Allow me to introduce myself. (Edited)

Since writing this piece, I realised it was both rushed and full of holes, so have come back to edit it, and fill in a few gaps.
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I thought I would quickly write this, just as an introduction to me and my background. Following on from a fantastic, constructive conversation on Twitter recently, I thought it only fair that I show my true colours. So here goes.

I was born in Lewisham Hospital 14th Feb 1973, to a single mother. Becoming the youngest of 2 children. Growing up on Homecroft Road in Sydenham, it would be a lie to say things were rosy.
My father never played a part in my life, while knowing where we lived, and having the financial means to make life a lot easier, I believe it was his choice not to contribute. The separation and divorce was finalised prior to this anyway, so a live in dad was never on the cards. Choosing to spend his life with his new wife, and later on his son. Meeting him just the once that I recall, on a train heading into town, along with my sister. The destination was my nan's house. Again, I have very little recollection of the day, other than remembering I was not happy at all, it was not all I had ever dreamed of. Awkward and upsetting, and cemented my opinions of him. And also fixed in my mind that I would never do what he had done.

Mum did her best to provide for us, but with things like toasted burger buns with tomato ketchup as a meal, times were hard. On a good month, money would be squirrelled away, and a roast chicken would be the prise dinner of the month, on a Sunday of course. I would say all the trimmings, but a tin of carrots and a couple of potatoes was about all that went with it. We didn't starve, not for one second, but then free school dinners and milk etc were a real life line back then. I remember mum coming to see the teachers at school and telling them if I didn't want to eat, let me go hungry. I soon learned!
Obviously in the late 70's schools were quite strict, and there was no play time without eating something first. Needless to say I spent a lot of time in the dinner hall, and little time running about. Consequently I became the chubby kid in class. Asthma was diagnosed quite early on in one of my many trips to hospital and the doctors, and weight would blight me for years to come.

Other little gems during early years are below.

• Being knocked down by a car, getting small head and foot injuries at the age of 3. I escaped by running out the side gate to cross the road to show everyone my new plaster... Ended up with more than a plaster.
• Being hit by another car years later, getting up and running away telling the driver I was fine (I was)
• Numerous broken wrists through being a little boy, slipping on ice, falling off a bike. The last one I hid for 2 days because I didn't want my mum getting mad at me. Eventually the pain and swelling became too much.
• Punching my hand through a window, accidentally of course, as my sister shut the window to stop me getting in, I just didn't manage to stop in time.
• Snapping a pencil lead off in my thumb and having it dug out with a needle at the hospital.
• Oh, not forgetting having a ruptured testicle due to them twisting (just thought I would throw that one in there)

The list above is just what springs to mind at this precise moment, believe me there are plenty more little gems from those days. Needless to day, Sister Bell at Sydenham Childrens Hospital got to know me very well, to the point where she would fill out all my admission information without asking a question.

As hard as mum tried, there was always a balance to be found in anything we could do. Not being particularly outwardly social herself due to deafness, activities were based on this not being an issue, along with sporting a slipped disc, leaving her in considerable pain at times. But we always came first and she tried very hard to give us what we needed.

Occasionally when mum's back got really bad we would be looked after by social services. Sometimes in house, other times staying with families. Never for a long period that I recall, and living with another family for a few days wasn't so bad. At that age it felt like just some more friends. Then there was the live in care, can't say for one second that was a good time at all.One name springs to mind, Millie, and one smell, burning ironing. That's about my recollection of the misery of that, other than feeling very sad a lot of the time.


Television, toys, and fancy clothes were all just a dream. However with careful spending of the ILEA vouchers issued to get us school uniforms, sometimes there would be enough for some jeans to last the year. Bring a toy to school day at the end of term was always a little depressing, with all the other kids coming in with nice new toys just for that day, and me, well.... Occasionally I would have something, but as kids we shared, so I was never left out. All I can remember about those times is some weird helicopter game, where you changed the height to avoid obstacles and pick up magnetic objects. Don't ask me!!

