The First Month, January 2015

I moved into my flat on the 9th of January, the first night I spent on the floor in a makeshift bed. I loved it! It was so peaceful and quiet, so dark, I felt safe and secure. Not knowing what my next move would be, I fell asleep, that sleep was a good one, one of the best nights sleep I would have for the next few months or so. If I had known that I would have enjoyed it a lot more.

The next morning, my phone woke me up, it was a silly time in the morning, my dad. He wanted to know how I was, how I was keeping. This was a Saturday morning. I told him about what had happened, (I'm sure he knew, but I told him anyway) about sleeping on the floor, about having no furniture. 

My dad stepped up to the plate, he knew I had no money, no job, he offered, bless him, he offered to take me out furniture shopping. First stop was Tescos, for a kettle, (Important things first, right?) next Morrison's, for a toaster. Sat in Morrison's car park, he asked me what else I would like. I tentatively said "A bed, maybe a settee?" he just looked at me "Where are we going to get those from?" "I have no idea " I replied. "The British Heart Foundation? maybe", "Ok lets go have a look".

The heart foundation shop in Skeg is a big one, they have loads of things in, most of it crap, but one of the beds stood out, I saw it immediately, love at first sight with a bed, of all things. This bed was brilliant, a double divan, four draws, it split into two parts, so getting it through the flat door would be easy. The mattress was also a good one, one of those sleep easy ones, no headboard though, I guess you can't have everything. I still don't have a headboard!

I had to have that bed, it was by far the best and cheapest in the shop. We stood there looking at it for ages, "you sure?" said dad, "yep" I pretended to keep a straight face, it was difficult. He went in his pocket and gave me a wad of bank notes, I didn't bother counting them, just said thank you and headed toward the till. Paying for the bed I also arranged delivery, it would arrive on Monday, they don't do deliveries on a weekend.

Not one of the sofas in that shop got my attention, they were all old fuddy duddy ones, or too expensive, I didn't want to spend too much of my dads money, knowing that sooner or later I would pay him back, so keeping the spend low, was a good idea.

I wondered where to go next. I knew of a second hand furniture warehouse, on one of the industrial estates. We headed over, walking through the door into the show room, it stood out, right at the back of the room a two seater sofa in red. A three seater wont fit through my front door. 

I don't know what to call it, intuition perhaps? but if things feel right they generally are, that bed was right, my car, when I found her felt good (more of Christine in another chapter) my flat was the same, it felt good, it was the same with this sofa, it felt good, felt right. I knew it would be my next item of furniture.

Stringing things out a bit, we had a butchers at other stuff in the warehouse, nothing took my eye, except that sofa, a two seater in red, with swirly arms and comfy cushions. The covers all come off for washing, it just felt right. My dad didn't think much about it being red, but a plan was forming. My crappy wallpaper has some red in it, so a red sofa was just the thing. Paying for it, I arranged for delivery, yet again they don't deliver on a weekend, so it would be the next week, a Wednesday.

Jumping back in dads car, our next stop was back at Tescos, it was a food stop this time, I now had a kettle and a toaster, a bed and a sofa. The shopping list wasn't a big one, some milk, bread, beans and a jar of coffee. In the middle of Tescos my phone rang, it was Kathy. Talk about ruining a good day, I figured this phone call would, turns out it didn't.

Taking a deep breath I answered the phone, I made my mind up to be as polite as possible. "Hello?" "Hi Gaz, its me, (yea, no shit Sherlock, I know) look, I'm going through the house, sorting it out, its not fair that I keep everything, I'm sorting your stuff out, putting it into boxes for you, when I'm done packing it, you can come over and collect it. What else would you like?" She was being friendly! My mind went straight into overdrive, (everything you fucking bitch!) "I've nothing to cook with, no cooker or anything, how about the halogen oven, some plates, knifes and forks, a few mugs?" She started to make excuses about not giving me the halogen oven. The main one being how would she cook? Calm as a cucumber, straight out the fridge, I explained to her that she had a perfectly good cooker sitting in the kitchen attached to the gas mains, why didn't she use that for cooking? "Oh! yea!" came the reply. "I can cant I?"  There and then I wanted to do a great big Homer Simpson DOH! very loudly. I managed to smother it though, just.

So that was that, I now had some cooking tools, it made me sweat again, the thought of fetching them. I needn't have worried though. My dad dropped me off at home, I took the kettle and toaster upstairs, dropping them off in the kitchen, I decided to unpack them later, to savour the moment. I took a moment or two out, just sat on my kitchen stool, next to that lovely view and smoked a ciggy or three. 

I had to go and do it again, I had to go and face that malignancy she called a home. Over the whole of January, I would be backwards and forwards to that place, collecting my bits and pieces, collecting what was my past life. I had faced it before to fetch some bedding, I could do it again. Still the thought of it made me sweat, and smoke, damn. I got through a lot of cigarettes in that month. 

