My Princeling is staying at his friends house tonight. It’s weird you know. Even though he spends hours in his room gaming or whatever, I can feel his presence in the house. Just me, Mr C and Mr T tonight. I haven’t had an Indian in months so I dropped by the local and picked up my usual. Then it hit me… The last time I was here was for My Lady’s 40th birthday… ” Ooooohhh happy day!!”

I can tangibly sense the emptiness in the house. So this is what it’s like to be alone in my house… I don’t like it. Our home was always busy in some way all the time. I did three races this evening to take my mind off it. It worked for the most part but as ever, once the deed is done, then what? Oh yeah… Poor me again. Ugh and to think I have the rest of my life to live with this crap.

I want to say more but I’m exhausted now so I’m going to bed.

Night friends. x

20th August 2020.

I came home and sat looking through all the songs I have learnt and know well. The Jimi ones were fun. I forgot I knew some of them. Wind Cries Mary, Hey Joe, Purple Haze and Foxy Lady. Oh… I just remembered. We used to play Fire in the band I was in a lifetime ago. I’ll add that to the list. Spent a few hours playing. Felt good pounding the hell out of my guitar. Even Tornado Of Souls by Megadeth was almost correct. If you don’t know the song, have a quick listen. You don’t need to be into Metal to appreciate how hard it is to learn. I’ve been at it for months.

My latest learnings are ‘Reign’ by Toygirl

And ‘Both Sides Of The Moon’ by Celeste.

Reign is very much like Tash Sultana. Both Toygirl and Tash borrow heavily from Jimi Hendrix’ style. Is there a guitarist alive who didn’t at some point? The only improvisation I’m any good at is his bluesy fluidness. When I’m in the zone anyway. Bloody awful when I’m not!

My Princeling is out celebrating with his pals in town. I hope they are having a good time. Lots of them met up after we got the results. That leaves me wondering what to do. I don’t want to play guitar just yet. I played for hours earlier but it was too loud. My ears don’t want it! Might go and get a take away in a bit. I gave my Princeling money for a slap up meal with his pals too. Hmm. Not had an Indian meal in months… I think I deserve a few races actually. As I mentioned before, its one of my favourite tracks and I rarely get more than 2 races in an evening as they are over 45 minutes long.

I’m hungry…

20th August 2020.

Exam results day today. Yet another poignant day. After the grading fiasco then the last minute U-turn, my Princeling has passed all of his GCSE’s after all. He is “Gassed”. Even if the world was still normal, today would have been emotional. Such a long slog, the last five years and now it’s done. My Lady would have been so proud. I keep swinging between being overjoyed at his results then crying my eyes out as My Lady isn’t here to see it. Such a heady mix.

My Princeling and I spent the morning together, repeatedly high five ing each other with the odd yelp. I just dropped him in town so he can celebrate with his pal’s just like I did on results day.

Given today’s significance, I was compelled to come to Costa yet again to blog about it. I haven’t let my Princeling see me cry today. The same thing is in the back of our minds though. We did talk about how Mum would be so proud, briefly. Not something either of us want to dwell on too much. Impossible for me though. Can’t shift it. I’m sure he feels the same.

So what to do now? Pathetic as it is, I’m glad to be shot of the Lothario work. I’ll follow up on the leads I had but I don’t have the energy to do as much as yesterday. I’m feeling creative today. I’ll finish cleaning when I get back and play some guitar. Since that night I had the crappy tone, I’ve not wanted to play. The thing is when trying to find the tone you want, any amp needs to be driven before it sounds right. My amp might not be big but it’s a monster in disguise. Rarely if ever do I get it past 2-3 on the distortion channel and 4-5 on the clean channel. Other than gigs of course! As I’m alone today and next door is at work, I’ll see if it’s an issue or just having the amp turned up to < 1 in the evenings. I fancy playing a bit of Jimi today. Already know a few so nail those down. Trouble is, I’ve started learning so many pieces, I’ve completed next to none of them. I could potentially practise for over 4 hours and not repeat anything. If only I could sing and play at the same time. Ok I can on a couple but that’s it. Think I might get some singing lessons one day. Another cathartic process. Singing at the top of your voice.

Oh well, I’m going home. I’ll end up sat here until I have to pick up my Princeling. May add to this later. Not sure if I should publish the first bit then update through the day.

Laters…

19th August 2020.

My dear friend and newly adopted sister has said repeatedly that she thinks I would make a really good carer. As I said before, I laughed every time but after a long chat I decided, why not? I’ve tried so many things before, why block this just because it’s new. Weird given the mental block on the Lothario work. I think it’s because it’s so far out of the box I have nothing to lose. Who knows? I have spoken to a few care providers and they all seem to think I am a good fit. Currently waiting on a call from the local Mencap. Funny… I had intended to do some charity work of some sort going forward. I still do. But, rudderless as I am, I have no clue what caring role is for me. Just crack on and try them I guess. I have a couple of months to explore this. Mencap provide full training… Interesting…

Made further calls to care providers today along with several technical recruiters. The hardest thing is figuring out what to go for. I’ve turned my hand to so many things in my working life. Lots of good transferable skills but no career until my last job.

