Day 56 - CBT

Apologies for missing a blog post yesterday. Not that I was inundated with requests from people demanding where the Daily Evans was.

In truth I was busy at work all day then I went to see my woman in the evening. Poor girl has had a right old week of it so I thought I would go over and let her look after me for a few hours. Help her take her mind off stuff.

She's been offered some CBT training and if I'm honest I'm gutted. Not that I resent people getting help, expanding their mind or learning about new ways of living. God knows life is hard enough for many of us without any help or guidance.

No, mine is a purely selfish resentment. I don't like pain. I hate it. I mean don't get me wrong, I don't mind dishing it out or suffering in endurance fitness events. But I don't like having pain inflicted on me.

So when she said she was going for CBT training my heart sank. I'm not even sure she knows what she's getting herself in for. I do and I don't like it one bit.

CBT, some of you may think is Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. Well you'll be mistaken. I know what CBT stands for. Cock and Ball Torture. It's a BDSM term and I don't like it one bit.

many readers will know I'm anything but a prude. I mean I have done most things there is to do. Don't get me wrong I don't mind the old chap being firmly handled sometimes. Even the odd bite. But I draw the line at cock and ball torture. What was she thinking? Did I have no say in this? It's a fucking disgrace. I didn't sign up for this. What do you think my name is Frank Bough or something!

Next time I'm asleep and I hear that chastity cock belt being jangled I'm out of there. No it just wont do. Not after a hard week at work. Not after anything.

I'm going to suggest she swops it for Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. I'll certainly rest easy then. I need my sleep. Lord knows I get too little anyway, let alone being terrified of receiving death by ball bag. I'll let you know how it goes.

Completed 4 weeks at work today. I whole month. I'm enjoying it and learning lots about myself. It's a recovery job in the sense I just know it's a higher power thing. The only way I'll make a success of it is if I keep my insane alcoholic head out of the way and keep committing to recovery. Reckon I'm in with half a chance.

God I hope I haven't become boring in the past month. It's been a struggle keeping up the blog but I've pretty much done it. Some days are better than others. Today was a good day professionally but a bad day groinally. Let's hope it improves tomorrow. BDSM can fuck right off today

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans

Day 55 - The Importance of Sleep and Treating Yourself Right

It's so important to get enough sleep and treat yourself right. Especially if you have a demanding job/life.

So many studies have shown what can happen to you if you don't give the body enough shut eye. Illness, mental problems. Concentration. Performance.

Same with what you put in your body. Diet Coke rots your guts, teeth and mind. Sugar poisons you, sweetener and processed foods can give you cancer and smoking, well we all know about that one don't we?

So with this all information. This common knowledge and armed with 12 years of sobriety behind me, a spiritual 12 step programme and a reasonable IQ why do I do the following:

• Stay up until 1 or 2am then have to get up at 6.30am ( I just cant get to bed early, it's like I have an in built resistance to sleep)
• Drink copious amounts of tea with sweetener to get me going and provide my fix
• Neck between 2-6 cans of diet coke a day
• Smoke on average 20 cigarettes from morning to night
• Eat tins of tuna or chicken salad and pork scratchings rather than cook
• Munch on several packs of sweet tasting sugar free gum a day.
• Stop meditating
• Use gym sporadically

It's insane. But I'm locked in it. Unable or unwilling to change. I've written about it before so I will spare you the dull rehashing of old ground.

But it's even more mental when you have a new job that involves commuting and committing to the office and new task every day. And one I'm enjoying!

Every day I tell myself to change only to fall back into familiar old habits, routines and behaviours. It's like I'm stupid or something. A few days of feeling OK and I'm back doing what I always do. I hope I can change it before the wheels fall off. Why must I cane myself? It's self sabotage of the highest order.

Still, I got 6 hours last night, didn't meditate mind but only drank 1 diet coke. An improvement on the previous day. Some days are better than others.

The other problem I have is that I seem to wake up at midnight. Always have. I feel it a waste to get in from work/meeting/gym at 10pm, then go to bed. Instead I eat a little, write a little, then it's nearly midnight, I've woken up by now and it's time for 'Me time', which usually involves watching TV or something on the computer I shouldn't. Relaxation time usually takes me to around 1 or 2, then it's to bed and the whole cycle starts again.

However instead of being gloomy and resigned like  I used to be, I'm now aware of it and I have faith/hope it can change. I'm more optimistic. You have to be otherwise life really would be a long barrel of piss. It's not. I think it's rather good actually. Best not try and kill myself with my habits then hey? Now that really would be rather foolish

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans

Day 54 - The Becky Adlington Syndrome

So here we have a double Olympic Gold medallist. A 24 year old female athlete MBE, who for all intents and purposes should be a fantastic role model for all young women. So why is she in the news today?

The tabloids are speculating if she's had a nose job. This worthless vacuous media and image obsessed society we seem to have created are more interested in how she looks than what took her to 2 gold medals.

Forget the years of training and sacrifice. Forget the 10 years of hard work and dedication. Forget the elite performance programme she undertook throughout her teenage years when most of us were experimenting more with Smirnoff than swimming,

None of that is headline news is it? It doesn't sell papers. What does is X factor. Celebrity. Image. Looks. Fashion. Glitz. People are famous for appearing on reality shows for Christ sake. It has made people more accessible to fame. It has lowered the bar of celebrity to such an extent that you don't need to excel at something to be famous. It fucking sickens me. Vacuous scrubbers like Cheryl Cole are more admired than Olympic medal winners who have actually contributed something rather than hair, filler and a professional victim image. Makes me boil.

Who cares if she's had a nose job. Poor girl has clearly got severe self esteem and body dysmorphia issues. The stick she got after the 'Lympics was a disgrace.

But I tell you who else can have it - the over the top hysterical political correct brigade. Open letters from feminists in the Guardian sticking up for her. Yet another example of people being as moronic but from another side. The middle class liberal moralisers brigade. Coming out in support of her publicly and in masses because it's seen as the right thing to do. Fuck them and their Farmers markets and politically correct social conscience.

How many times have those people watched TV and criticised what the presenter is wearing. How many of the plankton on Facebook or Twitter sticking up for her have criticised someone in their life? They've even created a TV show out of it for Christs Sake - Goggle Box. It's insane.

I grew up with both my Nan and and my Mum in stereo saying 'Oh I don't like her hair', when the 6 O'clock news came on or Blind Date. It's human nature to be visually judgmental for fucks sake. It's called social conditioning. Get over it.