She wasn't there! Just her friend again, everything I needed was in the kitchen. She had packed the oven, some plates, knives and forks and a few mugs. As an after thought, I also liberated a can opener, good thinking or what! and rescued a coffee machine. Fresh brewed coffee! love the stuff. Yet again, I got out of that place pretty damn sharpish. The atmosphere was still oppressive, still that malignancy about it. It made my nose twith like a rabbit on steroids. (I will get round to my twitchy nose and what it meant, soon enough)

Where does time go? I have no idea but that day just flew past, by the time I got home it was dark again, I can't remember what else I did that day, they're must have been other things, what they were I don't know. Perhaps it was coffee at McDonald's, (Mcdees, would become a second home, but that's in the future) maybe I popped into my mothers, its just a blank. 

I do remember my first meal, in my new home. Beans on toast, Cold beans, I had no way of warming them up, with a mug of fresh brewed coffee. Sat in my kitchen, enjoying the most simplest of meals with a nice drink, the feeling of accomplishment was huge. For the first, but not the last time, I sobbed, not because I was sad or anything, for the first time in years I was happy.

To Be Continued.......

I'm skirting around various issues. I'm sat here right now with Top Gear on the TV, with all these words babbling out of me, typing as fast as I can,  knowing that I haven't even begun to get to the nitty gritty of my story yet, it scares me. It scares me to death. I have to keep going though. I didn't write anything yesterday, I had to have a break, just to think about things, think things through in my mind. Its painful, very painful.

A few people have asked me if doing this is making things better. I answer yes, but I'm not so sure, the one thing I am sure of is that I have to get it out of me. Its like a tumour, a dirty great malignant tumour. I want it out, it has to go.

It feels like someone else writing this blog, I hit the keys on my laptop, and words appear on the screen. I get to the end of a chapter and while I'm proof reading it, I'm thinking to myself, did I write that? Where is it coming from? as yet, I don't know the answer to that question.

Sterilisation

We never had a good sex life, sure before we got married it was reasonably ok but after our wedding day it died, a quick death, that was on the honeymoon. We spent two weeks in Kent, god it was boring! We made love a grand total of 3 times. Having never been on a honeymoon before I think that reading books most of the time is not how it should be. I should have known then that things would not turn out good, but like the idiot that I am, the thought never entered my head. More about our wedding day and party in another chapter.

Kathy already had a son, Damian, when we first met, he was 7 years old, when we split he, would be around 20 years old, give or take a year or two. I helped bring him up, I needn't have bothered. When we parted ways I became a leper to him, like some bad thorn in his side, I've seen and spoke to him once since that day. Damian's real dad died when he was 18 years old. Again that is going to be in another chapter, two funerals and the coincidences. I'm reasonably certain that Kathy poisoned him against me, I have no idea what she did, but I became just a bad smell to him.

We discussed having children on a few occasions, it was a simple easy conversation, she wasn't going to have any more babies end of discussion. Being completely honest with myself I have never really wanted children, I don't know why, perhaps its the way I was brought up or maybe its because I've never met the right woman, I don't have a problem with kids, they are the future, I do however have a problem with Fathers Day, its a horrible nasty day, one best left alone if I can avoid it, which is pretty much impossible. I have made the mistake of going on Facebook on fathers day, the messages to those lucky dads make me cry.

I can never ever get my head around why dads abandon their children, I just don't understand why they do it. Why would you not want to be in your child's life? Its completely crazy! Why would you not want to see them grow up? Why would you not want to steer your own child into the best possible life they could have? Why would you not want to hear a life you've created calling you DAD! I don't get it, not one little bit. Sure I know that parents split up, but if that's the case why abandon the kids too? They are not to blame, so why abandon them? Honestly some men, just get my goat!

Some years down the line now and Kathy brings up the subject of coming off the pill, she had been on it from before we got together, I don't really understand how these things work, but I believe being on the pill a long time can be bad for a woman. We discussed other options. Condoms? Nope she didn't like them, Coil? nope she didn't like the idea of that. Getting her tubes tied? That got her mad! Kathy was adamant that she was not having her tubes tied, but one way or another she was going to come off the pill.

That left one option, a Vasectomy. 

I thought about it for a long time, well if you call a few months a long time, while I was thinking about it, It was a big decision for me, she kept pushing for me to have it done, kept saying we would be together for the rest of our lives, saying that we were not going to have kids anyway so I might as well have it done, it would be best for both of us in the long run. Eventually she convinced me that it was the best option. It was like a broken record, day after day after day, non stop for weeks.

Now normally, when I had to go to the doctors she would not come with me, but this time however was different, she knew I would be lying to a doctor, I knew it too. I know now she came with me to make sure that I went through with it. I was utterly convinced this Vasectomy would be good for us both.

Going in to see the doctor, I told him what we wanted and why, Kathy didn't say a word. The doctor asked if I had had children. I lied, I sat on that chair in a doctors surgery and lied to him! I told him that Damien was mine, I told him the reasons why I wanted a Vasectomy. After I told him, he looked at Kathy, she just nodded, she didn't in that whole time say anything. The doctor, agreed to it, he said I would get a letter through the post, with an appointment and instructions about how to prepare myself.

How do you prepare for a Vasectomy? Its easy, you have to have a shave! now before this time I had never shaved my bits before, this was a first, I'm not going to go into gory detail but suffice to say I nearly saved the doc from doing his job, it was a blood bath! Got to admit though that after the shave I liked the feeling, to this day I still shave down below, and yes, sometimes its still a blood bath, clumsy great oaf with a razor that I am.