So I had plenty of good feedback about moving into caring. I won’t lie, every time I got a positive feedback I laughed so hard after every time. Who knew? Me as a carer. Amazing what happens when you actually open your mind to any possibility. I have no idea if it’s for me but I’m going to try a few things while I have a little time. I’m thankful for the kick up the butt I received from my dear friend and newly adopted sister last night. I need to analyse the mental block about the Lothario work. Regardless of whether or not it was completely self inflicted, the fact remains my mind has been freed up. I’ve done more job search work in four or five hours today than I have in the last month. Annoying.

So… Remember me saying how I’m happy to scream “Anything else!!??” at the Cosmos? Well maybe I spoke too soon… And for the top prize tonight…? One stolen Princelings bicycle… I actually did scream this time. Not at him I might add. I know of countless teenagers that dumped their bike when diving in the loo while they were out, only to come out and have to walk home. My best friend at school had his stolen when it was a few days old!

I was trying to avoid coming out to Costa again just to blog but the bike thing… Luckily I have lots of points on my app so it’s free today. No grief spend guilt.

Finish this later …

So yet another “Interesting” day. Joy… I must learn to take the positives out of every situation… So easy! I’m struggling to process today’s events. Given the constant, relentless upheaval this year, this is just another one. At least this one is positive. That alone feels new. I mean… C’mon. Do I not deserve a break? Have I not paid my tab up front and more? I don’t expect anything in this life to fall into my lap but it’s so exhausting keeping this up. I say this every day, thinking about it. But I’m still here plugging away. It feels like I’m flogging a dead horse half the time.

I’m quite mentally tired now, yet my mind is still craving something… Once I pick up my Princeling, I’ll figure that out. Maybe a race or two. Once he is in bed. The Skip Barber Championship on IRacing is at Circuit Gilles Villeneuve in Canada. One of the old F1 tracks loved by all racing fans and one of my favourites.

Exam results day tomorrow. Bless him, it’s been a long road to this day and our whole world exploded this year too so we have no clue what will happen tomorrow.

18th August 2020.

I have one question today… Where the hell has my storm gone? Not now… Just… Not now… Oh look, there it is… Going in the opposite direction…

So today I am fighting the good fight in order to get things done. It’s taking the biggest effort to do anything. I think I’m starting to snap out of it a little. It’s the same cycle again and again. I have a few ‘good’ days, then a trigger followed by a few dark downer days. The ratio varies wildly and unpredictably. This cycle has been even more infuriating. The downer is dragging out this time. I’m bored with it now and sitting here looking at my messy house getting angry with myself for letting it slide… Again. This anger is usually productive but not always. Whatever, the house is clean again and I’m cracking on with more job searching. Lets see what the rest of today holds… Oh joy… Can’t wait…

Hmm.. I said above that I think I’m snapping out of it. Not so much. Emotionally its like trying to dance the Cha-Cha on a giant razor blade over a pit of hungry Crocodiles a-la Indiana Jones. You can only take one route. Left or right, you die. Give up, you get sliced in half… So yet again stepping into the dark, sword flailing around with bloodied feet and pride, hoping the sword doesn’t connect with… Well, anything…

So now I’m going deaf it seems. Talked to the doctor yet again and I have an appointment. They’re not overly concerned but its an unwelcome (for once) distraction. My balance is off. I’m sure my audio system is playing up but can’t trust my ears at the moment. I can’t even play guitar properly as it constantly sounds off in some way. Fun times…

Finished cleaning and straight away I felt myself slipping again. Not having any of it so I had a Lush bath, groomed my beard and so on. Ok, the house is mostly clean, washing is nearly finished and I smell divine… Now what? Oh yes… Poor me… Rest assured dear reader I am fighting this urge to wallow in self pity with all my might. This is not the time…

I’ll finish this post this evening.

It looks like I can trust my ears after all. The audio issue I mentioned sounded like it was on a really low bit rate. Like it was under water. The quality was set to auto. Weird. At least my system isn’t up the creek. Sounds great again. So why did my guitar sound crappy last night? I suspect the potentiometers on the amp are dirty as some have a slight crackle when turned but I’m not sure how much that would contribute to the crap tone. Ugh, another mystery. Great.

My dear friend and newly adopted sister is popping round shortly. I really owe them a visit. Must arrange that. Another symptom of the hibernating mode I’ve been in. Missing people like crazy but the thought of going out… Sometimes it’s too much.

The more I think about it, the more I feel I can’t do this social media thing for Lothario. Not so much because I don’t think I can, despite my recent lows. Precious did this stuff in her degree. She would smash this easily and we could all use the extra pennies. I wound myself up so much over it like a muppet. Drama Queen much. I’ll tell Lothario tonight.

My dear friends and adopted sister and brother both came round in the end. I had a Tarot reading with her new deck. I don’t know why I’m surprised but it was bang on. She has no idea. All the messages the cards gave were all thoughts I had been having about life, my emotional and spiritual (Such as it is) state.

