I get up every day full of hope and ready to embrace the world. I pack as many positive things in as I can as early as possible but it is very hard at the moment not to let the world engulf me in woes. My mother is now in a respite home which is likely to be forever. Her dementia is such that she needs eyes on her 24/7 to make sure she doesn’t run away. My father has such poor oxygen levels in his blood that any walking about even to visit my mother makes him dizzy and ill. Visiting them both feels very sad and difficult. They are my only real family and this is terribly sad. Once they are gone I will be alone.

On Saturday I have been invited to a party that I ought to attend but it’s where my ex drinks and I can’t face seeing him and his other man. This sweet and kind invite has opened a chasm of gloom in my head I keep trying to fill in. My mother’s care home is in the road where he parks his car which distresses me every time I visit her. And the lovely Yoga teacher I met on the beach at the lunar eclipse teaches in a hall on the road he lives on. I still can’t deal with all these possible chances to run into him. I am still totally bereft without him which is so totally irritating. Will it ever ever get better? Everyday I still wake up in the middle of the night with anxiety attacks. I panic as I feel the humiliation of loving someone who stopped loving me back but who never got round to telling me that he didn’t love me any more. I turned down so many wonderful opportunities in life for new adventuress and journeys just to remain near a man who had stop loving me years ago.Why didn’t he have the balls to tell me? Worse though is that it is so tragic that I am still obsessed with him! Yet I do still love the twunt completely and I’m not sure how to move forwards and not think about him all day after nearly 8 months. I feel so dumb.

My spirit is entirely broken and because he won’t ever explain why he was so mean I cannot let go of it. What the fuck is wrong with you that seven years of my love is worth nothing? It hurts me everyday that someone I loved so completely could be so cruel back. I’ve lost all my self respect and can’t seem to find it amongst the shit in the gutter. Will I ever be able stand back up and feel proud enough of myself to ever let someone into my heart again? I am beginning to fear that I won’t. Neither will I fall in love or trust someone ever again and that thought plays in my mind over and over. How did I lose all control to someone who was so selfish they forgot to say we were over but still kept letting me pay for so much? Stupidly though I still love him and that annoys me so fucking much. People can tell me he’s not worth it and that I deserve better but sadly I am so utterly broken that I can’t seem to get that into my stupid head. I wish I knew how to fix myself but I don’t.

Recently as I mentioned in another blog I was asked to write a poem for the Labour Party but they asked me to edit it as they decided it might be too dangerous to say in the presence of Jeremy Corbyn because the media like to twist things. The media don’t tell the truth ever. It ought to have made me feel proud that I wrote such a strong piece about my fragile mental health and the terrible welfare care system for my parents but instead it has made me retreat further into a place of darkness and self loathing. I no longer find any joy in writing. The scripts and my novel writing was saving me from my madness and depression. Ironic that writing has now been the instrument of my current darkness and the blunt tool that ended that great desire to craft stories to share with the world. At first writing was for my great lover man. I wanted to show him all the creativity that existed in my head but he never once read anything I wrote. Not even a page from my blog, ever and it was all written for him. So he would know what I was doing when we were apart but he was too busy enjoying my absence to care what I was doing. I just couldn’t or wouldn’t wake up and see that. I really need to sort out my psychopathic loyalty. It’s not healthy or clever – apparently.

I have been trying everything I can to fill my mind by being busy. The gym, cooking, helping other people with odd jobs, socialising and getting out and about all the time. I recently found a studio that is totally perfect for my Sound Healing work that I have starting doing again after a break of 20 years. I have a unique gift for helping facilitate healing in others but not in myself. Which is rather comical. In my 20s this gift frightened me so much that I stopped doing it as people put me on a pedestal that isolated me. Now I’ve got use to the isolation and it doesn’t frighten me when the wonderful happens and people allow themselves to be transformed by the vocal vibrations I perform. I love it and it lifts my soul to help others. I have big plans for it too and many people are asking for sessions to help with many kinds of blockages.

Yet even here I feel like fate is toying with me unnecessarily. A woman has beaten me to the lease of the studio I want, even though she is planning to live illegally in the property rather than use it for a proper commercial purpose! She wants to move in so she can avoid paying council tax. Why do people who act with bad intentions pull off deeds that are seemingly shut off from me when everything I do is about being kind? It makes me weep and also fuels the darkness in my head as I am ready to get working there and have other therapists who are interested in using the space for their healing arts too. I keep trying to remain optimistic but the Universe keeps asking me to wait. For how fucking long? I keep reminding myself that the building wants me as there have been a series of wonderful synchronicities every time I visit the place and sit outside dreaming to manifest it toward me. Yet day by day it remains empty and the woman waits to illegally move in. Team Selfish needs to stop being greedy and let Team Me in.