How many people who in the safety of their own home slaughter people for how they look only to leap to out in Becky's defence publicly because it's the morally right thing to do. Fucking moronic hypocrites. Facebook and Twitter is full of them.

And whilst I'm at it what about her? Is she so innocent? She plays the victim  so well in this? What the fuck is 'I'm a Celebrity Get me out of here'. - it's a fucking reality show on ITV to millions of people. It's part of the celebrity game. Get on it, get a fee, increase your profile and publicity, get interviews, your brand value goes up, personal appearances go up and you increase your earning potential. It's part of the game. But to cry and moan that you are in the spotlight after? Come on luv getting a fucking grip.

Then she complains about being judged in public. Come on are we that fucking ignorant to what she is doing. I hate people who play the system then play the innocent victim after just as much. Professional victims annoy me just as much. Yet another example of empty vacuous moralising and values. Then again who am I to judge her? I'm a hypocrite too and I haven't got an MBE and 2 gold medals in the tank. I can fuck off myself.

Everyone can have it today. Fuck you and fuck me.

Today you were either Pro Becky or a leper for not condoning the tabloids. Makes me sick. We are actually more narrow minded and fascist than ever before. Social media was supposed to encourage freedom of speech & open mindedness. All it really does it perpetuate the narrow close minded moralistic society we have become.

I'm going for a lie down and Scotch egg. Today has given me the right hump. And despite it being cruel I still think what Frankie Boyle said was genuinely funny. Sorry Becky (MBE)

PS - I only had 4 hours kip last night. Me + 4 hours kip = Miserable bastard.

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans (Non MBE, Maidenhead Boys Under 12 Cup winners 1984)

Day 53 - I'm not as well as i think i am...Why Sponsorship is so Important.

Why is it so important to have a sponsor in a 12 step fellowship? Because sometimes I'm not as well as I think I am.

For all those who aren't in a 12 step fellowship you maybe wondering what is a sponsor? Well think of a mentor style situation and you won't be far off.

I was reading in The Standard last week that there are several schemes set up in Tower Hamlets and other socially disadvantaged areas of London which employ a Mentor scheme (Yes despite what you read out of towners, not everyone in London is living in a 6 bedroom townhouse, shops at Fortnum & Mason and host dinner parties thrown by Nigella every weekend)

Essentially a mentor is an older figure who has empathy for the struggler either in learning or bad behaviour. They will  work with the kid, and Mentor them to help them find their way. It is not an authority figure but someone the kid can trust, look up to and work with. A mentor is usually someone who can be admired and in some cases emulated.

Studies have shown this system to be a success. More so than the traditional tutor and pupil relationship which is seen as heriarchical. When it is more equal the chance of success is higher. Hardly revolutionary and makes sense but society loves authority. Seemingly it keeps order even if it proves not to work. Sponsorship is along the same lines and works really well.

A sponsor is someone listen to, has a bit of time under their belt, you identify with, like the sound of their Gib, has been through the programme and in some cases you admire. Then it is your job as someone who knows fuck all about the disease of alcoholism your own condition/madness to ask them if they would help you. To be your sponsor. This is usually for people in their early days but we all need guidance and help no matter how long in the programme we have been.

A sponsor will get to know you and your illness. They will Pull you up when your in the madness. Help you see things that you can't. They are not there to molly coddle you, agree with you, sympathise with you. They are there to help you get sober and stay sober. They are also human. Some people make the mistake of relying too much on a sponsor or placing them on a pedestal. That is falling into dangerous territory. We are all human and need to stand on our own two feet. reliance on other people, places or things is another sign of sickness. A sponsor is just another drunk who has been through the programme, collected some experience and wisdom and is there to pass it down to you. They are not counsellors, marriage guidance, therapists, coaches or God.

So after 12 years of sobriety do you still need one? When I don't crave alcohol anymore and attend regular meetings surely I don't need a sponsor then, right? Wrong!! Alcoholism is a mental disease that never goes away. Alcoholism is in people not bottles. No matter how long you stay sober it is always there, yapping away on your shoulder.

When I start running my own life, making my own decisions. Not checking in. I'm in trouble. That's when the madness can creep in. It happens without you knowing. After all what is the point of meetings, 12 step stuff, programme etc if you can look after yourself? That in my experience is when people drink again, go mad or kill themselves. Such is the power and subtlety of the disease. It centres in the mind and can take control. That is why regular attendance and exposure to the programme is critical.

Does that make sense?

It may seem I am being over dramatic but trust me I'm not. I have seen it many times and that is why it is a much mis-understood disease that most of society and the medical profession is ignorant to. It Kills many people without most even knowing why. This Saddens me.

So why am I banging on about sponsorship? Recently I have become self sufficient and rarely been ringing mine. 'I have a new job,' 'I'm busy', 'I'm OK', 'I know what he'll say so what's the point', all goes through the head. Excuses Excuses.

Self sufficiency is a real strength sometimes and lethal at others.

Weirdly I have felt pretty chirpy recently. Thinking everything is good. I guess I never knew how much of an impact a decent and exciting new job could have on self esteem. I thought I was more complex than that. Turns out I'm not. But a new job, that takes up alot of time cannot mask what's going on underneath. it can sure help to postpone it though. I've also been sponsoring 3 men. Reasonably new. But spending time talking to them. At this point. New job. A few years in the tank, sponsoring 3 blokes you can start to think to yourself, 'I've cracked it', Oh how wrong one can be!

Without knowing it, I've been living in huge resentment and blame in a situation without even realising it and it was only phoning my sponsor last night (after 2 pork pies and scotch eggs - I was actually wiping down the crumbs from my top as I spoke to him) that it was pointed out I was pointing the finger of blame at someone and conveniently forgetting about looking at my part or any role I had in the situation,

Fucking cunt. He was supposed to agree with me!!! Turns out he was right and the best thing he could have done was hold up the mirror and in a loving way ask me what I had done. Ask me what was my part. Ask me to look at myself first before pointing the finger.

It made me think I'm not as well as I think sometimes and Sponsorship is utterly crucial for my mental and spiritual well being,  to have people in my life who love me enough to challenge my mad head. It was good, I am very fortunate to have that and if I ever get round to doing what he suggested and not living in the problem I'll be first to share when I'm walking across water.

Hang tight blog heads. We're all in this together

Nicholas Evans

Day 51 & 52 - Going to Any lengths

They say, 'to get recovery go to any lengths'.

Tonight I chaired a meeting in Stoke Newington.

That far enough?

Together We Are Stronger

PS - No, really,  x2 scotch eggs, x2 pork pies, x2 bags of salt & vinegar Discos, x1 tub of ice cream at 10pm on a Sunday night IS ideal preparation for a busy week.