The allotted day and time arrived. I'm venturing into the unknown now, so I'm a little bit scared and a whole lot nervous, big huge butterflies in my belly, I'm going to let someone loose with a knife around my bits! what if he slips and they come off in his hand! Scarred for life!

Sat outside the doctors surgery with Kathy, we don't say a word to each other, I'm alone with my thoughts. The nurse comes out to fetch me, now this is not the best looking nurse in he whole world, dressed in a green gown, this nurse has a moustache! Got to admit I was expecting a female nurse, why I don't know. He calls me over and both me and Kathy step into the surgery room. I'm directed into another room, told to get undressed and put a gown on. 

My mind has stopped thinking, I'm resigned to my fate now, I get undressed and just before putting the gown on I say goodbye to my junk, you never know, we may not be attached much longer. I put the gown on and step back out of the room. For the first time I get to meet the surgeon.

I nearly shit myself! This doctor is huge! Hes darker than the ace of spades, eight foot tall and just as wide and hes got the worlds biggest grin on his face! hes going to enjoy this far more than I am, and we both know it. He mumbles some words at me, I don't know what he said, probably something about the procedure that's to follow, I'm too busy trying not to crap myself to listen properly.

He directs me over to one of those surgical bed things they use, you know the ones right? I lay on it and open my gown, I just look straight up at the ceiling. I cant remember if they use anaesthetic or not, either way it doesn't matter much. 

I'm laid on this bed staring at the ceiling, this huge doctor is one side, the moustached nurse the other, scared to death, trying not to crap myself and the doctor starts to paint my junk with some form of brown liquid. The stuff is warm and it feels really nice, and I do mean nice, this isn't supposed to be a sexual experience, but it could so very easily end up one! It drives me nuts! I end up with a mantra going in my head, don't get an erection, please don't get an erection, please dear god don't get an erection!

Thankfully I don't, I hate to think what would have happened if I had! to this day the thought of that makes me shudder. Whats coming next? The surgeon thankfully puts down that paint brush and picks up a scalpel, I see it in his hand this tiny, tiny, little knife, in a huge great paw, all thoughts of an erection leave me, I'm straight back to not crapping myself. He moves his hand down and does something, I don't know what but I don't feel a thing.

Now this surgeon and nurse must really have been enjoying themselves, the surgeon stops what hes doing and invites Kathy through to watch. She must have not heard the first time he asked, he asks her again. She comes into the room and stands next to the nurse. The surgeon looks at me and says "you don't mind, do you?" I reply no I don't mind, but I'm really thinking, great lets invite more people, lets make it a proper party at my expense!

 The surgeon, goes back to doing his thing, I have no idea how long the procedure took, after seeing parts of my anatomy being removed, (a tube about three inches long) I lost interest. I moved my head to the left and could see out a window, that was it, my mind was off out the window, to play in the sunshine, to listen to the birds singing.

Back to reality, I hear "All done, you can get dressed again now". I didn't need telling twice, I was off that bed in a shot, getting dressed real quick, I wanted to get out of that surgery. The surgeon had other ideas, he started babbling about what had to happen next, something about clearing the pipes out and taking two sperm samples into the surgery to make sure the operation had worked. 

That was it, job done, tubes tied, no children for me. Kathy could come off the pill, which she did, right up until we split up.

We split up a few years later, after we did so, Kathy got straight back on the pill, that pissed me off, instead of having a hysterectomy she convinced me that I had to get the snip, they're was no two ways about it, I was having the snip end of. To round things off early last year she fell pregnant. When I learnt that, I couldn't help it, it grew from a small ball in my belly to this huge monster that had to be released. I laughed! I laughed until I cried, I laughed so hard it hurt, if laughter could kill I would have died ten times over.

As things would have it, she lost her baby, I felt for her on that one, I genuinely felt sorrow for her and that lost baby.......

The Nightmare

Some of you may think this is not relevant to my story,  but to me it is. I have had a reccurring nightmare since I first met Kathy back in  the late 90s. My mind has played it over hundreds of times, its always the same with always the same ending. It happened a few times a year when I was married to her, after I got into my flat, I would play it through every few nights, as I got more comfortable with myself it occurred less and less. Last night it happened again. I have no idea what it might mean.

It starts in a truck, I know its World War 2 and I know we are somewhere in Europe. We are dressed in  some form of uniform, its always Green, not a dark green but a light coloured more browny green. I'm in the cab of the truck sat behind the front two seats. In front of me in the drivers seat (right side) is a fairly good looking man. He's wearing the same uniform as me, his hair is dark with fair skin. I have never seen his face.

On the passenger side sits a woman, she is absolutely stunning, blond wavy hair, blue eyes, full red lips. She is also wearing the same uniform. Her hands, my god they are beautiful, my mind fixates on those hands, they are nearly creamy white, with long painted red fingernails.

Suddenly, I'm looking out the front windscreen, I can see both the man and woman on the left and right of me, we are travelling down a dirt road, with what look like pine trees on both sides, the sun is shining, it looks like a beautiful sunny day. No sound, I can hear nothing, no engine noises, no conversation, nothing. No matter how much I strain to hear something. 