Yet again, them coming round just showed me how pathetically lonely I am most days. Honestly, when my newly adopted sister said she was coming round, I almost did a fist pump! I’m STILL fighting the urge to wallow in self pity. For the most part I’m winning… Finally. My newly adopted sister suggested, again, that I should try being a carer. Every time she has said it, my automatic response is a big belly laugh. But she is serious. She thinks I would make a lovely carer. What the hell? I still think it’s the weirdest thing anyone has said to me. I know I need to think out of the box now but that is as far out of the box as it gets for me! I’ll investigate and see what happens. And I thought this year couldn’t get any weirder…

Got up at 9 yesterday. Finally getting into some kind of ‘normal’ sleeping pattern. Next steps were meeting at a local cafe at 10am. I honestly had no clue what to expect. I guess I kind of imagined a group of people all sat in a circle like an AA meeting! “Hello my name is **** and I’m grieving”. How ignorant I am.

Nothing of the sort. They just meet up more for company than anything it seems. Of course, being new I explained my situation to a few but not all and there was no pressure to do so. So I had a coffee and a bacon roll while I tried to shake my new found social awkwardness. One lady was particularly lovely and sat by me to explain what the group is about and what they get up to. There’s a whatsapp group and they hold quiz nights on Zoom. We carried on talking when everyone left as we are both sure we have seen each other before. Turns out she used to own an electronics company and given my work history, it’s highly likely our paths crossed. We just couldn’t nail it down. We were chatting til gone 1!

So a lot to process… Not only did I have anxiety about stopping the Wednesday Cruse drop in meetings, but physically meeting a GROUP of strangers really put me on edge. Can’t get used to that. I have always liked meeting new people in the past.

While talking to Mrs Electronics, I teared up a couple of times. Just for a mo. Once we were done, I went back to the car and flumped in the drivers seat and just burst into tears. Sat for a few minutes crying before I could get it together to drive. It had just hit me… Again… How young My Lady was when she passed away. How young WE were. All these lovely people have had, I guess, an average of around 20-30 years before they lost their partner. I got 13 years. Don’t get me wrong. I’m incredibly grateful for that and I don’t have any resentment towards anyone about this. I’m just so jealous. I’d give anything to have had 40 years with My Lady. All being well, (MmHmm…) we could have had another 40-50 years together. I have never seen myself growing old with anyone before My Lady. Together, we regularly imagined stories and scenarios about our wrinkly old age. My Lady would have been a beautiful ‘old’ Lady. Every year that went by, she just… Matured so beautifully if that’s the word.

So yet again I’m wallowing in self pity, randomly bursting into tears when I got home. Not the painful but not despairing cry I had got used to, which is for the most part controllable when I make the effort. This was back to the first month. Mental. I had convinced myself that I would not end up back there both as a result of my newfound strength and self belief but also the drugs. I realise now that in the last month or two, despite everything, I have kept it together mostly. It was really shit. Back to wringing my hands like a rabid lunatic, rocking back and forth, screaming and crying at the same time. It couldn’t last as fortunately the brain will simply not allow you to continue like that for too long. Thank the Goddess. “All cried out.”? That’s a thing, trust me. I just end up staring into space, eyes red, swollen,sore and dry.

As yesterday progressed, I started getting a pain in my left ear. That’s gone now but I have a constant ringing in my ears now and my left ear has half the volume. Great… Yet another health issue to get checked out. I know I said the the kids, “We all need an MOT” but this is getting silly. If we were rich I’d just get all three of us booked into a private medical centre and get every damn test and scan available. I pretty much sat in silence for most of the rest of the day. I realised I had had music on non stop all the time I was awake. The silence was deafening. Nice though. I had a lie down on the sofa for a bit. I literally never sit on the sofa any more. My Lady and I used to spend almost every night snuggled on the sofa watching ‘Crappy TV’… For years… Left to my own devices, I have never watched a lot of TV. I didn’t care what we watched, I wasn’t there for the TV. Even if we weren’t snuggling, just being sat next to her… I was home.

My Princeling just came home. With the cycling he is doing, plus the socialising too, he seems to be a a lot less stressed out. So we watched a movie together for the first time in I don’t know how long. It was lovely. Not as bad as previously, but the empty space on the sofa was constantly in the back of my mind. Once he was home, I turned my phone off. The emotions today have made me very insular (interesting, given I’m blogging about it!) and all I wanted to do was hide in my self pity bubble. I’d poked a few people during the day, but people have lives etc. I felt a bit needy which annoyed me. Poke… [please talk to me] ‘Well fine, I’m hiding then.’ Like a petulant teenager. I still want to hide today. I keep turning the phone off and on as My Princeling is out cycling again. I’d rather have it off but I’d stress so much if there was an emergency and he couldn’t contact me. This whole vibe is really frustrating. It’s all very well being the storm, but I always knew the ultimate test would be keeping it up. I don’t expect miracles either. I know there will be times where I can barely function through the grief and I already proved I can be the storm too. Two opposites, as far apart as is possible. Meh…

More later…

There was something relieving about having my phone turned off. For the first time, it felt ok to be on my own, in fact it’s what I wanted. Originally because of self pity but I wanted to be alone with that if that makes any sense at all. I guess if I can’t be contacted, I can’t be triggered… Maybe… As you see, it’s rather messed up.!

16th August 2020.

So I’m sat in McDonald’s this time, taking advantage of the eat in to help out scheme. What a great way to tackle societal obesity. Well it works, I’m here having spent barely £3.

