Like a monkey on my back the badness returned yesterday (being Thursday, and still technically today in my head) and I didn't make it into work. Panic attack, depression, call it what you will but there it was. The week started well and I don't know what specific thing if anything caused it, but by Wednesday afternoon I was feeling a bit agitated as a sense of apathy or lethargy descended on me. By the end of the working day I had this urge to go to the pub, which is never a good sign at the moment, but went home, buying a can of beer on the way as a compromise. Drank half of it and fell asleep (had a bit of trouble getting to sleep the last few days and caught up with me). On waking an hour later I felt really shite and spent the rest of the evening channel hopping on the telly. Finally went to bed about 1.00am and got to sleep at three. Woke up late for work and, boom, lost it. I eventually got up at 7.00pm, so I'll be up all night. If I try and go to bed now the same thing will happen again.
I'm assuming that being in a job which I know I'm leaving, and therefore have no real desire to be in, and which I have no real responsibilities at other than day to day stuff, isn't helping, neither is still being in a kinda limbo before going on the farm. Plus having all my stuff unpacked in piles in Kate's living room is a bit weird, since I moved it all out of here 7 months ago when we split up. (Kate's away at a conference all week so I can make a mess of her flat in the meanwhile.) It's probably just a hangover from the last year of shite, and it's best to think of it this way, otherwise I'll just get all depressed again, but even so, it's not nice. And very hard to justify.
Still only 3 weeks to go. The last week has gone quickly so there's no reason not to think the others won't.
It's been a pretty strange year in Pete's Head. I was going to contribute to Meg's mayfly project but when I reduced my year down to 20 words it was pretty glum. Got depressed, went on pills, split up with girlfriend, got signed off work for panic attacks, future looks uncertain. Yes, there were good things this year but it's all in the details.
Permalink | Posted in Head on Wednesday, January 1 2003 | Comments (1) ?subject=[Weblog] 010103: In which Pete once again lists things he's going to do with the full knowledge that all the other times he's written stuff like this it's gone terribly wrong and he's wound up depressed again, but what the hell." title="email me about this specific post">Email
Permalink | Posted in A Life of Pete, Head on Thursday, December 5 2002 | Comments (0) ?subject=[Weblog] 051202: Big news" title="email me about this specific post">Email
Semi-seriously, I wonder if I should just resign myself to going to bed at 6.00pm-ish every night to avoid this morning panic attack problem. It'd sort out the drinking in one fell swoop and I'd get a lot of computer work done...
Permalink | Posted in Head on Tuesday, December 3 2002 | Comments (1) ?subject=[Weblog] 031202: You could at least look the part..." title="email me about this specific post">Email
Permalink | Posted in Head on Sunday, November 24 2002 | Comments (0) ?subject=[Weblog] 241102: No disciplinary for me." title="email me about this specific post">Email
Tomorrow I have an investigative interview with the assistant manager for persistent lateness, accompanied by a colleague (I asked Mo and he said he'd be there). This is to get the facts straight before seeing if a disciplinary is necessary.
I've got an appointment at the hospital for Cognitive Behavioural Therapy on December 4th - not the actual therapy but to talk about problems and what's the best way to solve them.
This morning I woke up before my alarm clock with a slight hangover but feeling fine. I'm posting this then I'm going to have some breakfast and go to work.
This might seem mundane but this is something of a breakthrough. Over the last week or so, other than some glitches over the weekend (I slept right through Saturday for example) I've been getting up early and feeling good. Today I did it after a boozy night out. As people who've been following this weblog will know, this is not normal. I appear, touch wood, to have settled into a normal pattern.
And it feels kinda nice!
Last Friday (not the one just gone, the one before) I had another "bad day" when I couldn't get out of bed for work. This was probably the worst day for it to happen because not only were we short staffed but there was a major signing on and I had a book for a very arsey customer in my bag. I did make it to work by 3.30pm (supposed to start at 8.00am) for the signing but wasn't able to do much as I was still having a panic attack and spent most of the rest of the day in the office. My depression problem had definitely affected my job and something really had to be done about it. I made an appointment with the doctors for Monday morning and decided to ask them about private counselling as the NHS looked like taking 3-4 months. Since this seems to be happening every couple of weeks and I'm on the verge of disciplinary action at work it seemed like a good idea.
