Stunning backdrop and a stunning lady, fab day all round. A place and day I will always take myself to in times of strife and reflection.
Stunning backdrop and a stunning lady, fab day all round. A place and day I will always take myself to in times of strife and reflection.
Ok so living with poppy is an ongoing challenge, in the fact that you can not ever ever EVER really take your eyes off her. Is this possible, of course not. It’s physically impossible to spend all day watching and interacting with a two year old. They are a complete law to themselves.
I love my time with poppy and embrace it as every good dad should. I love the time I spend rolling a ball across the floor to her, and her joy at chasing that ball, and her considered concentration at trying to roll that ball back to me. I love her attempts to copy my hand movement that mirrors mine whilst trying to catch the ball. I am rewarded in her response to me as her guardian and teacher. I revel in the interaction of simple tasks, and it reminds me of the simple joys in life that we so easily forget as we grow older, wiser and more boring! I love hearing her spell out the word “Nike” on my T shirt in her garbled toddler talk, which are clearly the very beginnings of her understanding of the English language. I strive to second guess her understanding, looking for some kind of common ground that will help her understand better.
As an instructor in the prison service I always looked for ways to better help get the message I was employed to convey, to sink into the minds of some often very blank looking faces. The message was of course very serious but if the recipient isn’t on your wave length than your wasting your time. “You can lead a horse to water and all that”. Again the message here is serious but my audience in poppy has just barely less attention span of my officers in the service. So the pressure is greatly increased. This added to the fact that she can’t demonstrate what she has learnt also makes it tricky to move forward. Then of course, within seconds she is picking up the first thing to hand and throwing it across the room, or at you, or indeed just picking her nose. In fact the similarity to teaching in the service are blinding, actually.
So what I’m saying is that at some point I just have to leave her, and fold some washing or put the tea in the oven or wash some pots or wee. The list is endless, I got a house to run.
Of course we have minimised the danger in the room she is locked into, mainly out of trial and error and necessity. You know, replacing and finding the battery’s and cover on the remote control gets boring until you find a place to put it, that truly is safe. This often, being more and more increasingly higher and more ingenious, as over time she works out like an episode of mission impossible just how to stack various items of furniture up so that she can reach it. Or how many times you can take a biro off her, after she’s has drawn over the white walls, before you do a full interior search of the room to remove all such ink based contraband. ( I have never succeeded in finding all the biros ) The top of the microwave in the kitchen, which is considered level 5 secure at the moment, is full of them. Yet still, I often get handed one reluctantly when I enter back into the living room! How is this possible?
Today however whilst cooking her tea there followed a period of silence unnoticed at first which of course is the way. I think it’s your body’s way of just enjoying itself before reluctantly it allows that nagging grey cell that’s been banging on the door into your brain. All of a sudden you realise she has been quiet and that means trouble, with a capital “oh shit”. I enter the secure living room and the picture above is what I was confronted with. In a moment I am transported back to childhood horror films where a small child talks to a snowy TV set in a darkened room. Has she really placed all the various candles in the living room on a perfect line? Early OCD signs or possessed, you decide.
Ok I need to step up here and post every day, even if it’s just a little bit here and there, I need to get into the habit of writing. I’ll never get my book written if I can’t keep a little blog like this going. I can’t believe it’s been since sept since I last put blog to print. Xmas, a two year old and a part time job have ruled my life since September and foolishly I’ve not taken time out for myself. In fact, because of a whining, moaning, shouting, screaming little girl ( who I do love of course ) I’ve not been able to take any time out for myself. If I’m not with poppy I’m generally working, trying to get a very good business I work for, off the ground and into the big leagues. I rarely sleep past half five in the morning and that alone is enough to make any grown man cry. Any way I must not complain, it’s not good for my Karma. ( but still )
So I’ll try to add something every day even if it’s just a quick post. Hoping that I will get some space to put pen to paper and make sense of my service days enough to get some blogging material out of them.
I would like to do a post about the depression that sits with me nearly every day, and try and make sense of why me, and how I’m coping or not coping as the case may be without medication or “drugs”. I try and live every day with out looking towards the next, but trust me that’s hard when you feel that your life is on hold waiting for children to grow up. This of course conflicts with my desire to love every min, but damn it’s hard.
So here it goes, a blog every day. I can do it!
So, its been a few days now of no Tramadol at all and its killing me. I’m writing this as I wasn’t told of just how bad it was going to be coming of this tiny little pill. I was on a lot as well. I was taking up to 15 – 20 a day at my worst, far more than I should have been taking, but when your the size of a tank like me and in extreme pain you’ll do anything. I had built up a tolerance to the drug over time and it just wasn’t working so I had to just keep taking more and more. I took as many as I dare to without tripping a seizure. Must have been on them well over a year and a half. So they worked fine, I didn’t get high on them other than in the first week, I was never addicted to the side affects only the fact that they stopped the pain. Of course the longer you take them for the harder it is to stop.
Its taken me months and months of slowly reducing my dose in order to get where I am this week. Months of taking just one pill less and then clucking for a week till its out the system. Its been a few days of none now and I’m cracking up, I started to think perhaps something else was going on but a quick search of the net shows me I may have another two to three weeks of this till its over.
Restless legs syndrome is the worst thing about it. The spasm builds for ages before snapping a leg like an electric shock has been fired through it. You try and stop the spasm when you feel it building so already you start to move you leg consciously before the big uncontrollable movement kicks in. Body aches like mad, chills, sweats, arms feel like they are on fire, not just a feeling, actually feel like they are on fire. I’m reminded of the cold turkey scene in train-spotting, minus the baby! I’m trying to just ignore it and pretend its not happening. The longer it goes on of course the harder that is. All things considered I’d like to think that most people won’t even realise what’s going on with me as the more distracted I am the better it is.