Troubled at school for being the overweight, asthmatic, who wore old tatty clothes. Questioned if I was living with my nan, because mum looked older than the rest of the mums, having had me at 35. But as I grew older and stronger shall we say, I learned not to get too upset by the other kids comments, and made some great friends at primary school. Paul Jefferies, Joseph Ford, Simon Davies and Richard Frith were the lads I knocked about with when I could. Happy days had arrived.

None the less, looking back I had a positive childhood and learned much about the difference between need and want. Material objects have their place, but are no immediate priority.

When I reached 8 we moved to Forest Hill, where I still live today.
Moving here was a change of life, lots more kids, loads of influences, pressures and things to get involved in. As I reached my teens, staying out all night, running amok, getting known by the police, encouraging a chase from them, it was just the done thing. However I managed to stay out of trouble for most of the time.
Avoiding the temptations of cigarettes, drugs and alcohol, I was one of the few kids from my generation, in fact I am tempted to say the only one, who avoided all of them. The pressure was there, but my interest wasn't.
Growing up on the street I would have to say David Maloney was my best friend, spending a lot of our younger years kicking about together, sharing trips into London to wander around Hamleys and St Pauls. Getting a Red Bus Rover ticket and spending the day travelling around on buses, seeing the sights, having a little adventure. There is a funny story to tell regarding one of these trips, but I will allow David some dignity lol.

As we reached secondary school, I went off to Malory miles away, shunning the opportunity to have scholarships to a couple of private schools. Meanwhile most others went to the local Forest Hill Boys school. The upside to going to a school miles away was, along with the free school dinners I still received, I also now got a term time free bus pass, making those Red Bus Rover trips even cheaper. However I would be lying if I said secondary school was a fantastic adventure. Sure we had some great times, but with sports becoming harder and harder, with asthma and allergies causing all sorts of problems, the weight piled on, and obviously, being secondary school, the name calling started.

Now I was not bullied at school, that just isn't the case, but I was the butt of a fair few jokes, earning nicknames etc, which made bad days harder. None the less, when push came to shove I would always stand my ground, and stand for what I believed in. A quality which has stuck with me for life.
There isn't much more to say about school, other than pretty much a straight A student, always released from class detentions as I was seen as non disruptive, and felt like I got on well with most of the kids and teachers. Only ended up in the heads office the once, and that was thanks to Mario Cameron being wound up, and me ending up with a split lip.

Unfortunately, on reaching the year of my exams, I decided I knew better, started hanging around with some slightly older people, and ducked out of school a few months before my exams. So here I am now, not one academic qualification to my name.
That same year, I also decided it was a good time, now approaching a responsible age, to get arrested and charged with an offence. Court came and went, bed advice from a solicitor, so here I am today, with a criminal record. Albeit dissolved by the Rehabilitation of Offenders Act, but still present enough to affect my direction in life at times. My application to work in the Met stonewalled at the final leg by the record. The years after that are just a bit of a blur, with nothing amazing happening, other than getting my first job just before I turned 16, being made redundant by the time I was 16 and a half, and falling into the folds of Sainsburys, where I would remain for 6 years. Great times there.

As I grew older and watched the younger generation in my area making the same decisions, following the same paths as some of the more troublesome kids I grew up with, I made the effort to spend time with them, chatting with them on the same wall I grew up sitting out on til the small hours. Looking at most of them now, calmed down, families of their own, working hard, and making something of their lives, the small reward of time spent with them is great.

Reaching my twenties, the birth of my daughter was a wake up call, and also a very painful time in my life. From finally understanding what responsibility was, caring for someone so precious, through to having that ripped away from me, out of my control. From separation, through sharing custody , to losing all contact with my daughter, my twenties were a painful life lesson. Not something I would wish on anyone.