It’s tough knowing that in 50 years I’ve only had two partners and that in both cases I have never really felt loved by either of them. I can’t imagine what it would feel like for someone to say they love you and that they adore you and to know they mean it. Or to have them tell you that the creative thoughts flowing like fountains from your head excite them. How must it feel when you tell a person that lying in their arms is the most safe and beautiful place in the world, it must be so beautiful to hear them reply that having you there in their arms is their favourite thing too. Am I just hopelessly romantic. Is that a real world kind of love? Or it it just a fantasy I’ve dream up that can’t be real? It’s what I said often to the last man I loved. Over and over again so he’d know that I always had his back and yet he stayed silent every time. Maybe I needed to hear the response of I love you too so much I imagined it? It is something I have longed to hear all my life after all. I hug my pillow but it remains silent every night.

Will there ever be someone brave of kind enough to fill this space?

Oh my… this really is beginning to sound so tragic and sad that I wouldn’t read it back even to edit corrections haha. I am sure I’m a kind and lovable soul really but in the hellish holes of depression it’s so hard to keep up the smiling optimism. I meet a wonderful woman around town walking her dog. Her husband has depression and while she says she can’t imagine what that feels like as she’s never suffered with anything like it she adores her husband and supports him thoroughly. She also understands that without my depression my creativity would not be so great. She also encourages me to keep writing about these dark moods. And she offers me hugs for not allowing myself to be edited. She knows I will recover but only time can heal properly. So perhaps with the right love I might be able to face my depression, holding hands with someone who wants to help me feel loved and secure and happy but right now in this traumatic headspace I’m not sure that is something I will ever know. That’s how depression works. You know the truth but it robs you of all the hope you have. Will I ever be able to forgive my ex for his silent emotional abuse? I hope so.

This all seems terribly sad right now but I do currently really damaged by the man I thought was my greatest ever love. Tomorrow I may feel completely different? Maybe the landlord of the studio will call and say he’s heard a rumour that his new tenant was not being honest with him? Until something positive happens I’ll keep trying to cheer up and I’ll keep looking for my twin flame or soul mate. They must be out there somewhere waiting to glide in and offer me true love.

Just what is my problem?

Life sucks sometimes but I do keep battling on, people. Fighting depression is so very hard everyday. The brain has patterns and mine just now is self loathing for being an idiot and failing to notice when I was being humiliated and not loved. Fighting 50 is also tough as you still feel 20 but realise that you aren’t that spotty youth with a world of new experiences waiting to embrace you. A friend recently rather cruelly told me “The world of creative possibilities is never likely to happen now so you should stop hoping and get a proper job with a pension!” Fuck off. I’d rather have a drug habit than a poxy pension. Obviously I disagreed with him but then I fear I’m just be delusional yet again. I seem to have a problem with sorting out hope and faith in myself and acknowledging when I am suffering from actual delusions. However I don’t have a problem seeing that he is not a very supportive friend anymore so I’m not rushing to text him anymore as I felt so bruised after we last met. I support others not burn their dreams. That’s another problem I need to work through, I’m always there for everyone but it doesn’t seem that anyone is particularly there for me. And yes that really fucking hurts! I’m just a working class lad who never stops learning and being creative but I do have principals that I will not compromise. I believed from a young age that like a fine wine I would find myself later in life. I could of course be wrong but that means not having dreams and hopes. The forecast might not be looking that sunny at the moment. But I must have my eyes on the future not the past or I might just not get up next time I stumble. I might not keep on walking into my dreams with my naive optimism. So some say that’s my problem but I say without hope you have given up? As with all these blogs about my “Opening Up” the dark pain that’s in me, everything I write about feels so much less painful once I’ve confessed on here and pressed “Publish”. So all you kind people who read these rambles. Firstly well done, I’m not sure I could read them. But also please don’t worry about my mental health I am fine really. I’m just sharing to help others understand. I’ve coped for 50 years and I’ll go on coping I’m sure but sharing these Depression Confessions is really helping me to feel so much better. Thank-you. It’s really so good to let all kinds of shit go.

Shit with fancy potty tips – ouch!

Chat me up people

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