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Heading Into 2015

24/12/2014

1 Comment

 
This weekend marked my first full day off since I started my Masters of Research at the end of the summer. As I collapsed off the treadmill, I visited a lifelong friend and gave myself some time to breath for some quiet contemplation.

What am I doing? Why am I doing it? What’s really important?

This will not be a poetic or creative outlet, more of an incoherent ramble getting things off my hairy chest, posing questions to anybody out there in the ether.

I visited his house baring gifts, relaxed into his couch, mugs of herbal tea all round and gained a possibly caffeinated fresh wind of energy as we (his mother included) put the world to rights covering everything from Adolf Hitler through to Prostitution.

His house has always been a safe sanctuary for me, where I can unwind and talk about the big questions and the silly trivial things that make us giggle like school girls (when I am not being trampled by his pack of dogs). The faint sound of wind chimes can be heard from the garden before serenity is broken as the menagerie erupts signalling another visitor has pressed the festive doorbell. Time for another brew around the open fire . . . ah sweet bliss.

Within these four walls I can be myself, not judged and not judging. It is heaven with a hot tub and I am a very happy guest whatever the season. Alas today we are not stripping down to our underpants and taking a warm dip with a cool beer. It is a tea pot day and I am pleasantly content.

I share my joys and my worries and they share theirs. It is a mutualistic exchange, text book relationships at their best.

I am told my friend has had several skype interviews since I last sank into the couch and gave some advice on presenting his CV. He is the second companion I have helped this month with resume troubles, a throwback to another life in recruitment.

I love helping those closest to me. I love helping anybody, so long as I feel like I have time. But time is something I have felt short of the last few months.

It is great he is getting good feedback, edging his way to another position spreading smiles to families as an entertainer. Always the thespian he gets paid for doing what he loves, clowning and dancing around. It will be sad to see him sail off on the cruise ships, but it is great to know he is following his dreams.

We have two good friends who have headed down under. We obviously miss them too, but it is satisfying to know the people I have grown up with are free to do whatever they want, wherever they chose. Our paths will cross again and when they do we will have epic stories to share.

But what about me? Where is my life heading?

I adore spending time with people, but sometimes I just need time alone. My personality splits once more.

I head back to my solitary room and wonder “what the hell do I do now?” I have decided works off the agenda for twenty four hours, how will I fill the void?

I wrap myself in my duvet and watch Brian Cox documentaries on the Universe. This is when I am happiest, contemplating life, existence and what it all means? Not in a depressive emo manner, but in a fascinated child looking up at the stars kind of way.

I glance longingly at a stack of philosophy books and sigh. I lack the hours to scrutinize them at the moment, I’m just too busy. Plus I have decided there will be no reading today.

But I am the one who consciously decided to fill my timetable with the challenge of pushing at the forefront of science. Professor Cox grabs my attention again and a smile erupts over my face – I have realised I am using my free time to fill my head with more science. I bask in my stupidity and revel in the fact I have made the correct decisions up stream.

I was always a scientist at heart, asking questions, desperate for answers.

I am a curious person always wanting to know why and how? Going back into education and research was inevitable. But I never expected it to be so tough. I know I struggled at University the first time and leading up to my return I was constantly told that “it is difficult going back after a break”. Piling on my shaky mental health over the last couple of years, it was always going to be a personal challenge, but I think I drastically underestimated it.

I have never felt like the sharpest tool in the box. I was certainly a tool though; I earned the nickname Spoon from a very young age. I never congratulate myself when I do well, but I am first to notice when I mess up. When people compliment me on my “intelligence”, I blush and deny it - If only they knew the thoughts in my head.

The advice from my academic supervisor ring in my ears “there would be no point in coming back if it wasn’t a challenge”. I totally agree, he is a very wise man. He must also have the patience of a saint to guide me through the research process. I respect him a lot more than I have ever told him, that goes for all my lecturers past and present. Anybody with intellect that is pushing the limits of our collective knowledge and bettering the world gets my admiration. These are the real heroes in society, not the stars that are glorified on our TV screens – cut to a commercial, buy more crap.

Not rewarding myself for doing well feels like the least of my worries at the moment. Just getting by is an uphill struggle. Some of my grades have been shocking. I’m not used to failing (except for my driving test, but I hate driving and really having to concentrate on not killing people). A pass seems like an epic achievement, who have I become?

I got a clean sheet of A’s and A*’s in my GCSEs and a first class degree with honours at undergraduate level. Academically I am used to threating over my studies, but it all turning out more than OK when I receive the grades. Not this time. I kind of wish I had learned to fail gracefully earlier on in life, that way it would not be affecting me so much now.