For the next however many years, I have always tried to do the right thing, from getting involved in the neighbourhood, helping people in need where chance arises. Caring for my mum in  her  4 year battle with cancer was tough for sure. From the first day of her saying she found the lump, but didn't want any treatment, through the appointments for diagnosis, treatments and surgery, all seemed necessary at the time, but took their toll. Only realising how bad a state I was in towards the end of her life.
Fighting severe depression for the last 18 months of mums life was a tough one. Trying to find the balance between a normal life, watching someone you know and are now living with slowly slip away from you. Never nice, and I have huge respect for all the people caring for loved ones in their families with life long or terminal conditions. No pity required, its just life really, but it's not been easy or uninvolved for sure.

I think if you checked the log of calls to 999 over the years, there will be dozens from me. Not just nosey neighbour stuff. Quite a few active involvements in the arrests of drunk drivers, one particular one being the sister of a well know violent family. After appearing in court, I was really not the favourite for quite some time.
Foot chase with a gun man, a 20 min conversation and eventual talk down of a self harming man intent on taking his life as he walked up my road. Thankfully most of his cuts were superficial. A number of serious RTA's, helping treat and calm casualties. When I look back I can honestly say one thing, I am not afraid to get involved when the opportunity arises. Never thinking twice about getting stuck in to whatever was needed in the moment.

I would like to think that as the years have gone by, any signs of my upbringing, and bitterness about coming from such a poor background, have dissolved away. Leaving behind a strong willed, open minded, straight talking, responsible adult man. Of course, this isn't obvious to all.

Hope this has been an interesting and informative read.

One final thought.
Its sadly ironic that the reason for writing this whole thing, opening up and spilling more info about me on the internet, is because of an exchange with someone who while they talk of the positive work they do to help better communities, and give people a chance, judges, calls names, and mocks someone they know nothing about. All because our opinions differ.

I have made this entry, as with all my other blogs over the years, to put information on me out there on the internet. Call it attention seeking, or an open book. Whatever you call it, finding information on me and my life online is not hard to do, and I am quite happy for people to do so for whatever purpose they see fit.
All I would ask is, if you don't have all the information to make a genuine balanced judgement on me, just ask. I have no secrets, but can't stand when people assume, make up stories, or just get carried away with what the reality of me really is.

In the blink of an eye...

I have blogged about this quite a lot over the years, but from time to time the urge to try and connect with my true feelings on the matter resurfaces, and eats away at me for a bit. Like now. For some reason, after watching the scene from a TV drama, the matter of death comes flooding back.

February is always a pretty dark month for me anyway, even with the sunshine on top, below the surface bubbles a little anxiety, and I guess a little sadness. For years it was about my daughter. How dare I celebrate a birthday without her in my life. Especially with hers being just a few short days before my own. But as the years have passed, the reasoning has changed, and possibly to more morbid reasoning.

Feb 13th 2008, my mum came to me and told me she thought she might have cancer. My birthday that year (the next day) was spent at the doctors, first getting her an appointment for that day, and then being there while the doctor examined her and confirmed she very much had breast cancer. And a long journey began.
With her 70th birthday just around the corner the appointments started, and a few days after her 70th we went the hospital where I was called in to the consult room and asked to reason with her by the specialist. Having examined her she had cancer in both breasts, and was refusing ANY treatment. By the time we left she was open to the idea.

After a long fight, and some true highs, on August 5th 2011 mum finally passed away. Sitting by her side, watching her breathing become laboured, before finally exhaling for the last time, it was quite a surreal moment to watch your only parent die before your eyes. Thankfully, it was a rare occasion that myself and my sister were with her, with no kids etc. So part of me feels she found peace in that moment, and chose it herself.
Medically the morphine inhibited her breathing, and her already weak body gave out. Either way, she went peacefully and with dignity, just as she would have wanted.

Mum's passing is probably one of the most profound for me, as you would expect, but the list of people I have lost in all manner of ways is just too long, and one that haunts me every time I recall who, how and when.