Still can’t shake this new downer. Had a nap two days running. That never happens. I say new but looking back this hasn’t stopped since I collected the lock of My Lady’s hair. I’ve been up and down but it’s always there. Skulking in the dark corners of my mind like some kind of demon, eyes glowing red like hot coals, forked tongue flicking out into the light with a sickening hiss.

This is the part of grief I resent the most. Mainly because it’s debilitating and stops me getting anything done (other than naps) and it makes one feel weak and pathetic. I’m not… I know I’m not. I’ve proven it many times since My Lady passed away. So what gives? Knowing the psychology behind it all actually makes it worse, as you can’t act on it. As mentioned elsewhere, anxiety about having anxiety… Vicious cycle. Spiteful even, if you ask me.

Done in McDonald’s. Dropping off some audio equipment to my friend.

I’ll finish this later…

Smoking in the garden at the end of another mental day. It was good to catch up with my friend today. We haven’t had the chance of a really good chat in ages. We talk every day but still… Made arrangements for coffee next week with Mrs White Sage. Must be hell for her and all the other teachers this week. Absolute cluster fuck this year due to the governments u-turn on the algorithm fiasco. Now we are using predicted grades after all. What a mess. My Lady would have so much to say on the matter. What I wouldn’t give to hear what she had to say about it. This whole year actually.

I just got a call from my Princeling to ask me to drop off his first proper cv. He says his friend got him a job in a burger place. I’m impressed. Everyone who starts in a working kitchen is basically a dogs body. Not what I expected from him. Honestly that takes a weight off my shoulders that I didn’t even know was there. Obviously I put major pressure on myself, not only to do the right thing by our children, but to do the right thing by My Lady. High standards indeed. She is a legend… You have no idea! I’ve started cutting myself some slack on that front. How could I ever life up to My Lady’s standards? Even the children have said to me I need to let that go. You’ll just stress yourself out. And they agree that no one could live up to that. I’d never want to, let alone be able to replace her.

I still haven’t had a good look at the lock of hair the funeral parlour saved me. Had a quick peek and… Nope. Not yet…

I keep being told “Oh you look better. You’re doing really well.” How would anyone know how I’m doing if they haven’t been through this? Pray you never do. The Cosmos didn’t give me the choice. What do I do, give up on the kids and our fur babies and just end up dead in a gutter somewhere? Of course not. It’s amazing what the brain can do when it has too. I think it has less to do with ones cognitive ability to cope than the autopilot most of us have in the face of trauma/tragedy.

Whatever… The point is I just can’t get over being told I’m ok. I’m not f***ing ok. I’m even starting to resent it. How dare they think I’ve coped with it. I’m not supposed to. Oh I don’t know… I’m just sick of the whole thing as you can imagine. As I was in town dropping off my Princeling’s CV, I thought ‘Sod it, another Costa and blog.’

Nearly got triggered when entering the shopping mall. I have so many memories here. All the times buying Lush for My Lady when we were here… All the jewellery I purchased for her here… I just want to cry my eyes out again but again, like earlier, I’m not doing it here. Thanks to the drugs (I think) I’m able for the most part to squash it down.

As I’m writing this, my left pinky and ring finger are tingling and going numb. Not had that for quite a while. And just after me blogging about how the symptoms have gone. Fml dear reader, really? Guess I’ll be calling the doctor too. I’m not even crying at the mo, so that’s a bit more of a concern. Again, only for my loved ones. I couldn’t bear the thought of the effect of my dying on my loved ones… Horrific! But again, it’s not about me. I find it very strange to be so motivated to look after myself when I really don’t give a damn if I end up…

For the record, I don’t always feel like this. Just with the constant battering from people dying, getting sick or whatever it’s exhausting. My Dad cracked a joke about his passing recently. He always did. Not funny any more. I roasted him so much for that.

In short I’m f***ing done with people dying around me.

Last smoke before bed. It’s been a long day. My Princeling had issues with his bike this evening and had to walk home which meant he was really late back. After all the stress of my gay best friend being a stubborn old goat, I was really worried. Unnecessarily so as he had a few good friends with him. Still…

Currently listening to Reign in Blood by Slayer. That never gets old. Those riffs… I think it’s time to tune the Jackson down to Eb and play some proper Thrash. Think I’ll finish learning the album. Only been 30 years!

At the suggestion of a couple of friends I started a YouTube channel to document my progress with my new learnings. It’s bloody awful at the moment but that’s half the point. Analysing my playing that way has really helped. Another case of hubris too but you know what? I really don’t care on this one. I’m even writing a song called “I am the storm.” I don’t think it will be a ballad. Dark and moody. Probably tune down to D or even lower. Kind of a cross between Black Sabbath and Slayer with a splash of Morbid Angel. Funny…

12th August 2020.

So my gay best friend has a dangerous medical condition and he keeps putting off getting it seen to. His partner has been nagging him too so I gave him a bollocking this morning. On top of that, my dear friend and adopted sister might have the same thing after her tattoo. She however is right on it. I know what it’s like when you know you should get medical help but keep putting it off. However, I’m rather pissed of with him. Selfishly, after everything that has happened this year, the thought of losing anyone else… Just no. That would be the end of me. How many loved ones have to die before I’m permanently broken. Assuming I’m not already. I’m still waiting for the ultimate emotional freight train that will just slay me. I’ve been crying lots this week.