We are travelling down this dirt road for what seems an absolute age, it must be summer, there is no sign of mud or puddles on the road, no birds either, no other people, just the three of us. The trees are a beautiful shade of Green, the sky is a shade of Blue unlike any I've seen, its a very surreal experience.

Eventually we get to the end of the road, in front of us is a fork one to the left one to the right, in between the two roads is an old hut with a sign post outside. The hut is Grey, it looks old, it has a sloping roof with a small metal chimney poking out the top, the door into it is closed. The sign looks like its made of wood, it has two arms, one pointing left one pointing right, both arms are painted white and have writing on them. I can see the words but not make out what they say.

The man stops the truck, gets out and walks over to the sign post, he looks up at both arms, looks both to the left and the right then walks casually to the hut. He opens the door and steps through, closing it after him. For what seems an age the man is inside the hut, the woman, is talking, I can see her lips moving, what she is saying, I have no idea, still no sound.

After what seems an eternity the man steps out of the hut, I can see him clearly now, hes wearing the same uniform as we are, a light browny green colour, it a very plain uniform, no sign of any markings at all, no matter how hard I try to see, his face remains obscured, just a blob of fair skin with dark hair. He has a cigarette between his fingers, for some reason that stands out, I can see its an old filterless roll up, the smoke drifts straight up, no wind.

Casually walking back to the truck, the man gets behind the wheel and just sits smoking, staring straight out the windscreen. For the first time I can hear sound, its the woman, she speaks in a language I don't know, but I can understand it. "Have we finished with him?" she ask's nodding her head towards me. The man turns his head towards her and just nods.

Things start to slow down now, a spike of fear shoots through me, I can see the woman start to turn towards me, she moves her left arm under her jacket. I notice very casually that there is no markings on her jacket. I look up, straight into her eyes, they are the most bluest eyes I have ever seen, almost the same blue as the sky. Steamy seductive eyes, I'm mesmerised by them. No matter how much I try to move I'm frozen to the spot.

Her left arm starts moving again, it comes out the jacket. My eyes move down to her hand as she brings it up towards me, I fixate on those nails, they are very well trimmed the red nail polish has no blemishes no chips or scratches, they are just perfect. She is holding a gun! I know whats coming, no matter how hard I try, I still cannot move. 

She brings the gun up level with my eyes, fear is completely and utterly holding me now, I know whats coming I'm completely powerless to stop it. My eyes move from those gorgeous nails to the gun, I see the aiming sight on top of the barrel, the colour of it, dark grey, almost black, my eyes move down to the barrel.

BANG!

I wake up, I have just been shot in the head.  I'm sweating like a marathon runner, scared shitless. For a few minutes I'm disorientated, where am I? Ahhhhhh I'm home in bed, safe in my beautifully luxurious bed.

Something triggers this dream, I am not sure what it is, part of me wants to believe its a perfectly natural thing, that everyone has a recurring dream, I know they don't. What set it off last night? Perhaps its just thinking about what I'm going to write about in this blog, perhaps its something more sinister that goes back further than Kathy, I don't know. I do know I want it gone, gone forever.



this song reminds me of the nightmare 

Flat Hunting Part 3

Parking the car, in the car park, I sit for a few minutes just contemplating what had been happening, things had moved very quickly. From becoming homeless at the back end of last year (2014) to being the proud tenant of a top class flat, it was a rush, no two ways about it, things felt good. It was only the 9th of January 2015.

Getting my sleeping gear out of the car, I toddle off up the stairs to my place! walking through the door straight into the bedroom I throw the bedding onto the floor and take a good look around. The bedroom is cool, plenty of space for a double bed (after months in a single bed, a double seems pure luxury!). Looking out the window, a reasonably good view of Skeg is before me, and a fire escape. (being the brave type, that fire escape still scares me!).

Moving out of the bedroom, turn right down a step, and the loo is directly in front, not too impressed for no other reason than its just a loo. Turning back round, past the bedroom, to the left is the bathroom, massive huge bath on the left with an attached shower type thing, the taps look and are confusing. Surprise, surprise, there is also your standard bathroom sink, not much you might think but to me this is pure heaven. Already I'm planning where to put a bathroom mirror (as things would have it, I have got a mirror, but yet to put it up on the wall some two years later.)

Moving back out the bathroom, turning left then immediately left again is the living room, its huge! Two massive windows, one with a view over some houses the other a wicked view out to sea. The only downside to this room is the wallpaper on one wall, horrible red and white flowers with gold stems, very girly, but I had an incling what to do with that wall (more about that another time).

Moving out the living room, turn left again and straight in front is the kitchen, it is fairly new and modern, compact by kitchen standards but it will serve me well over the next few months. Again the one window has a wicked view over the sea. That window would, unbenownst to me become the centre of my world in a few short weeks. 

Beautiful lady luck was still shining over me, some other tenants had just abandoned one of the other flats. The landlord was busy clearing out what they had left, just out of pure cheekiness, I asked if I could have a look at what they had not taken with them, see if I could use anything. No problem came the reply, help yourself. Not expecting much, a trip into this other flat turned up gold. A small caravan freezer, a Zanussi fridge (I still have it, beautiful fabulous fridge) and three bar stools. I had my very first items of furniture.