In fact the above is the reason I am writing this now, as another year ticks around for me, and I turn 42 now, I look back at the long list of friends who have not even made it this far in life. Ill health, accidents, and suicide, has taken some of my closest friends over the years, all my junior. I said many years ago, back in my twenties, that I would be dead before I was 40. However at that time I really don't think I had given the thought of death much real consideration. Greatly unaffected by it at that point, it was just brave to talk trash about death, but as the years have passed by, it means more.

Given it can come in so many ways, never knowing what the cause will be. So many lose their lives at the hands of others, through no fault of their own. Accidents on the UK motorways today are a great example of this.
Take a look at the statistics for a moment. In the last week of January this year, 12,900 people in the UK died. That's 1,842 people a day or 76 people an hour. More than one a minute.
Now of course yes a lot of these are natural causes, illness etc, but what difference does that make? Mum knew she was going for 3 years, but still left 2 kids, 5 grand kids and her sister all with a hole in their lives.

My point is, and its a very vague one, death is all around us, just around the corner, how many people in the UK alone have died in the time you have been reading this. How many families every hour begin the painful journey of letting someone go?

The age old question, are you scared of death? Well are you? I have thought about this over and over for years, and still can't make sense of my conclusions. Death itself is final, once its happened, its done with, for the deceased at least. Fear goes away, pain too, but for the families it is only just starting.
My feelings on it are maybe a little too rational for some to comprehend. In conversations I have had about it in the past, I have come out looking a little strange to say the least.
When I think about death, it makes me sad. I like being a part of peoples lives, I like making a difference, and creating memories with people. When I look back at people I have lost, its the memories which keep the person with us. The thought of that ending is sad for me. Just as it saddens me that I no longer have them in my life to enjoy their company and make more memories.
The cold harsh truth is though, we all move on. While we remember those we have lost, our lives continue and adapt. So to believe that our passing is anything but an event in our friends and loved ones lives, is to me at least, somewhat irrational.
That said, my take on death in general might not be what you would call the average or common perception.

The other part about dying which really sucks, is the future. The crazy and dynamic world we live in is constantly promising and making leaps forward, space travel, technology, health care etc. To think that at some point I will stop seeing these advances is one which actually saddens me deeply. Maybe its my techy geekiness that drives that emotion. Maybe its my detachment from others around me which makes me feel this way. Grasping for something to hold on to and be relevant to me.

So am I scared of death, and the event it is? Hard to say, I have never been close enough to know the answer to that. My rational is simple, I can't control it, I am not the master of my final act, and whatever lifes plan is for me, I have to suck it up. Its nice to imagine it will be painless, but not for me. More for those around me. I don't want a wake of sadness left behind me, and I guess that is one of the reasons I try to be so open about my thoughts and feelings. I can't say another word when I am gone, so would love to think that in my ramblings both verbally and written, that people can find the answers to their questions. Who I care about, love, and my feelings on all aspects of life.

I like to think I am an open book, I encourage those in my life to challenge me, question me, and discover all they want to know on a daily basis. One day, the final day will come, and I hope dearly that I leave no confusion or unanswered questions behind. Until that day, I will keep throwing my thoughts out there, and try and make sure I have it all covered.
I do have a project I really must complete one day, one I have spoken of before. It has had many names, but 'If tomorrow never comes' seems the most prudent.

A frank summary of all things truly meaningful to me. Feelings, memories etc, which I would want those involved in it to know, just to confirm they know, and will forever know how I feel about them and our time together.

So, that's my thoughts for this Valentine's Day 2015, and of course my birthday.

Live every day like your last. Tell people how you really feel about them, and don't try and find the right time for things... It might never come, then it will never happen. Most of all, smile, and enjoy the gift of life you have, and spend it with people you care about.

Thanks for reading, sorry for the downer.

PS, some stats for those interested. A full breakdown of the 491,348 deaths in England and Wales in 2009 (yup almost half a million people in one year)

http://image.guardian.co.uk/sys-files/Guardian/documents/2011/01/14/Mortality_England_and_Wales_2009.pdf

Playing the game.