My Lady and Precious were on holiday together a few years ago today… Cry… This time last year we were in Croatia… Cry…I won’t be going back there. I’ll leave that beautiful bubble right there. It would break my heart to be there without My Lady.

My Mother in law passed away a year ago in a few weeks and my mother a month later. How many shit anniversaries are we going to have to deal with going forward? Logical I know but there won’t be single month of the year where I’ll have a break. I always knew that the older you get, people start passing more. In my case however, the Cosmos seems to be playing catch up for my younger years being relatively bereavement free. 9 close loved ones in the last 15 years. Recently I’m averaging 2 per year. Ffs. What did I do to deserve this?

Sat in Costa again. Don’t know what to do with myself today. My mind is not helping work wise. Incredibly frustrating. I’ve been given an easy opportunity to earn a bit of money and I just can’t get motivated… Again.

Listening to “The Queen of Everything” again. Seriously I just want to stop… Just stop… Everything… I still feel like I don’t want this life without My Lady in it. It’s only the kids and close friends that have kept me going. Shocking as it may be, dear reader, if we lived in a gun country, I wouldn’t be here blogging. I’d have pulled the trigger in the first week. You only have to be desperate enough for a split second. Easy… Cowardly… The ultimate in selfish acts. I just want my baby back… I’m done here for now. Crying in Costa isn’t a good look…

Luckily I still have a couple of months to find a job. Yes I know… Hypocrite… It’s no different from my friend is it? Go figure.

The Cruse Bereavment charity has recommended I move on to the next steps program. I really don’t think I’m ready and I bonded with the people in the online zoom drop ins. I think I will miss them. I think they feel the same as they said such nice things when the last meeting finished. I’ve tried calling “ Next Steps” twice but have always got the voicemail. I’ll try again today but I’m getting anxiety about moving on, counselling wise.

11th August 2020

It’s six months today that My Lady passed away. I’ve been intermittently blocking it yesterday and today. Six months… Really? So surreal. I met with the lady who runs the local performing arts academy for coffee today. My Lady ran the TV and film class at the weekend. I still had some equipment to return but we have known each other for some time now and she was one of the amazing people that braved (no really) coming to see me early on when I was at my worst. Unkempt, ZZ Top beard… Not great. It was lovely to see her. While I was queing , the funeral directors called me. I hadn’t spoken to them since a couple of days after the funeral. They were calling to tell me I can collect the other lock of My Lady’s hair they kept for me. Timing much…

So Mrs Performing Arts and I sat chatting about My Lady and the circumstances surrounding her passing. To be fair, it was mostly myself rambling on. Bless her. It really showed me how socially awkward I am now. I always was a little but now? Particularly around My Lady’s colleagues. Not only was My Lady very private about our life when it came to colleagues but as it turns out, that most amazing, beautiful Goddess that she is, had told all of them about our love story. About how she always wanted to be treated like a Queen and that she had found it in me. (Pause for cry…) Lots of other heart rending story’s about how we felt about each other too. Losing your partner when they are still hopelessly in love with you will destroy a person you know. Whilst I’m still relatively healthy, bat shit crazy but healthy, the person I was the day My Lady was admitted to A&E… Is dead. Destroyed. Utterly laid waste. I’m sure I can think of more superlatives but you get my point.

My dear friend and newly adopted sister is getting her memorial tattoo today. As My Lady was a Tarot reader too, she had had one of the cards from her own deck tattoo’d on her leg. I’m talking to her while shes having it done. The line work is lovely. It made me think about what I want done. Precious and my newly adopted sister and I all want a Tarot themed tattoo. I’m going to have copy’s of My Lady’s small tattoo’s to start with. To be honest, I want a whole bloody sleeve but as my dear friend and newly adopted sister pointed out, “You need a job first.” Hmm… Good point.

10th August 2020.

Back in Costa today. I thought it might be productive with work stuff. Everyone was queuing politely, when a pair of “ladies” just waltzed past the whole queue and started dragging the tables together. Wow. It really stressed me out. How I didn’t have a go at them I’ll never know. Jebus! So I set the laptop up, then remember I’m outside with no connection. Ok hotspot it is. Phone decides to have a fit and won’t connect. Ok, usb then… Nope. Reboot phone… Yaaaaaassss!!!! 3 minutes and I’m out of data… Aarrrgggghhhh!!!!! I’m actually in a headset where I can crack on with work and I’m getting thwarted at every turn.

My dear reader… Why does the Cosmos taunt me so?

Evening now. I’ve spent most of the time today going through more content for the client, sat in my swimmers, my huge floor fan going full chat and I’m dripping with sweat. I ran my head under the cold tap twice and had two cold showers so far!!

I’m finding this whole social media research a little frustrating. I think maybe because I’m of the last generation that didn’t grow up with the internet and social media particularly. It’s not intuitive for me. I mean why the hell would you need to hashtag the word “our” in “see our latest offers” ??? It’s painfully slow and really hard to get into with this latest downer I’ve been on. All I really want to do is listen to depressing songs or play the guitar. All well and good but not conducive to creating a whole new life for ourselves. I’ve worn many different hats in my working life but it’s been over 4 years since I started something completely new to me.