Nicholas Evans

Day 50 - Something strange happened today - I believe they call it Gratitude

I've always been ungrateful. I cannot honestly remember many periods in my life where I've been humbly appreciative for what I have.

My grandparents were grateful. Humble, dedicated and happy with their lot. They seemed content. Appreciative of small things. My Mother was/is the same. Grateful people seem to be on the whole happy.

My father wasn't. Everyone was either 'a fucking wanker' or 'tosser'. He was never grateful for anything either. Always wanted to be the big I am, but never seemingly happy. He was an alcoholic see. It seems to be par for the course

I'm the same. I've always believed I deserved something special. Never bothered to put the work in to get it mind, but definitely thought I was destined for greatness.

High expectations and low returns results in frustration. It meant that nothing was really good enough. It meant I have never felt grateful.

Of course going on holiday to poor parts of the world and seeing people who never had much but were humble would make me grateful, only for me to return quickly back to ungrateful as I got back to the real business of being me.

This continued for many years but covering it up, as when you hit recovery your supposed to be grateful. I wasn't. I became A master of the fake humility. Particulary fond of the 'fingers on the chin look'. You know the one,  when you put your fingers on your chin to appear more earnest, interested and humble. Deep down you know it's a sham and for image. Yes folks I really have been that shallow and self obsessed at times.

Life has been a collection of happenings designed to get what I want or need. Then of course when I don't it leads to deep resentment of others, myself - a general ingratitude. Dis-ease. It's ugly and not an attractive place to be.

So why am I on about that today?

Tonight after a long day at work, I did the gym and got to my home meeting (late) and settled in to listen. I loved it. I felt calm and at home after a full on working week. it felt as comfortable to me as the pub. I felt at home.

Then a few of us from the meeting went for dinner. It was great to spend time with a bunch of sober lunatics eating olives and being brutally honest about our character flaws. Laughing at them, poking fun at them. It felt good. Really good.

Then after dinner I was struck with a sudden bout of gratitude. Holy fuck what is this? How lucky am I? I mean really. I am so lucky to have the pleasure of company of people trying to do their best, live with a mental illness and have a right royal laugh about it. Like a kinship that's unspoken.

It felt so good to just breath, take off the mask of normality and relax with like minded fruitcakes.

I've never had it so good and tonight I realised that. It's a special gift I have this recovery lark. I may not follow it to the limit but I am in it and without it id be truly fucked. I liked being out with my gang from the meeting. It felt good I realised it tonight.

Most of them one in particular is proper old school recovery. None of this floating in the stars bollock. They carry on the spirit of the old school AA. It's what I like to do and it's tip top to be around people like that. It's a laugh in fact instead of the navel gazing, morose self obsessed therapy based types I avoid. (Shit, sounds like this blog)

What is this thing they call gratitude? A warm feeling of wellbeing born of an internal spirtitual feeling not an outside force. It's the equivalent of a large brandy just in a healthier form. I like it. Who knows I may try a bit more of it. After all I am a greedy bastard.

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans

Day 49 - Being Human Again

After a 3 day holiday from being human, today I returned back to the world of the living. Thank goodness.

It was touch and go for a while. I felt ill, lacklustre, irritable and anti-social. Just like someone from Benefits Street.

Why? Because like a massive moronathon, I completely caned myself at the weekend. Binging on pretty much everything other than drink and drugs making myself feel shit this week.

Back in the day I would drink & binge for 3 days giving myself a 3 day hangover. This was similar. Except replace booze with caffeine, food and sex.

How can that make you feel shit? Well if you do so much of it until you can do no more, survive on 8 hours kip all weekend, eat all the stuff your body cannot handle anymore there's going to be consequences.

I just don't know where to stop. Pass me some chocolate and I'll keep munching until I've eaten the 24 hour garage out of Crunchies. There is no off button.

If you have a nut allergy it's best to stay away from them. If you have a wheat allergy, as I do, it doesn't have quite the same dramatic affects if you eat it, but it still fucks me. So when I found myself on Sunday necking Battered sausages, chips, sandwiches, biscuits, cake, flapjacks and chocolates. I probably should have fore casted what would happen.

Result? Massive wheat and sugar hangover. Making me tired, bloated, gassy, foggy head, craving junk, disinterested, fearful, timid and far too serious. All that from eating shit. Having gas that smells worse than shit is no fun on a packed train commuting or a small office I can tell you. It's been a tricky week.

So that's why I was a miserable sod last night. That's why I wasn't feeling it. That's why I was taking myself far too seriously. I'm back now, thank God. Plus I'm sure those poor bastards on the 8.02am to Waterloo will be relieved.

Not much Inside Job change there was it? All that self knowledge availed me fuck all. Still we live and learn. My problem is I rarely learn. Hopefully one day it will dawn on me and I'll change. Until that day I'll keep writing this blog and the 3 days of feeling inhumane is a good enough reason to eat clean and lean baby. Trouble is it just doesn't taste quite as good as Jammie dodgers. Those little fuckers are worse than crack.

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans

Day 48 - Not feeling it

I'm not feeling it today. I Don't feel well. I'm tired, irritable and a little miserable.

I'm not going to write. It won't win me any daily followers if you're reading this for the first time but fuck it. I'm watching shit tellie and drinking tea. In my dressing gown. With my balls out.

Thought I'd leave you with a spiritual message at the end

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans

Day 47 - Is it any wonder i drank?

• Today, on the way to work many of the trains were delayed due to flooding in Surrey. There were few announcements.

• The commute was packed, many people were losing their temper and getting stressed out. (I think it's because they didn't have room to get their Ipad's out)

• I read in the paper that average house prices in London will increase by 22% over the next few years. The article also said most houses are now unaffordable for 1st time buyers and many communities have been destroyed due to wealthy foreign buyers. The concept of community in London was becoming a thing of the past. It also said that most people paid an average of £400,000 rent in their lifetime. I rent and haven't bought yet. I'm 41.

• It rained (again) and I found out my work shoes are not waterproof.

• This evening I watched a programme on the Chinese economy. It essentially said they are on the verge of meltdown due to continued borrowing. That the world economy is fucked and the rate of borrowing continues to rise beyond what we actually produce.

• On Facebook I read an article about a professor claiming the extreme weather conditions are due to global warming and that the climate will be completely fucked in 30 years.

• My girlfriend was in an iffy mood.

Is it any wonder I drank.

Thank God for sobriety.

We are making a good job at ballsing up our earth though by the looks of it.

