Toujours en bourg.

More decorations in town in preparation for the Tour de France Femmes, due 26 Juillet.

En bourg.

A few shots whilst out & about this morning.

Shop fronts are always decorated when the Tour de France comes to town.

Oignons.

 Of all the places to find New Zealand onions. France.

 

Tour de France Femmes.

 

Shot of the Tour de France Femmes yellow jersey hanging in town. Counting down to their arrival on the 26th of July.

Not finished yet...

Le Tour de France à Plumelec.

A voté!

 I didn't actually vote at the Mairie comme d'habitude but at the salle communal. Regional & Departmental elections.

Out & about.

RIP Albert Uderzo

RIP Albert Uderzo

Growing old gracefully.

Having turned 50 last October I have a new perspective on life. Suddenly I find myself staring down the barrel of my own mortality. It's rather a strange feeling to be honest. Funnily enough, growing old is rather exciting. That sounds weird doesn't it?

I've lived through some hellish years over the last decade or so. Any of my Twitter readers who happen upon this post will know exactly where I'm coming from. Anyway, I truly believe that I can now make the most of my remaining years and win back some of those lost years. Whether that involves me moving back to New Zealand, or staying here in Brittany, France remains to be seen.

I have plenty of goals and things that I want to do and achieve, although I have yet to sit down and brainstorm them all and get them down on paper. Unfortunately my current financial woes (see previous post) limit many of the things that I want to do. But there are so many free things that you can do I hear you say. Of course, but even having enough money to put petrol in my car is an issue if, for example, I want to go to La Voie Verte for a spot of bike riding. Never mind, going for walks and rides enable me to discover more about my region. I'm trying to remain positive and search regularly for the light at the end of the tunnel, hoping that it will come in to view soon.

Thankfully I like my own company. I currently have no desire to find another partner. I'm damaged goods, so who would want me anyway? You often hear about elderly people being lonely. Of course I'm not elderly. Far from it, but there is just an inkling of self doubt there. Thankfully I'm able to see my son whenever I want, and get on relatively well with my ex-wife (depends very much upon which way the wind's blowing), so I'm not totally alone. I also get to have a chat with my students and get out and about doing my publicity delivery rounds for a day and a half every week. I've also been trying to find a Dungeons and Dragons group to join. I haven't played since I was a teenager, and very little at that. It's something that I've always wanted to do and thought that it would help me meet some new people whilst doing something that I enjoy. No replies to my ads yet though.

Anyway, this old bugger had better pick up his creaky bones, cook me some eggs (couscous actually), and head off to work before it starts pissing down.

Ciao.

Mise à jour.

It's been a while, and this post risks taking a while to write. You never know.

The old brain seems to be going OK, although there are several issues beyond my control that risk setting me back quite considerably. In fact I experienced just that yesterday; I was really down. I need to find a way to fight it before I backslide to the horrible times of several years ago.

Of course the primary concern is my finances. They are beyond dire and I see no light at the end of the tunnel. In fact there has been a rockfall and the tunnel is completely blocked. I have taken on two part-time jobs which enable me to earn some money while not surpassing the allowed earnings limit set by my invalidity allowance. Unfortunately I have to wait six weeks before getting my first pay packet. That leaves me with absolutely, and I mean absolutely, nothing until the beginning of March. I'm scared shitless to be honest. I have no money for petrol in order to be able to get to work. No pay, no petrol FFS.

I'll never be rich. I'll never live the Kiwi dream and own my own house. I'll have the bare minimum pension unless something changes right now which will enable me to get out of this mess and be able to actually save some money. I'm in a hole, seemingly with no way out. One step forward and more than two steps back. I don't know what to do. Alone. Bitter.

I have received another letter from my social worker asking that I be eligable for the food bank for another 3 months. I am very grateful but it is very embarassing to be honest. Unfortunately most of the food, tinned and packet, are well past their use-by date and good only for the bin. The three tins of green beans I received last time had use-by dates in 2017, the cassoulet 2018, ham 6 months ago and so on. I had to bin the majority of the food.

I still have a lot to offer this world, but all of my efforts and energy are going on trying to survive day-to-day. I need a break. A big break and I need it now. 

I'm not sure that I'll post this. It sounds like I'm having a good winge, but it really is the truth of the matter. Maybe the phone will ring with good news today. I live in hope.

Mixed up...