Two of the bar stools found a home in my living room, the third in my kitchen, next to the window. The fridge and freezer, understandably found a home in the kitchen. By this time it was fairly late at night, and I was getting a bit worn out, which room to sleep in. I knew it would be the floor for me, but so what? I could have slept at my mothers but what was the point in that?

Moving into the bedroom I thought about it for a few minutes, sure a good place to sleep but what about the living room? When the sun rose the next morning I could wake up and watch it rise, (no curtains) grabbing my bedding I lay it out in the middle of the living room. Apart from the two bar stools my makeshift bed is the only thing in the room. 

Getting undressed rather shyly, I have no idea if anyone can see through the curtainless windows, I switch the light out and climb into my make shift bed. Laying down and relaxing the peace and quiet envelopes me like a comfort blanket. All to soon I'm sound asleep.

That's the story of how I found my home, my castle, the only place in the world that I could truly be myself. Next to happen would be the hard part, I had no idea at the time it would be hard, no idea that I would climb half way through the kitchen window to die. No idea of the love and tears that would follow. 

Flat Hunting Part 2

This is agony tonight, I've broken a bone or something in my right hand, the painkillers might start to work soon, but I doubt it. I only type with my right hand. The show must go on, so to speak.....

I fell lucky, very lucky, no doubt about it. The flat is perfect, nice kitchen, big living room, comfy size bedroom, freshly painted throughout, and the view!! my god its stunning. I wander around for ten minutes or so, pretending to think about it. Whats to think about? 


Nope its no good, to do this much has taken half an hour, I'm not chickening out or anything I'm just in pain and my mind is not on the subject matter. To paraphrase somebody else "I'll be back"

 Money, that's what to think about, I have not got any, no job, nothing, zilch. Damn frustrating, but I have a top class mother, quick phone call and I'm half way to it. I need a deposit and a months rent up front. Angel, yet again steps in, bless her, she really is an angel. Angel will be in my tale quite a lot, I owe her big style as I do quite a few people. So the deposit and a months rent is sorted.

This if i remember rightly was a Wednesday, the tenancy agreement wouldn't be ready until Friday, it seems so far away! The amountt of times I drove to the place just to have a look was silly, half a dozen times on the Thursday, a few times on the Friday morning. Finally Friday afternoon, the agreement signed, guess where I go?

Nope wrong! I head to my mothers for a coffee! Sat in her conservatory drinking coffee just looking at a set of keys. It didn't occur to me I could have gone to my flat, the thought never entered my stupid befuddled mind. At the time I had no idea why. On reflection it was because I had nobody controlling my life, I had been so beaten down by Kathy that I was no longer capable of sane rational independent thinking. We will get back to this soon enough, figuring out the hows and whys of what happened drove me to the brink of suicide.

"Where are you sleeping tonight?" said my mother, instinctively, I replied here, (meaning her place), She just looked at me. Then it dawned on me, I had a place of my own, a roof over my head, a home! No furniture, no bedding, nothing, but I had a place! my pad!

I needed bedding, I had some, but it was at Kathy's, the thought of having to talk to her made me sweat. Grabbing my mobile, I found her number, before dialling a ciggy was in order. Taking a deep drag I pressed the dial button. 

It rang once, twice, three times "hello?" a shiver went down my spine, my hair stood on end. I recognised this instantly for what it was, fear! I wasn't pleasant to her, I should have been. "I've got a place to stay" I said "I need some bedding, can I get some?" "yes" came the reply, "thing is Kathy I don't want to be alone in that house with you, can you make sure theres someone else with you?" she replied "I can do that, give me half an hour" I put the phone down.

It was a horrible feeling to return to that house, it was a family home for so long, I tried to remember some of the good things that had happened in it. I failed miserably to think of any. To this day, I can only think of one or two, our wedding day party and getting my cat, Maiden. I knocked on the back door. Her friend answered it (Kathy's friend is not a big part of this, so I'm not going to give her a name). I needn't have stressed so much, Kathy wasn't in the house. A huge sigh of relief swept over me.

The atmosphere in that place was horrible, it felt heavy, very malignant, like the place was full of evil, a type of cancer (for want of a better word). I had to get out of it sharpish, I wanted no more to do with it. Very hard to describe in words really. Grabbing two quilts and a couple of pillows from my old room, I was out of that place quicker than a cork from a champagne bottle, it was like I'd been greased or something!

Literally running to my car, I threw the bedding in the back, jumped in, started her up and planted her one. I had to get away, the fear of god was in me, I couldn't get away quick enough. What the hell was wrong with me? fear I think, possibly of Kathy but more that horrible malignancy. The further away I got the easier it was. I calmed down again. As usual the need for a ciggy took over.

It was time, time to head to my new home, time to begin my new life.

To be continued.........

coming soon

Christine

Two Funerals

Depression and Suicide 

Wedding Day 

Flat Hunting Part 1

After spending Christmas and New Year at my mothers in Immingham (New Year was crap, nothing interesting happened). It did feel like everything was on hold though, nothing open over the holidays, bit of a pain in the arse time of year to be homeless. It was time to return to Skeggy, I did contemplate living somewhere else, but decided against this for a number of reasons, the main one being, I know Skeggy. Its home, always has been, probably always will be. I have moved away from this town a few times, not with much success. Anyway those adventures will be covered another time.