We all do it right, because life is in reality just one big game. Goals, plans, and at the end of it all, winners and losers. How well you play each period of the game will of course determine if you have any silverware in the cabinet at the end of it all.

In all walks of life, regardless of which aspect, there is always something to gain. Some see the gains and rewards as trivial, others thrive to be the one coming out on top. But the truth is, those who want to win every time are in fact the biggest losers of the games.

Without the lows, there are no highs.  Without the loses, the pleasure of victory dwindles into normality, and what was once something to feel good about just feels like an ordinary day. And that is where it gets a little out of control. Like someone addicted to a high, each high has to be higher to maintain the feel good factor. Some people in life take the same approach to the game of life. As they tire of the normality of their victories over others, getting one over on people, or always being the one getting the cream, they up their game.

Unfortunately, all this means is, the losers they usually leave in their wake. Or should I say, those who were not victorious this time around, no on is a loser really, I digress..... Those not coming out on top each time just get trampled on more and more for the stampede of the selfish and glory grabbing, trying to reach higher and higher.

My personal take on all this is simple I guess (but I bet this turns long winded all the same!)
Victories are over rated. Thriving to achieve something which only makes you feel good is not only selfish, but also just a little bit lonely. Succeeding as a team, a group, a unit, makes any victory far greater. Everyone remembers it, everyone knows what the other did, and what was achieved. Rather than a quiet little hollow victory, with you woop wooping to yourself in your selfish little mind.
While I love a victory of any kind, given the hands I have been dealt in life over the years, I am happy for getting to the end of a day and waking the next morning.

My aim day to day in general is simple, live a full day, smile, make others smile, and end the day feeling ok about the day now behind me. If something amazing happens, fantastic. If not, hey ho, such is life, maybe tomorrow eh.

To all those with so many goals, wants and desires, who are willing to sacrifice the happiness of others around you. Take a long hard look at yourself, and ask yourself..... Is an entry in the hall of fame under "Biggest Wanker" really the legacy you thrive for? Or would you prefer to be the simple existence, but the one everyone cares about, respects, and misses whenever you are not there.

For me, I think quite selfishly I might actually achieve both. Two persona's calls for different goals in life, and im sure I already have the first of the two acolades. Now my goal is simple, be the real me, and be the latter of the two to the majority of people in my life.

Remember now... Dream BIG, tread carefully. You never know when you might need the help of those you consider below you.

Everybody dies....