Shit loads to talk about. Brain not working. Can't even get through an entire film without having to stop & do something else. Have managed to cook & clean myself though. A bientôt.

PTSD.

My PTSD has been rearing its ugly head quite a bit recently. It's pretty much been full on for the last week or so.I'm very susceptible to triggers, whether it be a song, a newspaper article, a place that I drive past or something I see on TV or hear on the radio. For example, I am simply unable to listen to Another One Bites the Dust by Queen, ERA or Pirates of the Caribbean soundtracks, all of which were some of my boy's favourite sounds. We played ERA for him in his hospital room. He used to go to sleep to this every night for years.

This is really hard to write about.

I've recently stumbled upon several articles about meningitis. The very appearance of that word is horrible.

These triggers make me think about the night before N was taken to hospital. We didn't know he was sick at the time, but with the benefit of hindsight it's obvious. He was simply incapable of doing his maths homework. I actually got quite angry with him, said something that I will regret for the rest of my days and left the room. I later put him to bed, and as he had always had difficulty getting to sleep, stayed with him for our nightly cuddle. When I got up to leave he said that I could stay and that he'd make more space for me. I didn't stay... I'm balling my eyes out here. Need a break.

Of course I relive these moments constantly. I relive getting the phone call from my wife telling me to come immediately. My first sighting of N in the hospital as his bed was wheeled past us on the way to the ambulance to be transfered to Rennes. His final words and him telling us that it hurt. The hours and hours we spent in his room talking to him, helping to try and get his temperature down, trying to get him to do 'pee pee'. His heart failure and the cries from one of the Doctors for help. Being ushered away from his room and waiting for the inevitable. Haunted. I'm haunted by these day after day, year after year. They simply have not become any easier to deal with, you just get used to them. These memories sit with me always, sometimes more vividly than others. They will be with me until my dying day. They are ruining my life; have ruined my life.

I had so much more to say, but this has been incredibly hard to write.  I'm going to stop now. Incredibly sad. Je t'aime Son. To the moon and back...

Full speed ahead.

Despite being dangerous, one of the upsides of being bipolar is the mania. That may sound odd, but as far as I'm concerned it's true. The feeling of invincibility. The absolute joy in everything you do, & the absolute pleasure in doing them.

I've been in a manic phase for about a week now & am buzzing. I've been cooking, cleaning, watching, playing, riding & reading all at a rate of knots & loving every minute of it. Thankfully it's the summer holidays as I'm not sleeping a helluva lot. It's currently 2am & I've only had an hours sleep so far.

There are, of course, the downsides. Coming down from a high can be a right bugger & I need to be very aware of a sudden change in mood. Thankfully my medication seems to be controlling the crashes & they are nowhere as bad as they used to be a couple of years ago. Thankfully the meds don't stop the highs (I imagine that they should). Something that is very dangerous for me is my online spending. When on a high I tend to make use of my good friends Amazon, eBay & PayPal. It's not unknown for me to buy stuff from Amazon & then return them for a refund a couple of days after receiving them. I have heard that Amazon is going to crack down on serial returners; a good thing.

As you may well know, I have chronic Peter Pan syndrome. I'm not sure if a man of my age can be an absolute tragic Harry Potter fan, have a collection of STAR WARS figurines, play Disney Infinity & Harry Potter Lego on Xbox One, & have a framed picture of a Harry Potter Lego figurine on my wall. These things contribute to my spending habit. When on a high I'll get excited about purchasing something; often at night after climbing into bed. The excitement & anticipation is like a drug. It is an addiction after all. The funny thing is that I'll also spend if I ever feel down, my justification being that I think I'll feel better if I just buy that figurine, BluRay or gadget.

Stephen Fry, who is bipolar, put out a film called The Secret Life of a Manic Depressive. It is well worth watching if you want to learn a little more about Bipolar Disorder & mania. Fry spends too; his weakness Apple computers & goodies. The film is available on YouTube.

So, that's me at the moment. Buzzing & loving it. Voila.

Hot, damn hot!

Time.

So much to write about, so much time, so little motivation. Conundrum. I'll be back.

Noël up here.

So, it's the silly season and I am determined to make the most of Christmas this year. It's always tough for our little family at this time of the year as our big boy loved Christmas. Something that I feel is important is that he died still believing in Santa.That, I think, is special. He was just like his old man who still holds a magical place in his heart for Père Noel. Even his Bro still likes the little traditions like leaving out cookies & milk (or a whisky if I can get away with it). I used to make footprints in flour or icing sugar, and just last year he asked for me to do just that.We're keeping the magic alive.