My mother, bless her, agreed to put me up while I got back on my feet again. Not the best of situations for either of us, but I will always be thankful to her for doing that, we have never had the closest of mother-son relationships, truth be known, we fight like cats and gerbils.

I tried not to get in her way too much, tried to keep busy during the day, then at night I would go out somewhere, anywhere, it didn't matter. Often to the pub or to some friends, I'm sure lots of people got sick to death of seeing me, but nobody complained, nobody gave lame excuses about being out or doing something else. It brought home to me what real friendship is all about.

During this time, I didn't have time to think, no time for anything really, just try to get things back on track as fast as possible, ignore what had past, time for that later. 

I figured finding somewhere to live would be difficult and take months. I hit the internet! those right move sites etc etc, useful but ultimately no damn good, just one viewing of some apartment or other in two! yep two months time. The estate agents were just as useless, no help finding somewhere from them at all. One or two of them gave me the run around, phone this guy in Boston. I phone the guy, nope you need somebody else. Tedious tiresome bullshit.

Desperation started to set in, a couple of friends, Fay and Dave (more about these two saviours another time) lived in a block of flats that happened to have a bedsit going free. 70 quid a week no deposit or tenancy agreement, not how I wanted to do things, but needs must. Turning up at Fay and Dave's place I get the keys to this bedsit and head upstairs for a look.

It was properly minging! I mean so disgusting that pigs would not shit in it, cockroaches would pack their bags and leave! There was muck every where, on the walls on the ceilings, the floor looked like it hadn't been swept since the 70s. The bed, yes the bed, nearly made me sick. You all know I'm sure about bodily fluids going on mattresses, well this thing looked like it had been used in a seedy hotel somewhere for the last 30 odd years. The rest of it is not worthy of a description, I'm sure by now you get the idea. 

I contemplated it! really seriously thought about it, to the point where I figured how best to clean it up. Looking back there is only one solution for that dump. Fire!

Fed up now, I figured it was time to visit Angel, for a coffee and a catch up on things. We got talking about flats in Skeg, I asked her if she knew of anywhere, she said she might. Angel made a phone call to her landlord. Lady luck must have been shining that day, Angel told them what I was looking for had they got anything suitable? "We might have in a couple of days" came the reply "send him over for an application form"

That drive was a quick one! I turned up at the landlords office five minutes later, got a wicked smile off the lady behind the desk, got handed an application form and headed back to Angel's.

Angel really is an angel, together we filled the form in. Angel wrote me a glowing reference, over another coffee we discussed what may or may not happen, I then returned the form, not expecting to hear anything again.

That afternoon my phone rang, for a change it was a good phone call, the landlord "We might have something that would suit you, are you available for a viewing, this afternoon?" Well I thought about it for like a nanosecond! oh yes I'm available, very very available!

They gave me the address and a time for this viewing, I have to confess I'd never heard of the place before, never visited before, never heard any grumbles about the place, nothing, not a thing. I was by this time dying of curiosity, all sorts of thoughts running through my head, the main one being, I hope its not like that bedsit, if its not I will take it no matter what! 

The allotted time didn't soon arrive it seemed to take weeks not hours, I was like a cat on a hot tin roof, couldn't keep still, couldn't stop smoking, one after the other, put one out, light another. My nose for a change was still, no twitching, not a thing, so things must have been good!

Finally I pulled up into the car park and looked at the place, fairly big, quite imposing but sterile, no real outside character to the place. The landlord turned up, pointed to the flat and said "were going up to the very top". Crikey was it a climb that first time, lots of stairs to negotiate, some simple normal stairs, the next the angle got a bit steeper, until finally we arrived at a white door. "This is it, quite a climb ain't it" said the landlord. After all those cigs I was out of breath and didn't reply, I couldn't!!

The landlord opened the door, stepped through then held the door open for me. Taking a deep nervous breath I followed him through the door. A feeling of utter relief washed over me, the flat was friendly! Immediately walking through the door I felt safe, I felt secure, I was finally home.

To be continued........

Christmas Day and Boxing Day 2014

Woke up drunk as a slightly inebriated Skunk on Christmas Day, not daring to go back to the pub or drive anywhere, I figured it best just to have a quiet few days.

That's exactly what happened, Xmas breakfast of smoked salmon, dinner, sausages with chips and watching crap TV in front of the fire.

That was my Xmas day and Boxing day

Pretty much a nothing of a nothingness. 

Except for one thing, nose twitching! yep just like a Rabbit, twitchy nose that wouldn't stop, very frustrating and annoying, but more of that later on.

Coming up soon.......

Flat hunting
First sexual encounter
Job hunting
Falling in and out of love
Drunkardness
Depression and suicide  

IMMINGHAM AND GETTING DRUNK

Christmas Eve 2014, what to do with the day? not a whole bloody lot!  Go out, get some food, some ciggies, buy a few items of clothing, light the fire and watch TV. Boring right? yep I thought so as well. 

That was ok for the day but what about the night? 

Things hadn't quite sunk in yet, in hindsight I was probably still in shock, there was no dark thoughts, no depression, no real thoughts or feelings about anything, just a kind of weird numbness feeling, hard to describe, but if the world had stopped spinning or some other major incident had occurred I wouldn't have noticed, or to be frank given a shit.