Tired.

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans

Day 46 - SEX : THE TRUTH

Valentines Day made me think about sex. Not that I need an excuse to think about it. Most men think about it on average every 8.4 seconds. In fact in the time it's taken me to write that sentence I've had 4 thoughts about it.

I had my valentines date with my girlfriend on Saturday night and I began writing this blog at 4am on Sunday morning after a 2 and half hour mind blowing sesh. Too much information? Possibly. But I think it's important to talk about sex and the importance it plays in people's life.

Every person and couple has their own sex life and likes. Each to their own, I'm not going to expose mine or my girlfriend's. (It would take too long) But it got me thinking about how we don't like to talk about sex in Britain. For a nation who likes to think about it, view it on XXX rated sites, read books about it (50 Shades) or buy things for it (The adult market is worth £355 million a year), we really don't like to talk about it publicly.

The weird thing is, quite a lot of couples/people have an unhappy sex life which affect their relationship yet don't seek help, counselling or therapy to improve it. Most suffer in silence. Do you?

According to a Durex study of 10,000 people in the UK 38% of people/couples were satisfied in their sex life. Only 52% felt able to tell their partners what they really want. 67% had sex once a week and 12% rarely. Now I appreciate people are 'busy' and once you have kids/family all that can go out of the window. (Probably why I've never wanted kids yet, far too selfish) - 29% of women never orgasm during sex with their partner, 32% women fake it. Clearly there is an issue with sex in the UK. But people don't want to talk about it. Why?

I have experienced pretty much everything there is to experience sexually in my life, both good and bad. I have been with a partner who regulary faked orgasm for 2 years (she had an asexual condition unbeknown to me that made it impossible for her to orgasm. That was a blow to my ego and a surprise to me after she told me when the relationship ended) I have been in relationships where I felt unable to tell my partner what I wanted to do and hid it. I have been unfaithful, I have been promiscuous. I have been in one night stands, sexually adventurous. I have even at some stages of my life probably been in sex addiction. I feel well qualified to talk about this subject.

Not for egoic reasons. Nor indeed to make myself look good. It's because The Inside Job is interested in getting under the bonnet of problems and seeking ways to help. If we can be truthful then I think that's half the battle to overcoming problems. It's what drives me & this blog.

Maybe people are too embarrassed to talk about problems. After all sexual relations are laced with emotions and deep feelings. Not all of them logical. It is mostly a subject best avoided. Even as kids we run away from it. Getting embarrassed when nervous parents start to tell us about the birds and the bees. It's such a huge part of our lives, yet remains so hidden.

It has changed so much over the years. Even since I was a kid. You used to have to find your Dad's secret stash of Jazz mags, now all you need to do is click on Google for any number of filth. Internet figures state that over 68% of searches are sex related. If we are so obsessed by sex and it is so readily available, why the big public embarrassment of talking about it?

Some claim the sexification of society has caused a slip in moral values. Teen musicians scantily clad, Hip Hop promoting mysogonistic lyrics, adult swinging sites, gratuituous sexual scenes in TV shows, magazines promoting sexually stereotyped women. The porn industry, endless politicians caught with their pants down. The list is endless of filthy fuckers. But is it any really different from before? Have morals slipped so far in modern society and is it sex related? I'm not so sure.

There is no doubt the glorification of sexual stereo-typing in main stream media is damaging. The passé attitude to rape, sexual violence and casual sex on TV seeps into the mainstream consciousness. However, it's mostly so fucking lame and banal is it really worth getting upset about. When can we actually have a decent debate about sex?

Take the Romans and Victorians. Those dirty bastards liked nothing better than an Opium induced orgy. Or  Medieval times? They loved a rampant bunk up. What's really changed? Is it just the media image of it? In fact I believe our sexuality has become even more sterile and conservative. Going outside the norm on anything usually provokes cynism and hysteria. Just look on social media when people make challenging debates. They are usually shot down.

Also our attitudes remain exceptionally narrow. If A girl is promiscuous she's a slut. Whereas A bloke becomes a hero. We live in odd times. Sexual stereo-types. Other cultures are much looser about sex. Less hung up. Sex is sex and not to be hysterical about.

People bang on about protecting children. Really? What's more damaging, bringing up a child up to believe in banal sound bites, conservative moral values and sexual limitations - or live in a free and open culture where you are encouraged to express yourself but with respect for yourself and others?

When I was a kid, my eldest brother's bed was propped up by grunt mags. Escort, Razzle and Club International. My old man always had a few Jizz mags under the front seat of his Ford Granada. Readers Wives was my personal favourite. A collection of ropey old slags with hairy bushes up to their navals was a particular thrill in the 70's/. Now if you see a hairy bush it really is a collectors item. The craze now is for shaved. Making women look like plucked chicken's. Times really do change.

There was nothing more exciting as a kid to find a secret stash of filth mags in the local woods. Usually with the centre pages stuck together. Nowdays kids won't have such simple thrills. Not quite the same coming across 'shaven Asian 7' online rather than the woods.

The way women dress has changed too. Some still choose to dress up and look sexy. Others say it is their right to dress down and be what they want to be. I'm going to stay out of that debate. It's for the individual to decide.

What I increasingly notice though is young women not making an effort. They go out in Onsies and Ugg boots/tracksuit bottoms. I don't like it one bit. I personally like a woman to celebrate her femininity. I prefer it that way. Nails, hair, make up, heels. Call me old school but I like a woman to look like a woman. Perhaps it was exposure to grunt mags from an early age that shaped my view. Who knows. It doesn't mean I'm sexist or think any less of women. They are an equal to men, sometimes superior, but just because I love them dressed sexily doesn't mean to say I stereotype them.

I personally don't see the problem in women celebrating their femininity. I find it a true joy of sexual role play. Hiding it and downplaying it frustrates me. I find it sad when men tell their women not to dress sexily. Men should celebrate and encourage feminity, not reject it.

There's nothing finer in life than a woman celebrating her femininity and sexuality. It's a powerful aphrodisiac. I think that's where most men go wrong. To selfish to get what THEY want. If they concentrate on HER pleasure he gets more of what he wants. Simple really.

So why am I banging on about sex? I have certainly used it in the past to increase my low self esteem. I needed to become good at it, to make a woman say WOW in order to boost my ego. This is when sex is used in an addictive way. Pursuing it as a means to make myself feel better, even though I was doing it in an unselfish way in giving her pleasure was ultimately a selfish act. I went through countless one night stands and sexual promiscuity because I thought it boosted my male pride. I was lacking in esteem so I sought it in sexual adventure. It took me a long time to see that one. I have veered into sex addiction territory on many occassions. When you are continually usung something to make you feel better it has all the hallmarks of addiction.