Something that is really important for us at this time of the year, is sticking together as a family. We may well be divorced but my ex-wife and I make sure that we spend Christmas Eve (and the traditional meal here en France) together, as well as Christmas Day morning for the pressies, and lunch. Then she and our son head off to her family get-together and I head home for some quality time alone. I have scored a selection of Christmas movies, from The Muppets to two versions of A Christmas Carol, so will be well set up for my afternoon and evening. I've been ringing around trying to find a New Zealand leg of lamb for my own Christmas dinner. I phoned five supermarkets this morning with no luck. This is rather strange as there are normally plenty around. No worries: my mate's Beef Wellington will be even better.I shall keep trying or resort to a raclette or fondu: gotta make the most of it before restarting my diet again in the New Year.

So, my bachelor pad tree is up and looking good, presents bought and ready to be wrapped, Vin Chaud simmering, Christmas movies are on the shelf and menu planning is underway. I may well indulge in one of my bottles of Chateâu Margaux.  Let the fun begin.

Paper trails.

I'm slacking a bit at school. This is not good, but I get absolutely overwhelmed by all of the administration and paper trails that we teachers here have to keep. I filled out forms in triplicate today just to use the men's room. Damn inconvenient one might add,especially when I had to get them signed by three independent members of the staff before aforementioned utilisation. This resulted in my most impressive action of the day. 

He ra ano ki tua. There is another day to come.

Meltdown.

I had a meltdown on Wednesday night. At the time I wanted to top myself. This, as you can image, was a horrible experience. Obviously it is not something that I'd like to repeat. The feeling passed reasonably quickly, but not before I had contatced my Sister and posted on Twitter. I now wish that I had done neither, but in their own ways they probably helped me work through the feelings.

Now, however, I am extremely whakama (embarrased) to go back on Twitter. I told myself that I'd take a break, but managed only 12 hours. The little interactions that I have with people on Twitter help me get through my days; manic, lonely, depressed, overcome with grief, happy as...All manner of moods (thank you Bipolar). I appreciate them more than I can say.

As for my Sis, I should never have contacted her. I have no right to make her deal with my problems when she is so far away. So much for me being the big brother and being strong. Sorry Sis, from the bottom of my heart.

So, why did I have these feelings? Well, I've been dealing with my PTSD a lot recently. I am reliving the time spent at the hospital watching our son slowly slip away. I experience this during the day, often at work too, and then have very vivid dreams during the night. I hate to imagine what ex-soldiers have to go through.

The fact that it was la toussaint yesterday didn't help. I thoroughly dislike this day and yet felt absolutely terrible that I had not done anything at our son't grave. I can't bring myself to visit at the moment, but the guilt is a physical ache. I'm even having a wee cry as I write this.

So, all of these thoughts and feelings came together at the same time making me think and feel that enough was enough. I'm tired of all of the problems that define my life. I'm turning 50 next year and find myself making no progress or climbing out of the financial hole that I'm in. I have experienced so many terrible things over the last 10 years, some self-inflicted, and it's time that I got a break. The fact that I have a teaching job through until 31 August 2019 is a godsend. It gets me out and about, helps with routines, enables me to interact with my colleagues and most importantly with the children. I love it (even if I'm shit at planning and keeping up with my paperwork). I am thankful.

I am also thankful to my little Sis as well as so many of you on Twitter who 'came to my rescue'. I remain whakama, but am working through it. Merci.

Mal de tête

I'm finding it really hard at the moment. The job situation is really getting me down, and the bank is knocking at my door. Brittany has always been a tough region in which to find a job, and I am experiencing that right now. The strings to my bow are worthless here. My teaching experience counts for bugger all now that the state are pumping out English teachers who are passing the joke that is the CAER! Run by French people who profess to be masters of the English language; laughable. You should here them speak. I couldn't bloody well understand them. Bastardised English especially for the French. No wonder they are piss poor!

So, I'm feeling decidedly down and pissed off with the world in general. I need a boost and that will come in the form of my sister and her man being here en France. They will be here tonight and I simply can't wait.

Hopefully I'll be able to carry over the energy that her visit will give me and do some serious job hunting (door knocking) next week. Please wish me luck;  I'll need it.