I feel like I am putting in the effort and the hours, but my wheels are spinning and I am getting nowhere fast.

Maybe it is because of the years spent out of University, the decline of my mental health, the getting up at 5.30am to travel from Wales to Liverpool or a combination of all the above.

My eagerness, persistence and unwillingness to quit feel like my strongest assets at the moment so I plan to continue plodding forward.

I have been appointed a mentor by the university support services. When the idea was proposed it felt like a giant step back from what I had initially envisaged for my University experience. It feels like a role reversal as I have spent the second half of the year volunteering as a mentor for Flintshire Mind. The mentor has now become the mentee.

To be fair I have grabbed any support offered with both hands. As an undergrad I worked myself into the ground, and ended up taking a year break half way through to recover. I never accepted any offers of extended deadlines as I saw that as unfair. This time I have collected a mitigating circumstances form and am ready to submit it with my medical evidence. I guess I have learned to be completely open, honest and transparent when it comes to my mental health. Time will tell how that goes.

Semester one was always going to be the heavy one, the new year ushers in less modules but more focus on my independent research project. I’m so tired I am going to have to take a few days over Christmas to recuperate – the task is not feeling guilty about it.

With the decision made to rest my mind wonders to the future. I planned on perusing PhD after the Masters of Research, although I am not in the right state to make such a big decision and commitment. Applications need to come from a positive, enthusiastic place, at the moment I am treading water.

Where does that leave the blog? I have started to question the impression it will give to people I am forging relationships with moving forward, professionally and personally.

I am back in the head space of wondering how anybody studying seriously has time for a relationship. I never was one to be able to maintain a healthy work life balance, but even if I found the time for a girlfriend, would the blog scare potential lovers off?

With a quick bit of facebook stalking or google search, my former life can be retrieved in seconds. I am all for being honest about your past, but will it be too much with it all chronicled in black and white?

Will women be afraid they may become just another filler blog entry? My time spent “playing games” made for interesting writing, but it is obviously not who I am anymore. That guy lived by strict rule of never showing weakness, not until the victim was ensnared at least.

The OCD World blog, and by extension my life, is an open wound. I matter-of-factly discuss my kryptonite, counter to all advice in the pickup community. Like a Catholic confessional, it is a release to unburden myself, so I can move forward spreading smiles and love.

What do you think guys and girls? Does having such an honest approach to a blog have detrimental effect on careers, relationships and life in general?

1 Comment

Happy Anniversary and Merry Christmas

13/12/2014

2 Comments

 

LinkedIn
recently notified me that it has been two years since my on again off again relationship with OCD World UK began. Just like the condition itself, it rears it's head speradically throughout the years and I have accepted that it will never truly leave me until the day I die (which will be a long long ways a way when I have a heart attack in a strip club or get crushed by a falling piano).

This time of year is great for taking stock and reflecting on how far we have all come and grown. When I started the site it looked very different but I had dreams of it being the "best" OCD / mental health blog on the planet. As you probabily know I am a massive narcissist and self promoter. I spent too many years playing myself down so now I spend at least an hour a month googling my own name to make sure I am at the top of the page :/ My trumpet was made to be blown by my own lips (yes I'm still that flexible).

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Now I just aim to be the best I can be. I know it sounds l cheesy . . . heck even as I type it there is a little voice in my head that is saying "thats loser talk". Images of primary school sports day flash to the forefront of my mind, where everybody got a sweet no matter how fast or slow they carried the egg and spoon (ironically both are now my nicknames). I remember during my rebelious early twenties, as I made my first shakey steps into the corporate world, being angry at my headmaster for encouraging non competitveness and everybody gets a prize. Now I smile with my mug of tea and think "what a great guy". He was a legend and his life lessons still resonate with me to this day.

I'm getting off topic (but
Billy Connolly made a career from it so I shall continue). I guess what I am saying is OCD World UK has been a great creative outlet for me. What ever emotion I am feeling I can hammer away at the key board, upload my photos and share my interests and meandering life story. It allows me to get everything out of my head. My personal philosophy is everybody should be transparent. It saves time and cuts the bullshit. When it is all down in black and white (my favourite colours along with red . . . obviously) it can be misinterpreted, but fuck it. Not everybody is suppost to like you. That's not the point.

Just because I thought it, said it, wrote it five years ago, doesn't make it true today. People cange (that's why I have no tatoos, well that and my fear of needles). The people who choose to spend their precious time with me can't think I am a bad person really?