I'm not here to moralise. Whatever people do is up to them. Some people or more liberal than others. Either way is neither right or wrong.

What I do know is in the past when I have used people selfishly that is wrong. Hurting people is just not cool. It doesn't make you feel good. I have felt empty and hopeless after meaningless sex. It's not what it's cracked up to be.

In periods in my singleton, whilst having fun, my male married friends with kids would all say they were living vicariously through me. They loved hearing about my sex life. Some of it was fun of course, but other times was not quite what you saw on the brochure. There is a deep sadness at the heart of a man who places sexual performance as a means of gaining self esteem. It never lasts. It is ultimately lonely and unhappy.

And now? I'm in a tight relationship. We are open and honest with each other. It is one of the first times I have been able to share what I want with a woman. It takes some courage of course. Most people dare not speak openly to their partner for fear of hurting them. I know I still feel like that a little. Some of me wants to keep a little in reserve. It's the male way. Opening yourself too much can make you vulnerable. Men hate vulnerability. Apart from when it will get them laid. Come on boys we have all acted selfishly and manipulatively at some points in our lives haven't we? Showing vulnerability to boost our chances of getting our leg over. Some more than others. That is when using selfish behaviour to get what you want is dangerous.

It's hard being open in relationships though. What happens if I want to watch porn? What about some of the more fruitier things? What happens if she will feel she's not fulfilling me. Jealousy. Envy? What happens if she gets upset? These are all the things that stop most people opening up to partners. But if you don't what then? Ultimately it will gnaw away at you. It may lead to adultery, dishonesty. Denying yourself sexually can have a knock on effect. it may even affect a relationship. Who knows.

The evidence is supported by the survey that some people have problems with sex. It's like other things, a lot suffer alone. As you know this blog is about being 'together'. About sharing the things that most think should be a secret. I am a firm believer in unlocking repression and the truth setting us free. It's good to open the debate. It's good to dare to share. To be open. To communicate and do new things.

All I ask is that if you are struggling or keeping things to yourself reach out and share. I guarantee it will help set in motion a chain of events that will have a positive influence on your life. I can't guarantee how or how long it will take but it's the first step that's the hardest - or for the sex addicts it's the fist step. A poor gag to end on, but then again sex addicts like a gag. Don't we chaps?

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans

Day 45 - Billy The Drunk

Following on from my valentines day blog and hot Valentines date with my girl last night I was going to talk about sex today.

Readers of this blog will be interested to note if the slap up romantic KFC I talked about on Valentines day resulted in my Valentines blozzer. Well, without disclosing too much information. I rejected Colonel Saunders for the far more stylish Gaucho Grill in Sloane Square. One of my favourite places. A stylish and sexy Grill. Full of leather, mirrors and animal skin. (Not one for the Vegans)

I'm happy to report that an upgrade of the romantic venue got me an upgrade on the desired blozzer. I began writing this at 4am on Sunday morning. I think I'll leave it at that.

I have written a blog about sex but will save it for later. The reason I changed my mind is because I went to a meeting this morning (Sunday) off the Kings Road and had an experience that moved me to write a different blog.

I felt suprisingly sprightly for only 3 hours sleep. The sun was shining. I was full of Valentine love and off I toddled.

Usually Kings Road meetings are known for their lack of hard hitting drunks. It is more about 'feelings', 'boundaries' and 'high class problems'  but If I ever wondered why I go to meetings. I got my answer today.

It was a topic meeting. The topic picked was 'positivity'. "Oh god", my heart sank. My negative ego doesn't like to be challenged see.

The usual mixture of irrelevant psycho babble and exceptional wisdom was shared as I flitted in and out of listening. Then half way through the meeting a drunk staggered in, weaving across the room, aimed for an empty chair, missed, stumbled into a well dressed woman, then finally hit his aim and slumped in the seat.

He had odd shoes on, horribly swollen ankles, white trousers with massive shit stains up the back, a battered Barbour jacket, a stained hat and was shaking violently. The DT's. He was a chronic alcoholic in severe stages of withdrawal and advanced alcoholism. It broke my heart.

If I ever needed a reason to attend meetings there it was infront of me. Suddenly I stopped listening to the sharing. It seemed immaterial and instead I concentrated on the man in front of me.

He had a straggly bears, scars and bumps on his face, eyes that had seen a thousand things they shouldn't and stunk of piss and shit. He was as bad as you can get. He reminded me of my Father.

I went downstairs to the kitchen to get him half a cup of tea, but they had packed the tea stuff away. Another guy from the meeting (A proper AA) went out to Costa to get him a coffee. The meeting ended and me and my mate held up this guy and chatted to him.

His name was Billy, he was 56, was homeless and had struggled with alcoholism all his life. He had been coming in and out of AA for 15 years, the longest sobriety he had was 8 months and he was in terrible shape. Poor Billy. I said, 'I really feel for you man'. He replied "we're all in the same boat." Which I guess we are. He really got to me. Tears are welling up now as I write this. I think of my Father. A hopeless street drunk. I think of the many other chronic alcoholics. It Breaks my heart.

Yet despite the sadness and the madness. He was hilarious. There is a tragic comedy about the alcoholic. I saw it in my father. I found 2 combs and bus pass in his shit stained trousers when he died. The alcoholic ego is the last thing to go. There is a strange charismatic humour to a rip roaring drunk and Billy was no exception. He had the style, even if it was piss and shit stained and he had the charisma, even if he was walking like a zombie. Peripheral Neuritis had undoubtedly taken hold (where the alcohol destroys the nerve endings)

After chatting to him for a few minutes, it was obvious that he was in his own world. I helped him sit down, (took us 4 goes to hit the target) told him to stay for the next meeting, to load up on biscuits and wished him good luck.

A guy from the meeting came over to me and said, 'Nice work', then another  asked "Is Billy OK and a regular?!!! What the fuck do you think. He's got shit stained strides and can barely walk! Of course he's not alright. Still it was good of him to ask.

I went for a cup of tea on Kings Road with a mate to talk about his rapidly disintegrating relationship with a girl who not only has low self esteem but is a chronic co-dependant (sounds like a perfect fit for an alcoholic), looked out of the window at the posh shops of Kings Road and there was Billy, propped against a wall mumbling to everyone who walked past.

It was a funny site as he was propped against a posh clothes shop under the banner, 'Valentines Special'.  I didn't see that on any greeting cards. It was pure comedy gold.