So if your put on it for whatever then sure, use it if its better than the pain your in but please please remember to maybe stop for a few days every week in order to prevent the horrendous come down, <— not sure if this works, or no matter how much you feel you need don’t take more than prescribed. Just except that they are working and you would be worse off with out them. *twitch twitch spasm . . . . . arrrrggghhhhhhh!!
Never very keen on my own pic but I like this one. Poppy helps of course! Taken by my excellent photographer fiancée. Happy Times x
Handy man? removal man? Nope, I’m seriously loving being self employed and making my own money but its not what I want to do forever. Plus I’m not making any where near the money I wanted to. Don’t get me wrong money does not rule my world at all. I hate the stuff and what it is, but we need it, my kids need it, my fiancée needs it!! I need a little bit as well.
So plans are in motion, I got several things in my head and several possibility’s but its got to be enjoyable, fun and more importantly viable. I’m done publishing my ideas though. Me and Lisa had plans to get into sign language, we really went down the road as well, but in the end it was too much risk up front and we simply couldn’t afford to risk the money. So they are all staying private until we get them off the ground. Well some of them, some of them will remain private because much as I like sharing my life to you all, its good to keep some things back, and then some of them are just too naughty to publish anyway.
I want more than anything to work with Lisa, I love her with all my heart and feel at my best when I’m in her company. Lisa however has a Career, a very good career but one that’s far from ideal for us and I’m sure she would love to leave. But you can’t just walk away from a good career, especially when your the main earner. Then I got two excellent mates that I call my brothers that I would also love to work with, one has also got a career. One has got the C word!!!! Children, two of them. So his hands are tied like mine.
So what do you do?? Dunno, its tough, I suppose that if I was in possession of a nice lump sum of money my choices would get far far easier and I would make a go of something. If I won a lot of money then life would get seriously more easy. Don’t get me wrong I’m not under the illusion that money brings you happiness, far from it. I’m a trainee Buddhist, I know it wont. But I would be able to do so much good with that money you wouldn’t believe, for starters it would buy me time and freedom. Time and freedom from the responsibility’s of this western world I was born into that would enable me to help so many people. Sounds like Bull I know but I seriously can’t think of anything I’d rather do. I’ve always loved helping others and have always been good at it.
I enjoyed my brief experience of personal protection, but unless you have done a stint out of the civil sector or you already have a well know client on board your not really taken seriously. Even so I would love to get back into it one day.
Teaching, yes, teaching self defence now that’s got my interest plus I’ve got a public service background in it. Again it takes money and serious time, but that’s well and truly on the cards and I’ve got some ideas. However my back needs serious time and work to get it back to full strength to enable me to get back on the mats to a point where I could stand before students with confidence.
So my dilemma at the moment is to just keep plodding on until something breaks or changes and to keep chipping away at this and that till I find something I can really make work.
The one thing I don’t miss at all, not in the slightest is watching my life slowly drip drip drip drip away. Clocking on and clocking off working for an employer that couldn’t give a fuck about me and in fact spent every waking minute hell bent in trying to put me and those around me in as much danger as possible. Watching a Job I once really loved being de-skilled away to just tapping away on a keyboard doing a worthless task and turning keys in big heavy doors. In fact most of my last years wages of £28 odd grand went on me standing around and watching prisoners collect free medicine three times a day from a hatch and watching the same said prisoners wander round and round and round an excersie yard. Knowing full well that if anything happened, like they past drugs or summit we were helpless to do anything about it because the governors wanted everything hush hush. Drugs being found meant there were gangs, gangs brought organised problems, organised problems meant government targets were not being met, un-met targets meant governors lost there jobs or were moved to the Russian front. Oh no wait, that was the Nazis . . . . . but similar. They were shouted at and harassed and lost sucky la la brownie points. Most of the governors I worked for in the end were all so petrified of loosing these brown nose points that they would literally sell their soul in front of your very eyes in order to get things covered over. In fact that right wasn’t just left to Governors, people I called friends sold me out for no other reason than to make sure they scored a B point here and there. In fact one of them was someone I called a brother.
I’ve only got 11 people I felt close enough to in my life so far to say that they were real brothers in my life. We were In the big fight all working together against the same enemy etc etc, these are men I dedicated my life too. If I call you my brother then I’m there for you 24 hours a day 7 days a week. You and your family, I do anything for you, whatever you asked, whenever you asked it. You are an honoury family member but someone I would fight along side with and if you said jump I would have already jumped before asking how high. I still remain that person to my brothers where ever you are but now the list is 7. One of those men who I respected and looked up to decided to become a Frenemie! He decided even tho I felt I did everything in my power to protect him, In fact my first thought always went to making sure he was covered whilst dealing with my injury, he decided to turn in secret and stab me in my back on an email he never thought I would see. But luckily for me I did see it! Cut me to my core, but I’m glad I saw that email, else I probably wouldn’t know to this day what he was doing.
Things like that hurt like hell, I’m not pretending it doesn’t. I got thick skin, very thick. Most shit just rolls away, but when you’ve put your neck out there in someone’s hands that you trust with your life and they completely go out of their way to unnecessarily make a point of furthering their own career with bosses that couldn’t give a whatnot about you. That’s when life gives you a little nudge to say, “oi oi fella, your not as clever as you thought are you”.
So mark it up on the board, another life experience and lets move on . . . . . . but where next?? Where next indeed??