At the risk of sounding repetitive, Anything else!!?????

I mean… What the actual? One thing after another after another. Lost my step mum November 2017, mother in law last August, my mother a month later, the cat two days before Christmas, Precious gets hit by a motor bike in January (she’s ok) I lose my soulmate in February and my job in July. Like I said, ANYTHING ELSE??!!

So I’m now sitting in the garden in my (2nd) pair of swimmers. I smell divine. Mr C and Mr T are both hassling to be fed. You could feed them a battleship directly from the barbecue and they would still want their food in a bowl at dinner time.

Last smoke before bed. Spent the last couple of hours learning the solo to Tash Sultana’s “Notion”. If ever there was a piece of guitar to learn in My Ladies memory, this is it. I’ll learn the whole song but that solo… Go listen to the song when you’ve finished reading. You won’t regret it.

So here we are at the end of another mental day. How the hell I don’t just go pop and start having seizures again, I really don’t know. At least it’s cooled down now. I might get some decent sleep. Meeting My Lady’s colleague for coffee tomorrow to give her the remaining equipment My Lady has… had. Still doing the present tense thing. Will be nice to sit and chat with someone. I get very lonely… I feel socially awkward even more now. I’m used to having no filter and getting away with it. Mr C and Mr T aren’t exactly going to take offence at my lack of etiquette!

So good riddance to today. May tomorrow not be quite such an arse… So mote it be…

9th August 2020

Sat in Costa again this lunchtime. Seems a good place for me to chill and write this drivel. I’m as near to genuinely relaxed here as I’ve been in quite a while. Strange, given that it reminds me of this poor guy who used to sit in the pub I used to work in. He lost his wife and has spent pretty much all day, every single day since he lost her sat in the pub sipping his drink. I used to really feel for him but obviously could never understand. Until now. I totally get it. My Lady and I haven’t spent much time here so minimal triggers. Still, watching the world carry on… That still hurts. I say “still” as though I should have expected it to have stopped by now. Not at all. Not a minute goes by where I don’t think of what she is missing. How ridiculously unfair this whole thing is. I mean… This kind of shit only happens to other people right? If only. I’m in denial this morning. I put off the research yesterday, convincing myself I should be better tomorrow and will be able to crack on. I’m not quite as bad as yesterday but it’s still there. “Simmering” under the surface, waiting for the slightest poke or trigger to burst out again. That’s another irritating part of it. The anxiety that causes just adds to the heady mix. Anxiety about having an anxiety attack… and around we go. As you can see it’s not much fun.

So once I’m done here I’ll have to go back to pretending I’m ok, going through the motions of housework, etc etc. Probably so I can procrastinate over the work stuff. I’ve no idea why my anxiety works like that when I know full well that the only way to get rid of the feeling is to meet head on whatever is causing it. I’ve always known this. Does it change anything? Of course not! Man I’m seriously messed up. The fact that I’m fully aware of how messed up I am is even more crazy. Oh, for a world class psychologist! I have learned more than I ever realised about my psyche from My Lady. (She was a psychologist as well as a teacher) it’s infuriating. I’m stuck in a logic loop on that. ‘If only she could she how I’ve changed.’ ‘If she was still here, I wouldn’t have changed… Would I?’

The sad thing is, I doubt I would have changed. Or at least quickly enough to make My Lady truly happy. Everything about us was awesome. In 13 years My Lady did not once, and I mean not once, do anything that I would consider mean, disrespectful, spiteful or anything else for that matter. Only if I gave her just cause. And I knew it. I always knew it. From experience, I know I’ll never find anyone else like her. Indeed, I don’t want to. I’ve spent masses of time contemplating and reflecting. I’ve run through every single person I can remember meeting in my life and not one even comes close… Not one. That’s 45 years and not one. As mentioned in a previous blog, I’ll never trust anyone like I trust My Lady. Every other relationship I’ve had, I’ve been crapped on left, right and centre. Partly due to my naivety and stupidity and partly due to my awful choice in partners. It’s no wonder My Lady swept me off my feet. Ooohh how I have learned those lessons! Precisely why I’ll never trust again…

8th August 2020. 4:57pm

My Lady’s close friend and colleague Mrs White Sage is turning fifty in a few months and her daughter kindly asked me if I would like to contribute my favourite recipe to a recipe book she is making. I used to spend so much time in the kitchen. Even trained as a chef for a bit. The point is I used to love cooking. This is the first time since My Lady passed that I have actually put together a FRESH meal in some time. Other than a few roasts. I don’t know why but my Chicken Chow Mein was always lacking something and I never figured out what it was. Randomly tried oyster sauce and oh my it was lovely. Of course it was, it just had to be now My Lady isn’t here to taste it. I know her pallet inside out and she would have loved it. You see, everything I ever did was either for My Lady or with her in mind… Always was. Cliche it may be, but it’s true. I never realised how much until I lost her. So, the Chow Mein… I thought it would be a major chore given my motivation the last few days. And, just like playing the guitar or gardening or whatever, once I got started I fell in to that weird place I go when super focussed. Still don’t know what to call it. Maybe “ In the zone” as a sportsperson would say. I enjoyed cooking it and I even enjoyed eating it this time. Skills!