Then he slid down the wall, laying on the pavement for a kip. He laid across a doorway of expensive apartments, people had to step over him to get into their £3million home and passers by rather sweetly stopped to check he was OK. The girls in the shop didn't know what to do, so I went across.

'It's OK I know him", I said.
"Where from?" They asked
"AA, He's Billy. He's a chronic alcoholic. He's OK."
"OH" they replied. Not a lot you can say to that. "We've called an ambulance. it will be here shortly."
"OK, well done girls. Don't worry."

I tried to rouse Billy but he was totally gone. People stopped to offer help. A first aider said, 'does he need CPR'. That was brave considering the bits of puke on Billy's beard. It was actually really life affirming with so many people offering to help another. Rather touching really.

I stayed with Billy for a bit, then a police officer came and they waited for the ambulance. I retreated back to the coffee shop. It was quite a spectacle.

I left with a defining feeling of sadness. Of powerlessness. I'd like to do more to help. But What can I do? I played the tape forward. Billy will get taken to hospital. He will require specialist Detox otherwise he would die of convulsions. The poor guy is chronic. It is not a choice, He is a bad case.

How much will all that treatment cost? £2,000? Then he will be chucked back on the streets only for the process to repeat itself again and again until poor Billy will be no-more. That is essentially the process my Father followed until he died aged 64.

Alcoholics are durable bastards. Billy has had a hard life yet he was still hanging on. It was the only life he knew but you could see the pain on his face.

That is why alcoholism breaks my heart. People walked over him thinking 'tramp'. I walk over to him thinking 'alcoholic', which, amongst other things, leads to being a tramp. There but for the grace of God go I.

The estimate for the economy dealing with alcohol abuse is around £500 million a year. A conservative estimate of dealing with Billy's alcoholism would be £50,000-£100,000 over the period of years. Is it right therefore to abandon these people as hopeless cases?

That is what gets me going. Fires me up. Makes me want to do something. Awareness and education are not only crucial to individuals but to societies as a whole. I'm not sure if it's too late for Billy, but if there were systems in place so that he wouldn't be thrown back out on the streets after being patched up he'd be in with a better chance of finding some kind of recovery.

There are lots of schemes, tons of people, charities, volunteers, professionals doing good work. Of course you cannot help someone who cant help themselves, but at least we can recognise it as a huge social problem and attempt to find answers cant we?

Rant over. He also had a lovely Ted Baker V-neck jumper on. Puke stained of course but the man had nice threads.

I am a lucky boy.

God bless you Billy and Mike Evans

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans

Day 44 - Valentines Day

There is definitely an odd feel about today. Not only is it Valentines Day, but it's a full moon and the country is being gangbanged by the weather. It's insane. Gale force winds, storms, torrential rain and flooding. Mother nature is stamping her authority and showing everyone who's boss. She is definately Boss Lady today.

Valentines Day. What actually is it? What does it mean to you? Are you with someone? If so do you celebrate it? If not do you hate it?

Here is the description on Wikipedia

The day was first associated with romantic love in the circle of Geoffrey Chaucer in the High Middle Ages, when the tradition of courtly love flourished. In 18th-century England, it evolved into an occasion in which lovers expressed their love for each other by presenting flowers, offering confectionery, and sending greeting cards (known as "valentines"). Valentine's Day symbols that are used today include the heart-shaped outline, doves, and the figure of the winged Cupid. Since the 19th century, handwritten valentines have given way to mass-produced greeting cards.

Many people now believe it to be nothing more than a commercial exploitative entity. Another excuse to pile pressure on us about what we should be doing or buying. How we should be. How we should act. Just like Easter, Christmas, Mothers Day, Fathers Day etc.

According to a study reported in today's press 2/5th's of 16-24 year olds don't bother with it, (To be fair 5/5ths of 16-24 year olds can't be arsed with anything) 50% of singletons ignore it and 1/3rd of long term married couples don't celebrate it. (Again flawed data as 2/3rd's of long term married couples don't celebrate anything other than a long kip.)

Only 15% of people go out for dinner on Valentines Night. Let's face it, having to book a table in an overcrowded restaurant with banks of tables side by side in 2's, with a set menu for £100, a red rose on the table, cheesey music and a ferero roche with the coffee is most people's idea of hell. Still if it gets you a blow job, who cares.

If you have been with your partner for longer than 10 years quite frankly the idea of going out all night and actually having to sit opposite and talk to each other is horrifying. There is nothing more romantic at that stage than watching a movie on the Ipad...in separate rooms of course.

Me? I'm a cynic and a romantic rolled into one. I hate all the bullshit pressure and rampant commercialism. The walking clichés of roses, cards, sweets, chocolates adverts and pressure to be romantic. However on the other hand I'm a terrible sucker for it. I feel the pressure and generally give in to it. I love giving gifts anyway, so I play the game. I reluctantly love it

For what is life without love? Joyless that's what. There are many types of love of course. Mostly nothing to do with Helium red balloons, or heart shaped chocolates. Those are gimmicks. Yes of course it's beautiful to give and receive gifts. Yes of course it is an expression of love to cook something or give to a loved one. Yes of course it's important to celebrate love. Nothing should ever detract from that in any form.

If it makes someone happy to have a 5 course set Valentine Menu in Zizzi's then who am I to criticise that? If buying a bouquet of Valentines themed flowers from M&S on the way home as I saw hundreds of men do today at Waterloo station makes people happy, then so be it. Who am I to be cynical?

But love is not for one day. It is every day. I am only beginning to learn or begin to take a peek of what love is. I have had no idea. My idea in the past has been in obsession, adoration and selfish need. Apparently love is not selfish. That is an on-going journey of discovery for me.

I did join the ranks today and gave my girlfriend some flowers, heart shaped chocolates and a card when she woke up. We agreed to have our date tomorrow night, not when everyone else is doing it. I prefer it that way.

The main regret I had though in doing an early morning romantic gesture is that I had to rush off to work and I didn't get the chance to cash in on my romantic gesture by receiving an early morning blozzer. I'll have to keep that one up my sleeve for tomorrow. A slap up KFC should seal the deal. I'll report more in tomorrow's blog.

Happy Valentines day everyone and if you are on your own, and haven't been told today by anyone. We all love you. Us humans. We all really love you so never EVER feel alone.

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans

Day 43 - Level 1 Listening and an attack of the inner demon

Remember what I said about level 1 listening a few weeks ago? Need a little reminder?