Well I guess its true, sooner or later our time is up, and we leave behind everything we have grown to know and love. Leave them to cope without us, and for them to find a way to accept and deal with the fact that we have gone.
Recent months and years have seen me lose quite a few people, some extremely close to me, others have been more casual acquaintances, but ones that I still care about. The one thing that has always confused me is how in one breath I can lose someone dear to me, and be 'ok' with it, and then someone else will go, and suddenly its much harder to deal with.
Today, on hearing the news that Darren had passed I was left stunned, shocked, and pretty upset at the news. Even though I have not seen him for a couple of years, it got to me deep inside. Then finally the penny dropped.
I was having a conversation on BBM when I had an epiphany. I have always accepted that death is a certain part of the cycle of life. And as much as it pains me to let people go, its makes sense that we have to eventually. But during the conversation today I said something that is the key to it all. Its HOW I lose someone, not so much who has been lost and how close they were to me.
Knowing mum was ill, knowing Graeme was ill, it all was pre thought out, their time was short, and sooner or later their light would go out. There was time for goodbyes, time to finish off business with them. Most importantly there was time to accept that it would soon be over, and as my counsellor once suggested, we almost grieve in advance. Grieve is a complex word really, the same meaning to all, but a totally different process for many of us. My way of grieving is to remember, reflect, and let go. As little sadness as possible, remembering positives, and continuing the way I know that person would want their memory to be carried. With pride and courage.
For others, their passings have been so sudden, violent in a couple of senses, and so unexpected, that it knocks you for six, and leaves you bewildered. So much unsaid, so many dreams unfulfilled, and so many people left with an open page, yet nothing left to complete it with. When John passed we had spoken recently, and I felt that we had lived through so much, and said so much in that last conversation, that we left no unfinished business. That was easy for me to say, but many others I know did not have that blessing.
In Darrens case, time has gifted me with distance, and separation from certain things. Namely the day to day life events that were current to Darren and his family/loved ones. That's not to say that I do not feel a great sense of loss. For years now, our occasional encounters would always bring laughter and joy to me. An evening with Darren and Tony was always on a knifes edge, and full of uncertainty. But that's who Darren was. A joker, a playful guy, but someone who was passionate about others. He had his flaws, hell we all do, but for the most part you could forget that, and just have a laugh.
Now reflecting on others who have passed in recent times, it all makes sense, a pattern appears and I can start to see what my course is for dealing with these losses. I actually lose track at times of how many people in what time frame I have lost. But one thing I never forget is, I am not the only one feeling empty, lost and sad. These people who leave us leave behind a whole group of family, friends, and casual contacts. And as each one who passes seems so damn special, they leave many many people with the sense of loss.
Its a strange thought I know, and I am not competing for a second. I'm sure we have all done it, but I find myself wondering if I am blessed enough to have the same impact on my friends. I wish and hope that we will never find the answer to that question, but its one of the strange things, amongst many, that goes through my head.
Speaking of me and strange, this is another thing that I find eats away at me. Knowing information, the anatomy of the event, how, why, what and where. I feel I need to know every detail before I can let something go properly. Illness is simple to accept, and with mum I was there at the moment she passed. No questions, and I think my exposure to the whole journey to the very end helped me cope. Cope in a way some still find quite strange. No true grief, just a little confusion.
But with accidents, Kevin, John Weston, John Littlebury, Adam King and so on, including Darren, its different. I always pray there was no suffering, that it was quick. With a positive thought still in mind at the moment the light went out. No panic or fear, no pain or distress. Not knowing this drives me crazy, but its obviously strange and unethical to even try and know for sure.
When Adam died, the first person I knew who was suddenly gone, it was as a pedestrian vs car. Sadly for me my best friend at the time was the son of the coroner, and was telling me a story of the boy his father had dealt with that day. The way the boy was struck by a car, and left unable to move due to injured legs. Able to push himself up on his hands he was able to raise himself and look up, just in time for the second car to strike him in the face and head.....
So as you can see, left with memories like that, I find it hard to put something down without knowing that they didn't suffer. Its true that we really are programmed by previous experiences in our lives. Sorry if the above causes distress. But that's what I live with day to day.
As I veer back on track, it all starts to make more sense to me now.
I have spent the whole afternoon trying to make sense of things, and come to terms with the fact that yet another person from my past has left us. To try not to get too emotional about it, and to instead think of those who have today lost someone far closer to them than I have. For those people I bow my head, and I hope deeply for you to be able to cope with this in the best possible way you can find.
Darren was about strength, and always carried a big smile on his face, and imprinted that on others wherever he went. Today I for one, and I hope others can do the same, want to remember Darren for the man he was, and make him proud by carrying my head high. Looking to the skies with the same smile he imprinted on me, and adding his memory to the others I carry with me daily. I take pride that I knew you Darren, and thank you for the friendship you shared with me and so many others. I no longer feel empty, as the physical hole you leave behind has now been filled with so many great memories.
Thank you Darren for the memories you gave us all, the kindness you offered, and the memories you leave us with. I will miss you for an eternity, but never will I forget you.
R.I.P Darren Green, who's light was extinguished on 28th Feb 2012.
Love you brother.
X
Sent using BlackBerry®

What the hell is going on!

