This isn’t easy, I just need to get it out, to say something and break my own silence. I’ve been avoiding all social media and the news like the plague.
When Cameron walked away from being both PM and an MP with immediate effect, something broke inside me. Something big. He literally walked away, after everything he’d done, into a world of money, privilege and reward. It was his worst betrayal yet and he didn’t give a shit.
To him and the rest of them it’s all just a game and they are at the top of it, and we are not invited, but more than that, they are stealing everything away from us. I don’t even know how long I will even have a pension for, they are ripping the life out of the country, asset stripping it, robbing us of health and social care, life, security and food and shelter.
I didn’t know what to do, I was completely devastated and had not one, single, answer.
I had to get away and Terry and Lesley gave me some much needed space with them in Paignton for which am so grateful, but inevitably I had to get back and then it all really hit home.
I am getting old and weak, by the day. The cancer is still there in my neck, the lumps reminding me of it’s alien presence and for once something that my body cannot deal with on its own.
Then something started happening with my right shoulder, a deep ache that grew and grew over weeks and just getting into bed one day something tore, it was so painful I collapsed on the bed (thankfully). That’s happened several times now and I can now barely use my right arm and the pain is constant. I have to sleep with a pillow supporting my arm, but even then I have to move it a bit every few minutes as the pain builds.
Between my head and body I was plummeting and jolly old Christmas was on its way.
I’ve stopped showering because of the pain and the effort it now takes, only getting in the shower when I felt disgusted with my own stink, and I thought, ‘This is it, I’ve no more resilience, it’s downhill all the way from here. I’m just a dead man walking.’
I’ve lived with social phobia for so much of my life, it is as natural as breathing to me, the need for isolation and silence. I’m aware that it has got more acute over the years, but that wasn’t difficult, but added altogether I was in one of the worst places I’ve ever been in and a week or so before Christmas I lost it. Although I’ve written a few things since the letters (writing is one of my great loves and I hope some of it was worth reading) but I knew I was going down and a week or so before Christmas I gave up. I’d lost all hope and I could find nothing to get a grip on to lift myself up so I hit the booze in the hopes that I would just die.
The trouble is I can’t even take the booze any more, drinking till I fell over and then waking up to start again until I was so stupefied I knew I couldn’t carry on. I knew what I was in for, drinking and hoping to die, then stopping and knowing I’d wish I had. I stopped drinking nearly three days ago, got some solid food inside yesterday afternoon and I’ve been eating today, but I’m no further forward, just fucked and fucked up. Stuck.
I know I am not alone in all that life chucks at us, and nor can I blame all this on the Tories, but what is for sure, there is not a single bad situation those bastards don’t do their best to make a whole lot worse and mock us into the bargain.
I’ve nothing good to say to end this, but that’s what’s going on, that’s how it is right now. I am glad I’ve at least let these words out, but I have no idea what I am going to do. I don’t know how to go forward any more.
Huge love, especially to anyone really struggling right now, I still care. It’s just me I am having a problem with.
KOG 28 December 2016.