Permalink | Posted in Head on Monday, November 4 2002 | Comments (1) ?subject=[Weblog] 041102: CBT with the SLaM CMHT" title="email me about this specific post">Email
Why are you such a dense idiot?
Ah well...
Not a very good Tuesday was had by me. I spent the morning waking up, realising I was late for work, getting upset about this, falling asleep again, waking up, realising I was late for work, getting upset about this, etc, etc. Eventually, having held the mobile in my hand all day, I phoned in at 4.00pm and told my manager what had happened, though I'm not really sure what did happen, other than I was knackered (sleep patterns partly) which meant I slept in and then had a period of self-hatred or something. I dunno.
Positively, though, I am down to get Cognitive Behavioural Therapy through my doctor, which will work on changing this kind of behaviour, but there's a waiting list so I won't start until the new year. In the short term I'm hoping to get some private sessions with a psychiatrist to try and identify why I'm occasionally doing this, especially as it seems to happen after I've had a productive or enjoyable time. Right now I feel okay, definitely not like I usually feel after something like this has happened, which is progress of a sort.
In other news, today I shaved my head. With a razor. I've been using clippers for the last eight years but I never actually bic-ed it, as it were. It's an interesting experience. My scalp is now as smooth as a baby's bum - no stubble at all. I think I might keep this up - every weekend, shave my head. I'm also cultivating a tiny beard under my lower lip but purely because I quite liked tugging on it. The moment a girl tells me it looks stupid it'll come off.
Saw Helen tonight, which was great. She's a good a mate as any really. She's having a great time working in Amsterdam and said I'd like it there, which is probably true. So that's another option to consider - use Helen as a contact and emigrate to the continent.
So far the options are:
- Work on a cruise ship.
- Live and work on a farm, possibly an organic farm community thing.
- Go live in Amsterdam and get a job there (there are immigration issues unless I have a job but it's an idea).
- Get some long term therapy and learn to appreciate what I've got and keep in under control.
The last option is still there. As I've said before, my life is, on paper, pretty good and better than most. I just have a mental block that stops me living it. An inward journey might be as effective and interesting as an outward journey.
Whatever, something needs to change.
Mental update.
Progress, of a sort...
I didn't go out at all last week. On Thursday I so wanted to go for a drink and tried phoning through my mates but after four tries the batteries on my phone died so I went home, watched a film (can't remember what it was) and went to bed because I really didn't want to stay awake. Bad mood. Not sure if it was withdrawal from the booze or just a bad mood. Whatever, I was determined to go out Friday. Needed the company of friends and the light relief of dumb conversations.
After work on Friday work chums and I went to the usual place in the market where the drinks are half price, but it wasn't the most stimulating of evenings. Halfway through I tried phoning a number of friends but they were all in different counties or had plans I wasn't keen on (the goth club Slimelight anyone? Thought not.) Ended up going to Kate's flat where she had some mutual friends over. It was a nice enough evening but I felt I was moaning a little too much.
On the way home I walked over the Millennium Bridge which is now one of my favourite places in London, especially after midnight. Because it runs from the City to Tate Modern there's very little pedestrian traffic at that time of night and, being a footbridge, there's no vehicles rumbling past you, so it's perfect for standing over the river contemplating life and London. My favourite spot is right in the middle. It's not the middle of bridge but you can tell when you're there because there are two yellow lights in the middle of Blackfriars Bridge. Anyway, it's a good spot.
Slept through Saturday though I intended to do a couple of things, and was stirred from my lair by Heather phoning about Tim's birthday drinks which I was intended to go along to. She came over and we got there about 9.00pm-ish. Tim had been in the pub since four so was well gone and we wound up helping Nicky, his girlfriend and friend of mine through the biz, carry him home. Literally. He couldn't walk. At one stage he started kicking me so I threatened to have him on the floor. He said I couldn't do it so I just let go and he fell on his arse. After that he was rather more compliant. After putting Tim to bed we sat up until 5.00am chatting and drinking. It was the kind of night I just love. I wasn't too drunk but I was drunk enough and today I feel good for the first time in quite a while. And to top it all, because I slept on Tim's floor I actually got up at 11.00am today and haven't crashed yet!