First up, what is the chances of 50% of the workers in an office losing a parent in 3 months. Further to that, the number increases even further if you up the time scale to a year. 4 people out of the 6 in my office have had a parent pass in the last 12 months! Its a crazy number, and one that really defines mortality to you.
To go hand in hand with that, in the past 16 months I have lost my oldest friend, one of my closest friends, my mother, and a close friends father who I knew very well. On top of that there is another friend who also passed shortly before that. Not a good year for a personal death toll then (pardon the phrase)
I can only hope that the person I am about to talk about doesn't add themselves to that toll any time soon.

So, my Aunty Joan, who is currently receiving treatment for breast and bone cancer, but fighting like a trooper, just like my mum did. Her health for her age is amazing, let alone for someone who has cancer in such awkward places. It would be lovely if she can just keep hanging on in there forever more, but the reality of it is far more gloomy. So why do I speak of her, well that's simple, I'm going to see her tomorrow.
Its been a while since I have seen her, quite a long time in fact. I have not seen her since the weekend of mums funeral which was back in mid August, so I am long overdue a visit. To add to this I am taking advantage of the half term holidays and taking my niece and nephew to meet Joan too. The last time either of them was in Wales was when they were babies, and far too young to have met Joan properly, so no time like the present eh.
The plan is somewhat up in the air at the moment. Where I would love to spend the whole weekend with them there, and take my time showing them the sights, and taking them on a trip down mums memory lane, I'm not sure how far the money will stretch for accommodation etc, so we shall have to see.

I did have a master plan in place, but at the moment it all seems to have gone a little arse up, so its going to be an 'as it happens' weekend. A few sights, some photography and education for Katie, a little fun and games if the weather holds out, and bonding with them of course, which apparently I have not done enough of. Fingers crossed I can make the most of it.

The success of the weekend will of course depend on if I get my voice back in time to shout and scream at the kids, scream at other roads users, and not forgetting actually conversing with my Aunt. Without my voice I am going to feel a little useless. In all seriousness I want to be able to show them the sights, and tell them some stories, not just pull up, point, smile and move on. Talking to my aunt is also very important to me, and I also like to talk to her carer too, to get a clear picture of her health and her well being. Little things like appetite, activity level and interests are all important to know, so I can make my own judgement on her outlook so to speak.

The losing of my voice is the final insult to a week of having a cold, then a chesty cough, and now coughing so much I have manager to lose my voice. Less phonecalls for me at work I guess, that's one advantage lol. However for day to day things its causing me hell, especially for making phone calls to creditors etc. Speaking of which, reminds me of something else. My to do list. Written up a few days ago, with anything and everything I have to do, from reporting repairs, right through to sorting finance. If I say so myself I have managed a large number of the things from the list. Trivial things like cleaning, and huge thing like sorting money matters out have all been taken care of so far. Just a few more things to get out of the way, hopefully I will have this sorted by the end of the weekend.

On another note.... My god I have put weight on! Huge amounts over the past couple of months. Stress and poor health have not helped, but the truth is I have become a lazy fat knacker too. A habit I need to get out of soon, and get my weight and lifestyle back on track. Morning walks with the dogs have suffered, eating habits are stupid at the moment, and clothes sizes are rising, but still within tolerances. So that's next on my to do list.

And another note, my scan. I have heard nothing back from the doctor, not sure if I actually will on something like this. Maybe I am meant to go to see him, I really should call up and see what the score is on that count, and see if they decided it was anything noticeable or just me being a whiner.

Right that's me done for now.
As a foot note I want to say that my thoughts are with Steve Warwick and his family now after the passing of his father last night. Its a tough time for them all I'm sure, and I just want them to know I am here if I can help with anything.
And also to the Pirrie/Somers family. With David having his bone marrow transplant yesterday, the next week or so are very important, so here's to hoping that everything that is needed to be seen happens, and that he is on the mend very soon. Respect to his brother for making the donation.

Feeling better, feeling positive.... But watch out !

