The Boy Who Lived

As anybody who has read my blog knows, if anybody actually does read my blog, I am a huge Harry Potter fan. I simply can't get enough. At my age, this probably doesn't seem right, but I've always had somewhat obsessive sci fi/fantasy likings. 

It all started with STAR WARS way back when it first came out in 1977. I remember that day very clearly. We never had money for STAR WARS toys so I lovingly cut out pictures from Mum's Woman's Weekly. The love of this universe hasn't faded one bit.

Then there was Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, and the Belgariad and Mallorean series by David Eddings. Again, I still love these books (and films) and re-read them regularly.

So now it's Harry Potter; The Boy Who Lived. As I said, I just can't get enough. I re-read the books regularly (admittedly not that much since our son died though), and listen to the audio books read by Stephen Fry. I basically have these playing non stop; on the home cinema, on my tablet, on my phone, in the car...

Now this obsession may seem odd for a bloke of my age, but I can honestly say that this universe has kept me sane (arguably). Even more honestly I can say that the audio books have probably saved me from major depressive episodes, and more to the point, saved my life. I have to say that Stephen Fry's voice calms me down no end and he lulls me to sleep every night. Maybe there's something about the fact that he is Bipolar too that helps. I'm almost afraid to stop playing these books. It'd be a major step.

For the moment I'm happy with this obsession. Harry Potter is part of me. Immature some may say. Frankly, I couldn't care less it. It works for me.

A guts full!

I've had a guts full! I'm fucked off with the world! Enough is enough. I've suffered enough.

I've been tipped over the edge after having a car accident this morning on my first day of work delivering papers. A hole in the ground about a metre and a half deep. Road works going on and barriers left open and no cones or markers. It was 5.15am, dark and pissing down & I drove right in to it. My car was balanced on the edge like you see in the movies.

Anyway, I'll find out in a week whether my car is fixable or not. Meanwhile, I can't work. This is a major stress as I already have no money and will have to pay insurance excess etc.

Now, it's not just my car crash that's pissing me off. I have, or have had, so many things to deal with: The sudden death of our 8 year old son from meningitis, a bipolar and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder diagnosis, a divorce (allbeit amicable), severe financial woes, no luck finding a job, homesickness and now this. Surely I've had my fair share of shit! Gimme a break world. Just once. I can't cope with any more. Please.

Night Owl.

Hello all. It's the middle of the night, and surprise, surprise, I'm wide awake. This is normal these days. I sleep for a couple of hours then spend a couple of hours awake. I've tried everything short of medication, which I will avoid like the plague. I know that using devices doesn't help one get back to sleep, and I always wait for half an hour or so after waking up before picking one up. Then, it's so easy to pop on to social media or read the news. The fact that the Kiwis and Aussies are enjoying their days doesn't make it any easier to put down the gadget. There's always someone available for a quick chat.

Nonetheless, I love the time that I am awake during the night. It's so calm and open to all manner of adventures. Trying hard to not make noise so that the weird downstairs neighbours have no reason to confront me with their weirdness. I'm not sure if they can hear my desk chair squeaking and rolling over the floor. Better safe than sorry.

Now eating during the night is probably a no no, but I'm invariably bloody hungry! It's so easy to snack, but I try as hard as possible not to eat and to respect my diet plan.

A bonus is that it's an ideal time to phone Mum and Dad and catch them during their day, without interupting them waking up in the morning, or watching the The Chase, the news or Coronation Street in the evenings. Always good for a yarn in the middle of the night.

So, it's now 1am and I've been awake for an hour and a half. It remains to be seen what time I'll be able to snatch a few more hours sleep. I'm trying to lull myself back to sleep by listening to my Harry Potter audio books read by Stephen Fry. There's something about his dulcet tones that calms me right down and buoys the spirits.

I have a couple of middle-of-the-night friendly chores that I can do; cleaning the bath and wiping down the kitchen are two of them. Best that I keep busy so as not to overload my poor brain by over-thinking.

So, night night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite...

Delete...

To be honest, I see no point in continuing this blog. I don't get any comments so what's the bloody point. I keep a written diary to record my thoughts and feelings so have all but decided to discontinue writing here. I'll leave it up for a few more days just in-case , then I'm going to take it down. Voila.

MANIA!

I have most definitely been experiencing a manic episode over the last few days. I just can't find enough things to do. I've been waking up between 1 and 3 am every night and even found myself mopping the floor at 3am this morning. 

Now anyone who is bipolar will know that these manic episodes can be bloody good or bloody bad. The worst that has happened to me is excessive spending and excessive drinking, often combined; not good. For a self-confessed materialist, my friends Amazon and eBay quickly turn in to my worst enemies when 'high'. I'm alright now as I'm able to identify and control my mania and avoid online shopping and a fridge full of IPAs.

I've been making lists of things to do, planning my day the night before. I've been finding myself finishing all of my jobs and searching for new things to do. I've started walking again, heading out at about 7am each day. This I am thoroughly enjoying and plan to get in to some serious tramping throughout France once I come in to some dosh.

I've also been working on my TEFL course and am managing a couple of hours a day; pretty bloody good for this old fella.

Mania means a spick and span bachelor pad. The place smells like the local chippie as I've gone all eco and have been cleaning with white vinegar. I even cleaned the oven! A miracle!

I've been telling myself that I'll watch a film, series, rugby or NFL match once I've finished all the jobs on my list, but my mind is going so fast that I can't settle down and follow the storyline.

So long may the mania last. I'm loving it and the alternative sucks big time. I do not want to crash.

Hunchback.

I fractured my scapula two years ago after falling down the stairs. Don't ask. Something strange has happened since though. I find that I favour that shoulder, which I suppose is normal, but favour it at certain times.

Whenever I'm stressed or nervous, the shoulder hunches up as if I'm trying to protect not only it, but myself.

I've always felt lesser than others. My self confidence has dimished over the years; I was at my prime while teaching in New Zealand. Funnily enough I find it difficult to stand square on with people while talking to them, and now my shoulder will automatically hunch up and I need to consciously make an effort to 'un-hunch' it and turn square on to people. I'm working on my self confidence, but don't interact with a helluva lot of people these days (my own choice).

So, un-unhunched and square on; new objectives. Voila.

Alone or lonely...or both?

I suppose that there's a fine line between being lonely and liking your own company more than that of others. From personal experience, it's possible to be lonely even when surrounded by people. For me this has often been the case here in France. Somewhere I've always been lonely without my family and friends from New Zealand, even though being surrounded by a wonderful French family; that of my ex wife. F, my ex, never really grasped the concept that being lonely did not mean not assimilating into the French way of life (that's another story). 

I've been living alone since 2015, and despite going through some really tough patches, often self inflicted, I've really loved being by myself. Somehow it has helped me heal myself. I suppose that I haven't been able to hurt anybody either. I enjoy my own company; a cup of Yorkshire tea, cricket on the radio and/or a good book, or a beer and a game of rugby on the télé, time spent in the kitchen or looking after my houseplants (many of which were killed by my ex when I was last in New Zealand...shhh). It's only now, after 8 years of unbearable pain (it never goes away to be honest), that I'm starting to want to meet people. Outside of my French family I've never had a French mate. The odd cousin who I enjoyed having a beer with, but no soul mate. So, I'm trying to find something, outside of these 4 bachelor pad walls, that will get me out and about and meeting new people. Not a love interest; meeting a new woman is definetely not on the agenda. I'd prefer remaining a hermit.

Voila. That's all.