We listen in 3 ways;

Level 1 - listening to your own head not the other person (not engaged)
Level 2 - Listening fully to the other person but concentrating hard on listening (engaged but it takes work)
Level 3 - Listening fully, naturally, organically, taking in the whole picture and in 'the zone'.

Today I had a great example of level 1 listening and low self esteem affecting a meeting. Good thing I was able to spot it and nip in the bud.

Have you ever been into an environment and thought, 'fuck me I'm out of my league here'. Well, I did today. It was great!

I went to a work meeting. Just for background, I'm trying to sell a concept, a potential, a brand, a vision. It is my job to excite people and get them on board. So I walked into the unknown today. It was an agency but I didn't know the size of it until I got there. Turns out they're the biggest in the world looking after all the biggest brands. They were top class.

I walked in and holy shit it was like something out of the future. Big cool open planned spaces, sofas, tables, it's own coffee bar, glass open planned offices. People slouching with Ipads. It was stylish central. This place almost had 'money' written all over it. Truly an 'aspirational' place. The sort you would see in Sunday Times Style Magazine. I'm more of a Razzle man myself. So you could see the difference.

I immediately felt a little nervy (as the in built inside job of old held low beliefs in myself hold deep sometimes) It was a good job I had my full regalia on and in full Beckhamesque mode (PS - this is an observation not a boast but fuck me do I get looked at loads in town when out and about. I'm sure people look and think, 'Is he famous' before going about their day)

My thinking is that if I look like I know what I'm on about then that's half the battle.

So I ordered a skinny PG tips and settle down on the leather sofa. In came the poshest loveliest guy. All check shirt and Gucci loafer casual. They were dead nice and within 10 minutes I realised this man was exceptional at his job and I became slightly mesmerised by his knowledge. I actually enjoyed listening, forgetting I was supposed to be pitching.

Then it happened. The level 1 thinking. I said a sentence and almost instantly the inner voice kicked in, 'That was shit. You're way out of your league here. Shut up." And so the inner dialogue continued for a while as I attempted to listen to this lovely chap. "Would you shut the fuck up", I countered. "Fuck you loser", was the reply. Shit.

This argument happened for around 2 minutes. "You don't belong in this environment. These are big players. Stick to your provincial sporting club and portacabin you Loser." The committee had been awakened. They are never far and always eager to join the party.

I wasn't putting up with this. So I broke them. I smashed up the committee. You know how? I was honest. That's how. Not that I was having a psychological meltdown of course. Christ no you have to have some integrity.

No I told the truth about me, about the product about where we were at. I didn't sell. I didn't pretend to be a big swinging dick. I was me. The real me and you know what. The committee fucked off. I didn't feel less than and it was fun. It was OK. I enjoyed it.

What an amazing experience. I really enjoyed observing the head and then blowing the 'shitty thinking' away just by being authentic. I like it. I may try that more.

I was so impressed I went to the gym after work and hit some heavy weights. I felt good. So good in fact that I discussed level 1 listening to a few guys in the changing room. They became interested. I then told them a little about the recovery coaching and the levels of listening and how you can tell when someone is in level 1,2 or 3.

I didn't even know it and I was in coaching mode. Not in a trying it with someone way, but just because I was interested, animated and authentic. They seemed interested though and we had a good 10 minute power chat.

It was only after this time that I realised I had conducted this power coaching master class entirely with my cock out. I was stark naked. We all were. We had come out of the sauna and stood there talking,  cocks out, realising it.

I must admit these were slightly unnatural coaching conditions. But fuck it. Men have nothing to hide when naked. We were truly exposed. The only thing we didn't do was grunt and sacrifice a sheep. It was very funny and something I will laugh at for many an hour. I honestly had no idea I was delivering a passionate explanation of level 1 listening whilst having one leg on the bench and my ball sack hanging down like an udder. To be fair to the boys they were all in level 3. I'm pretty sure this ghastly site didn't distract them. We were all in the same boat. Perhaps this is the future of coaching. No fucking distractions. Naked Coaching. I'm in - are you?

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans

Day 42 - Self Management

How many of you are good at regulating your behaviour? Do you at all? Do you check yourself? Reflect?

It's not something I've been very good. I've tended to react to things immediately and act in my feelings. I put it down to being Welsh. Passionate. Emotional. Or sometimes a twat.

In my drinking days it was easy to put it down to alcohol, being drunk or hung-over. But what about when you're sober and haven't drunk for 12 years? What can you put it down to there?

It's trial and error. A journey of change. For me, I have the benefit of a spiritual 12 step programme to help me gain self knowledge and understanding of my behaviour. That's a good thing but I can assure you there have and are many times in my sobriety when I act badly. Just because your sober and in a 12 step programme doesn't mean to say you become a monk and well overnight.

Years of sobriety don't guarantee you emotional sobriety. Many addicts/alcoholics in recovery still act weirdly and in the madness from time to time. I know I do and sobriety is a massive learning curve of change. It happens slowly over time and it only happens when it's ready to happen. In many stages. In many ways.

I'm not saying that in a puritanical or 'I'm above you', way. As if people who don't have 12 step programmes are somehow less than or in the dark. That is not the case, some people are blessed with tremendous self management and regulation. Fuck knows how but they do.

I wasn't. I have had to learn the hard way. Basically by fucking up loads of times and getting things wrong. Sometimes time and again. They say the only way to reach humility is by humiliation. Lord knows I've done that one many times.  I still have much to learn and am certainly not the finished article. But I'm enjoying the process and journey. It is fascinating.

So to today. How did I self manage.

It's a very fine line between self management and stubbornness. After all I have met many people who simply will not ask for help, continually try to 'sort things' themselves and you can see there is a hurricane going on behind their eyes. That generally brings unhappiness.

Then there are the people who refuse to take responsibility and take charge of their own destiny and will ring a sponsor or adviser to make a decision for them. Again that is unhealthy and smacks of co-dependence.

Me? I'm trying to find the balance. Not something that comes easy to a lunatic alcoholic.

So what was it that made me uncomfortable about myself today? it's nothing major. Almost mundane. But it made me wince slightly at my behaviour.

I thought about my day at work. I did well. I was present. In level 3 thinking for most of the day, was 'up' and interested. On the way home I reflected. I realise I put a colleague down to someone else today. I did it very subtly and not in a malicious way, but I overplayed my role in a meeting and underplayed his. Why? Because I see him as a threat.

The clouds didn't part. I didn't character assassinate and the day passed smoothly. But on the way home I thought back to what I said to two people and it didn't sit right with me. This is new to me. It's called a conscience I believe. I've been used to lying every time I open my mouth. The only way I have been able to get away with it in my soul is because I know I have a good heart.