The last thing from me really was me moaning about being ill, feeling tired and saying I had glandular fever, prognosis was wide open.
I am glad to say that over the past couple of weeks, determination, hard work, and not giving in has paid off. I am rising above it, with very little effects of it left now. Very little discomfort except for the pain in my lower left abdomen which still loiters. Tiredness during the morning and daytime has improved no end, it is only the end part of the day now that leaves me lacking energy and enthusiasm.

With regards to work, I think it is fair to say that since my return, my attendance has been faultless, however there are other aspects of that which I will come back to in a bit. Not missed a day, and I truly think that it has (as expected) played a significant role in my recovery from both the illness, and moving on from mums passing. So I am glad that the issues I faced at work were overcome on my return, and things have been put back to normal. Again I will come back to this part soon. Main thing to me is, I'm back to being Michael Snasdell again, and not some messed up empty shell of a man who is struggling by day to day.

That might sound a little harsh, but the further I move away from the event horizon of mum passing, and me returning to work after so long, the more I realise how messed up things were getting for me. I lost my identity, direction and drive in life, and just hung in there for the sake of others, which is not healthy for anyone I have to say. And if you are in this situation, I would strongly recommend asking how others are perceiving you and your state of health and mind. Many commented on me, and I listened to...... none!

However.... moving on. We are in a different place these days, so lets be positive here and look forwards and not back. I'm making a comeback here, and am determined to make things different this time around. Almost like an alcoholic getting sober. This is me getting sober so to speak.

So, lets backtrack a little shall we, and cover off a few areas that I have previously touched on in this entry. Firstly, the fiery return to work. It wasn't so much about slipping back into my role, but more about being dragged through a bush backwards and baring my heart and soul to prove I deserved to keep my role in the company. I should add, so there is no hard feeling, that none of this was brought on by management so to speak, obviously they play a role in the matter, but the rest was instigated by 'others' who felt differently about what I deserved. Going to extraordinary lengths to make life hard for me. Screen prints of Facebook, photos of Blackberry Messenger status's all used in an attempt to prove me dishonest, and unworthy. Well...... it didn't work, so quite frankly bollox to you, and f**k you for trying that.

However, there is a little twist. It would appear that the infighting didn't end there, and there is now another issue within the machine. Timekeeping!
Now having finally received the summaries and official closure of my own disciplinary, it is truly refreshing to know that I am in NO WAY involved in the current issues here. I know from my own opinion, and from speaking with my manager that there is NO issue with my timekeeping or recording of my activities at work. I swipe in, swipe out, complete timecards honestly, and record what I do daily.
Sadly the same cannot be said for all. With some taking breaks without recording them, slipping in late and claiming they were on time, or failing to work their scheduled hours, but claiming a later finish time than actual. The dumb part about all this is that there is comprehensive CCTV here, remotely monitored and reported on, a swipe system which records people in and out of the building, although it is obvious that some have decided to bypass this by using unauthorised access points to avoid being seen leaving and entering, as well as trying not to leave a record.
Once again, sadly due to 'persons' constantly discussing other staff members with their management, a storm is coming.

I guess I'm saying too much really, so should be careful, but at the end of the day, a line has been drawn in the sand, and a warning shot has been fired over EVERYONES head. So anyone one not seeing their part in this, and not realising their wrong doing deserves everything coming to them. Its either ignorance or arrogance, more likely arrogance if I'm honest, but we shall see. 3 days after the warning shot was fired, nothing seems to have changed for some... And that's REALLY all I'm saying on it now, other than 'watch this space'.

Phew I am really going on today, but it feels like a massive release I have to say. Things building up inside of me, annoying me, winding me up, and in the latter case, amusing me somewhat.

OK, I will leave it there for now or I might wear this keyboard out. So I will end with, with everything happening around me, the motivation within me to achieve, and the new lease of life... I'm finally enjoying looking forwards to what lays ahead. A smoother road for me for now, and possibly a pretty rough one for others.

Watch your back people.... instead of mine for once ;)