I got my first guitar when I was six and have been very much on and off with it throughout my life. I’ve done a few pub bands and plenty of pub gigs, but never took it anywhere other than that. The last time I truly felt my muse was when I was living on my own just before meeting My Lady. I never understood why my muse dried up after a while. My love for her had only increased exponentially.

The point is, it’s back. Like so many other things in my head. I got myself the guitar I had wanted since I was a kid and dived back in. It’s amazing how far you can get on the guitar being self taught, but that brings with it it’s own problems. Now I’m learning the correct posture, scales and music theory, it turns out I have many bad habits to undo. It’s coming though. I found an incredible teacher online and it’s so cheap. I’m pushing my playing further than ever before. To be fair, like everyone else, lock down has given us plenty of time to do these things but still. Without the motivation it wouldn’t happen. It’s crazy you know, but nearly everyone who is actively in my life right now has never really seen me play. At all in some cases. Now I’m getting asked to do all sorts of songs.

My “to do” playlist on Spotify has 56 tracks in it and is 4 hours and 42 minutes long! Over reaching much! Having said that I’m starting to pull off some Steve Vai, Joe Satch and I’m loving learning Tornado of souls by Megadeth. Almost there…

8th August 2020:

I‘m sat at the back in the local Costa on a Saturday lunchtime, watching the world carry on like nothing ever happened. My Lady passed away nearly six months ago now. Mental… Apart from the masks, things seem back to normal. Snotty unmasked kids, screaming and crying around the ankles of the stressed out sweaty parents. Great… I really don’t want this “normal”. After everything this year, the thought of society going back to the dirty, inconsiderate and selfish ways before lockdown just stresses me out.

Yesterday was shit. Really shit. I’d not even heard the train for what feels like ages and this one just rolled in instead of mind that train, what train? Splat! Don’t know if I should be grateful for that or not. I’m supposed to be researching some clients for a project my friend and former colleague has started. I just couldn’t get my head in the game. Staring at the documentation and absolutely nothing was going in. Damn it, where’s my ‘storm’ now?

In the end, I just scrabbled around for things to do. Obsessive cleaning, weeding the beds. All of which will always be poignant. Barely a distraction from the intense maelstrom raging in my heart. Of course, the masochist in me put on all the “wrong” songs. Unusually, one was a Gary Moore blues tune. Whilst I was in the middle of crying over it, I decided I should learn to play it. This is why the blues exists in the first place is it not? It seems there are only two things that truly distract me and stop me from bawling. Playing guitar and e-racing. Both of which require a particular kind of focus that for the most part precludes the flow of intense emotions. To clarify, I mean LEARNING on the guitar. There have been many times when I’ve played certain emotionally charged songs and just crumbled mid chord. Some of the songs My Lady and I loved and even jammed together were so beautiful and soulful. Look up “Notion” by Tash Sultana. https://open.spotify.com/track/4hmbwcUs392W3YQzpO0fcj?si=AImAX-0LR3aJxBGTb9YfLw This song made me cry the first time My Lady played it to me. Not even the lyrics, the guitar licks… Her killer voice… I’m sure she’s channelling Jimi and BB King all at once. This songs kills us every time. Even when I started learning it… Nope… Bam! Yet again.

So snapping back to the present, I think I had been up around half hour, in rolled the train… Again. My dear friend and newly adopted sister made me promise to get out today so here I am. Drinking an overly sweet vanilla latte when I asked for a “dash” of vanilla. Couldn’t even be arsed to mention it. So what to do today? My anxiety is building. I’ll finish this post later.

So, I’m home now. I still can’t get motivated. It’s getting really annoying. The heat doesn’t help, being in the mid 30’s. I tell myself ‘It’s the weekend, you can’t sort much out, so chill.’ Yeah right. I know damn well I’m lying to myself. There’s plenty I could get done and I know it and still I’m sat here blogging instead. Strummed a few songs in the garden, that killed half an hour or so. The funny thing is that everyone in their gardens went deathly quiet when I played and start talking again when I stopped. Compliment I guess.

A couple of hours later and after finding that my Greg’s sausage roll had been eaten, I’m pissed off again smoking in the garden listening to pregnancy Yoga ocean waves. What a stupid thing to get pissed off about! My Lady always loved the gentle lapping of waves, we used to go to sleep to it.

I need to get my shit together. I can’t afford to slip back into the broken full on grieving that I was doing early on. Just sitting in the garden, listening to tunes like “The Queen of all Everything”, crying all day. No fanx! And STILL I’m not moving, still pouring out my random thoughts for all the world to see. I’ve not shared this yet so no one has read it that I know of. I didn’t find WordPress very intuitive at first but I’m getting that hang of it. No point doing this if it’s all in the wrong order. So what now? Damned if I know. As My Lady said when referencing the unbidden feelings we had growing inside us… “Learn to surf.”…

Sunday, August 2nd, 2020.