Tonight I'm off for a meal with Helen who's over from Amsterdam for the weekend then we might go a check out the fireworks on the River, which Anna's just phoned me about.
Good tip for the week. Tim and his chums had discovered this radio station, Resonance 104.4 FM. It only broadcasts in the London area but they have a web stream. It's an Art radio station replicating an art gallery / happening on the air. During the day it's programme based and resembles Radio 3's Mixing It, only at a reasonable time of day and for hours on end, and then at night it's a mix of weird noises. Sometimes you get random words, sometimes the sound of a car revving for 20 minutes, sometimes just a strange collage of found sounds. It's most definitely MY mind of radio!
Nicky mentioned acupuncture which apparently has helped her a lot over the last year. While it's somewhat on the fringes or rationality, it might help unblock my energies, or whatever it is, which I think can't be a bad thing. Will investigate.
I'm not in the mood to post because I have a cold, which is really annoying. Think I'm run down rather than infected so nothing to worry about.
Things are okay though. It was my mum's birthday today - she's currently phoning me at 6.45 to make sure I get up and I answered the phone with a "happy birthday", which was quite a miracle. Normally I forget her birthday until a week or so later, partly because I'm crap at that kind of thing and partly because it's so close to mine. Added to this that my brain is on another planet when I wake up and it's getting messianic. Think I might have made her morning with that one.
Speaking of waking up, yesterday I fell asleep on getting home and flatmate Rob woke me up to check I was okay. My brain fumbled around and I suddenly panicked. "What time is it?" I yelped. "Seven" he replied. Thank God, I thought, I'm not late for work. Then I thought about it. "AM or PM?" Every time I wake up these days I panic, except for when I really need to.
Other things in brief: Had a meal with Kate the ex tonight which went okay though my cold didn't help. Have been getting bored at work - the prospect of actually leaving at some point soon hasn't helped and I now definitely feel I've reached the ceiling of my bookselling career, especially as other staff are rapidly catching me up on the experience scale, which is no bad thing as I'm bored with the jobs they're learning about. Got a wicker blind to replace the godawful curtains in this room and discovered it's 5cm too wide, so I'll have to snip it down bit by bit. Killed a plant. Not good that. Kate gave me a Yoshitomo Nara ashtray with the legend "Too Young To Die on it. It's 10 inches wide and kicks ass. More Yoshitomo Nara here!
Still got some emails outstanding. Will reply soon. Honest!
Thanks for all the emails. Unfortunately, in a effort to make it to work today on time (which I did!) I stayed up all night so I'm too tired to write decent replies. Will do though. Promise. That said, I've only been up since 6.00pm Sunday so it's not that bad. Just got to stay awake for another couple of hours then I can crash for the night. Dumb-assed action video methinks.
In order to stay awake last night without tiring myself out I watched two films for the first time. Charlie's Angels was ridiculous but enjoyable. Funny Face was stunning. God I love those technicolour Fred Astair musicals!
Interestingly, I watched The Big Sleep for the first time over the weekend and it made me sad because I SO wanted to be as sorted as Bogart and I can see every girl I've ever really fancied in Bacall. Great film, even though I can never quite follow a Phil Marlow movie completely.
Question: did anyone else think Humphry Bogart and Dirk Bogard were related for a while? Or was it just me?
warning: long 1000 word post
Yet another interesting week, leaving me wishing for less interesting weeks. Please.
Okay, things have come to a pass and something must be done. But first a little background on the last seven days.
While on my holiday in the Cotswalds I did a lot of thinking, and concluded that I needed a little structure in my life. And also that I needed to slow down on the drinking to give my anti-dees a chance of doing the job they're supposed to do. Realising that there's a distinct possibility I've become ever so slightly addicted to alcohol, I decided to be realistic. so I laid down some basic rules. When drinking on the night before work I am allowed a maximum of three pints of beer. I am allowed to get properly drunk once a week but only on a Friday or Saturday. I also have to go home first, eat some food, and then go out.