Bored shitless by now and I recon it was time to go out and let off a bit of steam, that's right, hit the booze!! The local pub was calling, "The County". Shower, Shit and Shave later, in my new togs I'm ready to go out for a night on the tiles. First time in what seemed like years!!

So the place is full of locals and in I toddle, yep you guessed it some funny "who the fuck are you?" looks, but ok I can handle that, no worries. First stop the bar for a pint. It goes down real well in roughly 20 seconds, the poor old barmaid didn't get time to give me my change from a tenner!!  Next pint is one to savour and that I did it was like nectar to a bee, glorious.

Looking around I spot a few interesting things, a motorbike hanging off the wall (I shit you not) a few photos and best of all some old friends that my mother got involved with. Chat and a catch up is the order of the day, interspersed with trips to the bar and nipping outside for a ciggy or three. There was a few lumpy jumpers about but my interest in those was zero.

The place by now was getting a bit lively, the pints were flowing (in me), happy Christmas music was playing and things felt real good, but not for long. 

As I'm sure most of you are aware booze is a depressant, happy to start with but eventually it will drag you down to its level and that's exactly what happened. By this time I'm starting to feel a bit down, a bit shit about myself, so I go outside for a ciggy. No worries on that score, but outside a drunk numpty thought it was good to be throwing his weight about. Giving people abuse and just generally being an ass,  for a while he didn't bother me, just other people. 

That didn't last long, minding my own business, just having a quiet smoke I hear "whats up with you, ya miserable fucker!!" I look up at him and yep, hes looking straight at me! Obviously I'm not going to tell him whats up with me, so he gets back "nothing", that wasn't good enough! He starts walking towards me and yep I feel threatened. Now this was a guy I've never met before in my life, no idea who he is, and I'm not exactly on top of the world.

Bear in mind opposite the pub theres the local nick, bound to be full of rozzers on Christmas eve right? 

The first thought going through my mind was "Christmas dinner in the nick!" the second was "why the fuck not!". So this numpty is approaching me and I'm feeling threatened, so what do I do? Yep that's what I thought too, so much to my surprise I lamp him one. Just the one, and he goes down like a sack of loose spuds, straight down, no messing. No seconds, nothing, he didn't even have the dignity to get up again.

What happened next was a surprise, look over at the nick, nothing! lazy buggers must be partying or some such, no Christmas dinner then. Things outside by now were suspiciously quiet, and I'm thinking to myself "this cant go well, I've just decked a local!! So casually as I could I finished the ciggy, stepped on it, walked very quietly back into the pub, back to the few acquaintances, they are all sat at a table, I plonk myself back down. Next I hear "well done mate, pain in the arse that bloke" and a pint magically appears!! All's good then thank fuck!

As these things go the beer kept flowing and flowing and flowing, from somewhere at the back of my mind a plan starts to form. (my plans are crap, worse when I'm drunkard) That motorbike on the wall kept getting my attention, it didn't leap out at me or anything, it just kept creeping into my consciousness like a good looking woman does. A few sneaky glances, a good gawp, then a few more sneaky glances, you get the idea.

Back to the plan, I'm going to steal the motorbike, drunk as a skunk in a crowded bar, in plain view of everyone, drunkard me is going to nick a motorbike! Well it seemed like a good idea. So here's the plan, move a few tables about, until one is directly below the bike, casually stand on the table and lift this bike off the wall.....

Things didn't quite work out that way, putting the plan into action, I started to move the table, what I didn't quite plan for is the fact other people were using the table. "Why are you moving the table?" "to steal that bike!" "No, your bloody not, fuck off home!" "what?why?" said drunkard me. "If you help me, nobody would notice" what do I hear back? "Well I could, but I'm the landlord, and that's my fucking bike, now fuck off home!" 

Point taken, drunkard me, goes quietly back to my temporary Christmas diggs, drunk as a skunk. One of the best most memorable nights ever!!

 

 

 

 

22nd December 2014 Part Two

   I turned left out of the kitchen door, left again through the back gate, out onto the drive, stopped at my car and rolled a cigarette. It was very much needed.  The police strolled up casually behind me, he started talking "We know shes drunk, we know she is high, we also know she is lying to us.  There is nothing we can do about it, but if you need us at any time for anything don't hesitate to get in touch" He said some other stuff, what it was I dont recall. I think at this point I gave the house keys to him, I'm not sure though.

 I didn't know what to say, what is there to say? 

Angel was still sat in her car, I walked over and jumped into the passenger seat, we talked, again what was said I dont recall, I do remember we chatted for what seemed like hours but can only have been 15 minutes at most. I smoked two roll ups, all the time I felt numb, like I was somebody else looking out at the whole experience, through somebody else, very weird sensation.

 Whatever we may have talked about, I had to do something, I had to get away from this horror, this end of a life experience. Saying goodbye to Angel, I walked over to my car, got in, noticed that the house keys had gone. When did they go? No idea. 

After starting the car I rolled another ciggy, lit it, took a deep breath, put the car into drive (automatic) , with no plan, no ideas, no money, just the clothes on my back and my car, I set off into the big wide world for what has turned out to be the best and worst times of my life.