I remember venutring into internet dating when I was layed up on the couch after being run over by a double decker bus (yeah that happened! - I am still self concious people thing I am trying to walk like a hard nut, but alas I really am that stupid). I recieved constant feedback from validation seeking attention whores that "i'm not that opinionated and ballsy in real life". I told them if they had the sack to actually meet me in real life they would realise they where wrong . . . again. Plus "I can't walk to a bar right now, whats your excuse, with your strategically taken selfies amplifying your cleavage complaining you want a genuine man". NEXT.

Needless to say I was back in the bars with my
crutches getting face slapped in no time at all (It's only happened once, and I find the rewards far out weigh the risks).

Oh to the girl I was seeing at the time I guess this is a confession that I was internet "cheating on you", but I was bored, and you where a million miles away. Plus we later learned  on a plane ride from Tenerife that you didn't realise kissing was being unfaithful, so I guess it all evens out in a perverse way.

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Maybe this year will bring a woman I can be truley faithful with, and we can make a little Ted and Poppy. Then we can dress them up like us and encourage them to do all the things we with we had done with our lives. My mum will shower them with gifts and love and the circle of life will be complete. Just a thought.

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Enjoy the Christmas song from MC Lars and the photos of Chester in the winter time (backdated). I still maintain it is the greatest City on earth. If you are ever in town I will gladdly show you around my stomping ground.

Have a great Christmas, don't spend to much money - the people that love you don't care really. Fuck "talk talk", thanks to your crappy service we can't talk to my brother during this festive season.

Remember all work and no play made jack have a nervous breakdown.
2 Comments

Interested in Men and Women?!?!?

27/11/2014

0 Comments

 
My first longterm girlfriend went spare that I put interested in men and women on Facebook way back when in 07' (do the maths, I never went "steady" till my early 20's!!!!)

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I was just being friendly and misunderstood the options on the social media info page. Why would i discriminate friends based on their gender? The whole situation raised some important issues in my choice of a life partner though.

Don't get me wrong I loved her to pieces - too much if anything. When I'm obsessed over my partner I could squeeze her to death. Falling in love with somebody with OCD is like . . . well it's not like anything you have experienced. Don't knock it till' you've tried it.

The cracks where there, in the relationship and in our heads. Why arn't I allowed to buy a pink phone now that I have a relationship status? Why can't I wear nail varnish around your dad? Who am I suppost to be impressing today?

SCREW THAT, I am who I am, like me or leave me.

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My dress (mis)sense has been the topic of many a conversation with "in-laws". From my bestest glitteriest relationship, it was constant banter over my shiney shoes, yet knowbody flinched over smudged eye liner.

That is the goal people, being yourself while simultaneously being accepted. I will respect you when I am in your house, but I'm coming as me. I will change when and if I want to, but tippy-toeing around ain't my style.

The nail varnish has been retired for a while now (only making appearances at dress up occassions) but eyeliner and eyeshadow are a regular feature of my morning rituals.

DoI have to explain why? No, but feel free to ask.

*this post was wrote with a smile on my face, no anger intended*

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Drawing Lines

22/11/2014

0 Comments

 
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This image helped me get through a tough seven days.

The last week felt like a total write off. In retrospect, now that the storm has passed, I feel like I have learned alot. As far as my health goes it was the lowest point since the start of my post grad career.

All optermism faded and my inner self critical cynic grew.

Stress and anxiety bubbled up towards the tail end of last week and as my sleep time reduced, days blured and the walls came crumbling down. My immunesystem called it a day and anibiotics where prescribed.

The number of pills I tuck per day jumped from three to eleven

Rather than listen to my body (and parents!!!) and take time to rest, I kept ploughing forward, trying to solve everything yet achieve nothing.

Instead of just letting go and moving on from a programming assignment, I threw more and more time at it, leaching into hours for other important assignments and tasks.

Full blown panic attacks set in, my OCD symptoms increased and more sleep was lost. The cycle would start again.

My mind wasn't thinking straight, problem solving abilities went down the drain . . . my solution . . . up the work hours (big mistake).

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Crossed Lines
I have calmed now and am clawing my way back. This is in massive thanks to the understanding and support from my family, friends and the University staff who had the patience to deal with me in such a disasterous state.

I have made a plan for the up-and-coming week and intend to stick to it, moving on when required.

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Vertical lines from Rome
This post is more for me to vent and get it all out of my head, than for anybody reading it, although if you can learn from my mistake that's a bonus. If you are struggling ask for help, most people don't want to watch you drown.

One thing's for sure, I am drawing a line under this week, a new chapter is underway.
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