Monday, Brett calls and tells about a lig that night from 6.00-8.00pm. I say I might come along but I want to go shopping first. Plus I have to pick up my prescription. The plan is, after finishing work at 4.30 I'll get there when there's only an hour of free booze left and have a light evening. In the end I spend a good hour and a half on the busses and decide I might as well go straight there. Okay, beer only and count the bottles. I'm greeted by trays of Champaign and constant topups. And the booze doesn't run out until 10.00pm.
So I get drunk.
Tuesday, managed to go shopping and cook dinner. Also managed to make packed lunch for work. Result!
Wednesday. Forget to take packed lunch in to work. Am meeting friend for a talk so go to pub first. Consume about 6 pints that evening.
Thursday. There are three ligs this evening between the hours of 6.00 and 8.30. The first is at the Ritz for Dick Francis. I drink about 1.5 bottles of Champaign before we move on to the Iain Banks lig where I drink a bout three glasses of white wine. Then it transpires that the third lig, Ethan Hawks, actually starts at 8.30 so off we go to that. Failing to get in we go to the pub and have about three pints. Then we manage to make it into Ethan's do and stay there drinking bottles of beer until 1.00am.
I should point out that I had a wonderful time. Really enjoyed myself, had some good talks with good friends, had a lot of fun and felt good.
The next day I don't go into work. Yes, I'm hung over, but that's not the reason. Thing is I'm lying under the bedclothes crying and hating myself for being a total and utter fuckup. This has happened a few times over the last few weeks and I'd decided once and for all to put a stop to it. My manager has been as understanding as he can be but from now on my pay gets docked whenever I'm late, and if it doesn't improve over the this month I'm on disciplinary.
In short, I'm fucking up my job. And my life.
So, I have a chat with Vicky, who'd gotten drunk on Thursday and mislaid her signed books, which I'd found and taken home. She's off to India for 6 months to get away from her life here. I start thinking that's a damn good idea.
Then, cos I'm feeling shite, I phone my mum. Being a) and mother and b) a yoga teacher she's normally pretty good for this sort of thing. She says she sees me working on an organic farm type community or something. Of course, she would, but it's not a bad idea.
Way I see it, I can't go on like this. My circumstances, while eminently enjoyable, are not helping my state of mind. I'm trapped in a cycle and I can't break out of it.
On the other hand, I'm single, work in retail and live in a flat with a 6 month assured tenancy. Other than a load of books and a computer I don't have anything holding me here. I've gradually been offloading my comics and web commitments onto the community without them suffering. There is nothing really stopping me getting the hell out of this situation.
Except I'm too scared to follow Vicky's example and jump on a plane to the other side of the world.
Then, I don't know where it came from, but I suddenly thought of cruise ships. Simple idea really: you get a job on a ship which is sailing around the world for 4 months. You earn money but your bed and board are covered. You wind up in a strange country with a bit of cash and if you want you can stay there, or they pay your flight back, or you get another job on another ship. Did a bit of googling and came up with some interesting sites and a book. I've got ten years of retail experience with a smattering of management. If I can't get a job on a ship then I'm doing something wrong. Even if it only pays £500 a month it's the same as I'm taking home right now after rent and bills. And I get to travel and really get out of my current situation.
After discussing this with my flatmate, mother and brother-in-law (who's just emigrated over here from the States with my sister and can offer an outsiders opinion) I've decided it's a go-er.
So, I'm going to quit my bookselling job at some point and leave the country in February to work on a boat. I'll sell off the stuff I don't need to keep, lend the comics to someone long term, trade up the iMac for a small lap-top, and get on the road.
Still not sure if I'll quit work sooner rather than later, but I suspect a temp job will pay better. Need to do some research into that.
I don't think this is some pie in the sky idea. It hasn't made me feel much better for deciding it and I know it's going to be tough. I'm definitely NOT running away from my problems. I just need a complete change of scene, getting my out of this rut I've been in for the last few years and doing something radically different.
As far as the blog is concerned, Volume 2 is now the account of me making this change. Volume three will be the voyage.
Question: has anyone reading this ever worked on a cruise ship before. Do you know someone who has? I'd like to contact them.
Tonight I sorted out something that's been on my mind for rather a while and which should, hopefully, prove to be very good in the long term. And, no, I'm not going to talk about it. This is just to remind me when it happened.