First stop find a friendly face, my mother! Over coffee and more ciggys I blabbed out everything that had happened over the last few hours. We talked about it at length, she finally asked me what I wanted to do next. After some reflection and thinking I figured it was best to get out of Skeggy for a while. 

As luck would have it, she owned another property in another town not far away, that was standing empty doing nothing. (I wont mention where but its between Grimsby and Hull........Immingham!). So a plan was forming head up  to the other house, take some time out, get Christmas and the New Year out the way, then come back, find somewhere to live and rebuild a life.

Its not far to Immingham from Skeggy, maybe a 45 minute drive, give or take ten minutes, that drive just happened, I remember leaving my mothers, I remember arriving at Immingham, the drive inbetween? nothing! no recollection at all. 

So here we are Immingham just before Christmas, 2014. Litteraly falling through the front door, I popped the kettle on, made a strong cup of tea, and headed off to bed. Sleep didnt take long, for some reason I was exhausted!

Thats it, that was the day that changed my life forever, 22nd December 2014. 

Why am I doing this blog? I need to get everything out my system, it hurts, it hurts a lot, the physical scars have healed, but the mental wounds remain. I am struggling with life, or I persive myself to be struggling with life. I have a hard time trusting people, and making new friends. I value the few friends I have very highly, they have offered lots and lots of support, I owe them a debt of gratitude I can never ever repay, all I can do is be about if they ever need me.

Thank you xxx

To be continued.......

 

 

 

22nd December 2014 part one

It started just like any other day would for anybody, get up take a leak, pop the kettle on for a coffee, bumble about waking up, you know how it is, I'm sure. Kathy was out so the house was pretty quiet. Just the four cats roaming about or sleeping, just doing what cats do.

I'm writing about the events of today purely out of memory, some parts stick out clear as day other bits not so much.

Mid afternoon Kathy came home, we started to chat about money for Christmas and how we were going to divvy up the few quid we had. Kathy was in charge of the finances and had been right from the very start some 14 years ago. As you can imagine things soon turned into an argument, instead of sorting things out so we both had an equal amount of spends, Kathy insisted we didn't have any. I'm not stupid enough to not keep an eye on things, I knew we had money, not much but some.

Not that I knew it at the time but Kathy had been using a pshycological technique on me called gaslighting. If you don't know what this technique is its available to read on Wikipedia.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaslighting

Confusion reined supreme in my mind, I didnt know if I was right or she was right, I had no idea what was going on, no incling what so ever of the events that were soon to follow. We were at the top of the stairs shouting and screaming at each other. (Kathy later admitted that she was very close to pushing me down the stairs. If youve ever met her you will know she is quite capable of doing so.) I eventualy just blurted out that I wanted a divorce. Strange thing to say at the time because, with how my mind was working at the time I was HAPPY  with things.

By this time we had managed to find ourselves down stairs still arguing and things were not getting any better, I could see that she was getting more and more angry with me. I was being stubborn, I knew she was lying to me about the christmas finances, but the devil inside of me just could not stop. Things came to a head eventualy she flew at me with fists raised, I took a step backwards into the kitchen and slammed the door in her face, her fist came completely through the door. 

I think that shocked us both. It certainly did me. She opened the door, looked at me, I looked at her, we didnt say a word to each other, she snorted and walked out the back door slamming it after her, I retreated to my bedroom.

An hour or so later I got a phone call from her saying she could no longer live how we were living. She asked me to get out of the house, then told me to get out of the house. With my head firmly buried in the sand I refused, I still thought at this time we could fix things up. I couldnt see that once again we hated each other.

After years of mental abuse from Kathy, my mind was working in a very very strange way, I was thinking to myself that this is normal, it will blow over and things will be ok again. I know now that things were not normal, far from it. Hindsight is a wonderfull thing.

 She phoned me again, asking, no telling me to get out the house, again I refused. She asked me if I wanted the house. I said no, she then said she was going to the police to get me removed from the house, she put the phone down at this point. 

I have a guardian angel, for the purposes of this account I will call her Angel, because she is.

Arround five that night Kathy and Angel turned up, they parked up outside the house in Angels car and just sat there, next to turn up was a police car. I knew what was coming, I took a deep breath and just accepted it.

Moving to my bedroom i popped on a pair of shoes and a jacket grabbed my cigs and headed downstairs. I felt like a condemned man on death row, that walk downstairs was and remains the longest walk of my life, time meant nothing, everything seemed to be in slow motion. I was very calm, very collected. Shock perhaps? I have no idea.

After what seemed hours, but in reality was probably only a few seconds, I walked into the living room. There in the middle of the room was a police officer and Kathy stood near the kitchen door. The police said something, I didnt catch all of it but I do recall the words "danger to Kathy" and "escort out the house". I walked towards the kitchen past Kathy, she said (I remember plain as day) "I'm sorry Gaz". I dont remember what I said back, although I did say something. Walking into the kitchen I could see the back door open, with another police outside. I headed for it, again that walk seemed to take forever. 

Finally I managed it, I got to the back door, I stopped, took a deep breath, not looking back, I stepped through and into the next chapter of my life.

To be continued..........