Talking About Wanting To Die Shouldn’t Be Taboo

I'm sat here with tears drying on my cheeks, still hot on my skin, after hearing of the passing of Linkin Park frontman, Chester Bennington. It's being reported that he died by suicide, after being found hanged in America at the age of just 41. He leaves behind six children and his wife, and I can only imagine the heartache they must be feeling right now.

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The Homeless Phonebox

It started out with a phonebox, stoic and red. A homeless man lay beside, with a floor for a bed.

Communication is lost in the ones we walk past, just like the phone box, every end has a start.
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We’re All Two-Faced

Everyone has this projection, this mask, this barrier that protects them from the world outside of their comfort zone. Beyond the reach or scope of others whose walls are a lot thinner, the people who peek over the parapet and extend an outstretched hand into the void often do so at great strain. Read More

The Conversation

The observatory loomed high above me, at the crest of the hill in the distance. I could feel the surge of negativity sucking away at the hope in my breath, and with each fresh glance towards the tangible, milky hue of the dome, the panic and fear rose to greet me. The cast iron bars that surrounded the park gave me brief periods of intermittent relief by obscuring my view every few steps but I was kicking myself for suggesting going to this place. Yet, how could I have known that in this moment, walking past a park I’d walked past a thousand times before, a park where I’d shared wonderful memories with friends and family, a park that was part of my upbringing; how could I know that my life was about to change forever? And I really hate clichés but I can’t explain it any other way. One conversation, no, one name, dragged me into my past with a fervour and penchant for rack and ruin. Read More

Happy Father’s Day – 18/06/2017

Dad,

What is left for me to say, that I haven’t uttered every other Father’s Day?

You didn’t want presents or cards or gifts, you just wanted to spend time with your big kid.

25 years you’ve been there for me, through the good times, the sad times and those in between.

Remember when you choke slammed me onto the chair? And I got straight back up and said: “Again again!”.

A better role model is impossible to find, although The Rock and Stone Cold are not far behind.

I’ve never wanted for nothing but always asked for more, and not once have you threatened to show me the door.

You’ve driven thousands of miles to pick me up over the years, you’ve cradled me close when I’ve been racked with tears.

You give me safety, security and a roof over my head, you even sacrificed the big bedroom so I could have a double bed.

You’ve carried on sharing Nan’s loving ways, proving that any time is cuddle time, each and every day.

You’ve given everything you have to give me the best, so today at least, take a well-deserved rest.

Put your feet up, relax, crack open the beers, I’ll cook the dinner and we can celebrate with cheers.

As your son, it’s my privilege to wish you today, the best, most special Happy Father’s Day.

I love you Dad ❤

YouTube Channel & Blog Birthday and Getting Fit (again!)

Today is the 3rd birthday of my blog and the first birthday of my YouTube channel! I can’t quite believe that I’ve hit these milestones respectively, so I thought it appropriate to mark the occasion with a blog post and a YouTube video! Furthermore, I’ve decided that today is the day (THE DAY) I decide yet again to get fit. This is the third time this year that I’ve told myself that I’m going to start again when it comes to fitness, exercising and losing weight. I shot a Go Pro video of me working out earlier and suffice to say, it was enough motivation to know that I want to change how I look and feel. Not only for how I see myself but because my fitness levels are shocking. So here we go again, hitting the reset button for the last time this year (fingers crossed)!

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Why Can’t I Be Happy?

We all want it, right? But sometimes, it’s just so bloodie hard to be happy.

When you have a mental illness, so much of your time is devoted to this idea of finding happiness again. Because to be quite frank, when you’re mentally ill, life isn’t exactly like a bed of roses. I know I’ve struggled a lot when it comes to this concept of happiness and what defines that exuberant, joyful emotion that crackles across your skin like a heatwave.

You know the feeling when everything clicks into place? Whether it’s waking up to your favourite weather, that song you’ve been enjoying on the radio, a full English and a cuppa waiting in the kitchen downstairs (or if you’re a lazy git like me, when it’s brought up to bed for you!), seeing your friends, watching that film in the cinema for the third time because it’s just SO GOOD; we all want to experience this feeling as often as possible. And in my quest for happiness, I’ve tried and tested a multitude of tools along the way. Read More

My Taboo, My Salvation, My Freedom.

I set a reminder on my phone at 11 o’clock on Friday the 17th of March to write a blog post the following morning as I was probably knackered (even though I imagine I went on to play PS4 all night). Well here we are, 39 days later and I’m finally getting round to writing it. After ignoring numerous buzz notifications from my ‘Reminders’ app nudging me every day to write the damn thing, it’s happening. I’ve been putting it off because I’m nervous about the subject matter. Actually, tell a lie, I’m nervous about the reaction to the subject matter. Anyway, let’s get on with it, shall we? Read More

2018 Goals, Marathon Running & OCD (because, y’know, it gets everywhere)

It feels peculiar to me to be setting goals for next year when not so long ago, getting out of bed was hard enough. Every Tom, Dick and Harry will tell you that when you’re recovering from mental illness, being realistic and setting yourself daily goals is the best practice, so here I am, casually going about organising my goals for 2018. Read More

Sweet Swell

Drifting, drifting,

And yet lilting and wilting and coasting, too. Pushed and pulled by this monstrous swell, and dragged back under the blue. 

I’m never sure I can feel it approach, like a lioness masked downwind, prowling in the Serengeti plains.

And yet I feel it’s claws sink in, the teeth pierce the prickled hairs standing to attention, the pain lasting for days. 

What wicked creator would trouble me so, be it magical or scientific or will we ever know? To burden and begrudge me respite and peace?

Sleep saw it coming and ran for the hills! A pillar of strength you were, my slumbering chum, you’ve been AWOL for weeks!

A miserable comfort settles gently on my chest, weighing but a feather’s whisper at first. But it outstays the welcome I gestured (of course),

And I can’t get rid so easily for it now weighs as much as the Titanic that sunk & I’m sinking as well and I’m shit out of luck

And the ache is a swell all of its own that moans and groans and wants me to know that it’s there,
“Hey!

Hello!

I’m not letting go!” it cries.

Pitiless and eager and willing to show, meandering & mooning its face in the damp evening glow. 

Swell, sweep me under and keep me there please. I know I can’t breathe but at least I’m at peace.