I’m simply stunned. After everything, I genuinely believed that nothing could surprise me any more. Bam! A dear friend and “Work husband” as My Lady called him, has had to deal with a death close to home in the most tragic and horrific circumstances. It doesn’t matter how many times I say to myself ‘Well its all fucked anyway, so apocalypse mode enabled, full worst case scenario in all things.’ You could never expect this kinda shit. Awful things KEEP happening… Again and again and again. And I’m constantly surprised still. It’s so annoying. I’ve calmed down now but I’m still sat here in the garden smoking and shaking my head saying WTF repeatedly. I mean… WTF!!??

What the hell is going on? People keep dying around me. If I was superstitious, I would be certain I/we had been hexed. Now it seems I’ve passed the hex on. This isn’t a fucking relay race.

So what now? I’m on standby as my friend is in autopilot mode. You know, the mode most of us fall into when real trauma rears it’s ugly head. The poor guy is a legend.

After being on compassionate leave for 6 weeks then furloughed for months, I had seriously got out of work mode. I was expecting to return to work on the 4 August. Then in our weekly online company meeting we are told redundancies will be happening.

My managers perception of me is the old, beta, almost pathetic man with no drive and a memory like a sieve. (That bit was correct for a while, especially after my seizure in 2016.) After everything that has happened this year I have had no choice but to man up and in some ways, grow up. The old beta me has been dead for a while and I had alluded to this when chatting with colleagues. “You’ll have to get used to a new me guys.” I told them when I still had a job.

So when it came to my redundacy consultation with my line manager and his manager, they were both shocked that I wasn’t just blowing hot air. My manager (Mr Angry from now on) was just staring at me, mouth open, shaking his head. In short I changed his mind. As we finished and I was walking out, Mr Angry says to his boss “Can we have another chat about this?”

I knew damn well I was for the chop, but it was fascinating seeing Mr Angry’s reaction. If nothing else I proved to myself I can hold my own with these people and they are very hard to impress, being a bunch of used car salesmen driven by numbers. I even called them on wasting 20 odd minutes telling me how bad they felt and how they didn’t want to do it. “C’mon guys, we’re going round in circles, saying the same thing again and again, lets crack on shall we?” Why do I give a shit how they feel about it? Doesn’t change a damn thing. Indeed I got the old line “If we need someone again, you will be the first we call.” Great, another pointless platitude.

After four years at the place, I really had grown to like almost everyone. Even loved some of them. Some real gems there. My boss, the CEO… I’ll be forever grateful for the experiences I had there. He took the whole company to Croatia in 2018. My Lady and I were blown away. He blasted us around on his personal rib at 80 mph at times. My Lady and I were so happy there. I bonded with everyone a lot on that holiday. More than any other place of work. When My Lady passed away, the funeral plan was so new, it didn’t pay out. My Lady’s bestie and her hubby, adopted family now, started a fundraiser for her funeral. The outpouring of love and donations completely threw me. Not as much as when my boss doubled the companies contribution AND lent me the money for the funeral deposit. What a boss eh?

So as you can imagine after financially planing for the next 18 months, (No mean feat for my lame ass I can tell you.) it’s all useless now. So yet more uncertainty. I have lived on benefits, sick benefit for 6 years when I broke my back and grew up on benefits. As My Lady and I had worked our way out of poverty, my Princeling has no experience of being poor. Poor is a very relative term and he grew up in a newly middle class family and knows no different.

So into the darkness I go, swinging my sword like a legend. Hubris maybe, but I have to “Be the storm” if my family and I are to survive this on top of everthing else. Once more unto the breach dear friends. Yet another major upheaval to deal with. I’m either going to end up a real pro at this life shit or end up dead in a gutter somewhere.

No one is going to save me, no one is going to make me feel better… The ONLY person I trusted in the whole world is gone. Still doesn’t feel real…

The coroners report came in this week. Next to nothing new was learned. The details of My Ladies passing do not need discussing here but suffice to say there were circumstances that if played differently, would have had a completely different outcome. The coroner has opened an inquest into the matter. Having never read one before… Wow. It’s horrific. It was such was a shock. Everyone knows what a post mortem entails, but reading one about your loved one… Nasty.

So today we finally got to go for my Princelings birthday meal. Poignant yet again. We are both sitting here wondering what to talk about. Both trading small talks.

So I’m sat in my outhouse smoking, pondering what the fuck to do about life right now. My Princeling is still the filthy little teen he always was, just like every boy his age. The finance company for My Lady’s car have still not got rid of it. I’m tempted to call them and tell them either they get rid or I will. I’m furloughed for another month too. Great… Living my best life!

I started attending online drop in sessions with the Cruse Bereavement Charity recently. With everyone in lockdown, it’s the only counselling/therapy I can get. The last few weeks have been hell. Up and down like a bloody yo-yo. One minute quietly numb, then BAM! Emotional freight train straight through the heart.  Did I mention?… I hate trains!

So now I’ve been on antidepressants for a few weeks now. Last week my mood fell off a cliff and I have since found myself wallowing in a deep and dark depression. So much so that I called my GP. When I couldn’t get through, I used their e-consult service thinking it would just send on my message and the doctor would call me presently. I answered a few questions and at the end, a big red box came up saying ‘Call 111, your GP, or go to an urgent day care centre now’.

‘Ok’ I thought. ‘I knew I felt bad but really?’ So I call the GP again and the doctor immediately doubled my antidepressant dose and insisted I call him every week. ‘Wow… Has it really come to this?…‘