Trouble is I've been an arrogant lying bastard at some points in my life and this was an ever so subtle manifestation of that kind of thinking/behaviour.

Now I'm not being all holier than thou here. Or beating myself up for a slight error. But it's a good example of developing a strong inner moral compass. I didn't need to do it. It serves no purpose. All I need to do is concentrate on my behaviour and performance and the rest will take care of itself. I don't need to be involved in manipulating someone Else's performance.

I hate office politics, back stabbing and gossip. I have always stayed away from that. So on the way home, as I ducked under yet another smelly armpit on the packed tube I told myself, 'Don't ever put him down again. Leave things be and concentrate on myself."

Let's see if I can heed my own advice.

PS - sometimes this blog sounds like I'm really well and coming up with all the answers. I'm not. I just thought I'd highlight something that was triggered in me today. I still smoked loads of fags, drank 2 diet cokes and tutted at a tiny woman who was in my way at Waterloo. When she turned round I could see she was wearing a hearing aid and mostly deaf. The tut literally did fall on deaf ears. Told you I still have lots to learn

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans

Day 41 - FLOOD!

So the country appears to be flooding.

Now we have an excuse to talk endlessly about the weather. It is a national obsession. Every front page is dedicated to it. Sky is doing rolling 24 hour coverage of it. Social media is crammed full of it. Stop press the UK is Flooding!!!

You know it must be serious when Cameron starts making moral boosting visits to flood areas. Notice how he waits until the media is at it's peak before making an appearance. Making sure to look all serious, concerned to boost the 'man of the people' image. PR Cunt.

What a joke. He's about as morale boosting as a dose of Chlamydia. Imagine having your home flooded, turds everywhere, no hot water or electricity for days. No help, no information, Nothing. Then all of a sudden the Prime Minister turns up with a hoard of media, looking 'faux' concerned as if he gives a shit. If he really wants to help he could shift a few fucking sandbags the pompous twat. I'm pretty sure he'd be as welcome as Amanda Knox at a swinging party. Fuck off Cameron and leave it to the WI.

The Environment Agency are useless too. Issuing flood warnings on a regular basis after the rivers have flooded. Genius. That's what millions of tax payer money is spent on. Basically they're all sitting in their office eating donuts watching Sky News to see what's flooded before issuing a 'Flood warning', then calling the army to say, "Can you get us out of the shit boys we've fucked up."

It's been raining for fucking months. Surely they could forecast the rivers, water levels, drains getting too full to cope and flooding weeks ago. They seem to be about as accurate as a darts player with no arms. Rubbish.

The media are fucking loving it though aren't they? They love it when there is a huge problem. Sending their reporters in with Barbour jacket and wellies to film people canoeing around their village or abandoning their stranded cars. The bastards get a sick pleasure to see struggle. Makes for great tellie see. After all they have ratings to win. So the more they can poke their noses into people's misery the better.

Water is a vastly underrated power. When you get up close to the swollen Thames you can see the power of the current. It is relentless and there's very little that can be done. It is awesome and incredible to witness. Though if your house is under 8 foot of water I would doubt you would be marvelling at natural elements in such a way.

Is it only me though, that sometimes thinks, "You live by a river. What do you expect?" It's a little like moving next to a pub and then complaining of pissed people at 11pm. Perhaps that's a bit harsh.

Lets face it if you do buy a gaff by the Thames then you've probably got enough dosh to sort it once the flooding has gone down. If, of course, you have a home left.

I know, that's a sweeping generalisation and a tad too cynical but come on, how many vehicles have you seen abandoned in the floods that aren't a Mercedes, BMW or Audi coupe? It's a middle class disaster. Still, at least the wellies will actually come in handy.

That's probably why Cameron rocked up. He heard his second and third home were under threat. Side parton cunt.

Whilst it is awful and you feel for the poor sods who have had to abandon their homes it's not exactly life threatening is it? What about the floods in Bangladesh that killed thousands? I think that got 4 minutes coverage on the news a couple of years ago.

And what about the Japanese who lived through the Tsunami 4 years ago killing 40,000. They must be looking at the wall to wall coverage of the floods and think, "Pussies. Man up".

Having said all that if I was the one affected I wouldn't be taking such a cynical view. After all we are all in this together, so thoughts go out to all those Audi Coupe owners out there who have sadly lost their cars. My thoughts are with you.

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans

Day 40 - It's Easy to let up on Spiritual Actions

Over the past few days I have been writing lots about addiction/alcoholism/relapse and commentating on Philip Seymour Hoffman's death. I've enjoyed it and had some great feedback. However I have neglected to write about my daily journey.

After all, this blog was intended to be a daily musing of my journey to try and change certain harmful habits and behaviours.

I have been in full commentator 'guru' mode for the past few days. Offering commentary on situations, people and the disease like I have all the answers and am some kind of expert. I'm not. I realise that today. Sometimes my ego creeps up and runs away with me and I don't even know I'm doing it.

There's nothing worse than someone moralising on recovery when they are neglecting their own. So - where is my own?

I'm usually a '5 meetings a week man'. I like to hear the solution/identification to my spiritual and mental malady. It makes me feel better, lighter and like a reasonably normal human being. The 'commitee' in the head tends to quieten down and life is so much more fun.

Of course even doing all that sometimes I'm still a head-case, but in a good way. The habits and behavioural patterns are still a bit wonky but manageably so.

However in the past 10 days I've not done many meetings and I haven't been plugging in that much. Starting a new full on job has meant my focus and time has been on that. Trying to cram in a meeting here and there, do a little exercise, write the blog and spend time with my woman has meant my recovery has slipped.

Last week was a full week commuting in a new job. I did well. I enjoyed it and really put the time in. But all I did was 1 meeting.

So, this is what I'm like on 1 meeting. When I take my own will back and act on instinct.

Friday night. Leave work blow £300 on clothes for work in 20 Min's. Justify I need them for work and I deserve it because I've worked all week. Text my girlfriend some home truths about herself and justify it because I've worked all week

Leave my home meeting on Friday night early to go out and act a little crazy until 4am with my girlfriend and justify it because I've worked all week. Forget my evening meditation and justify it because I've been busy, I've worked all week.

Get up late on Saturday and do half arse exercise. Justify it because did I tell you, I've worked all week. Make a guest appearance at a meeting on Saturday night. More of a box ticking exercise as I feel obliged but not mentally connect with it and justify it because apparently I've worked all week. Then  act a little crazy again until late with girlfriend, eat shit and miss my evening meditation and go to bed late but justify it because as I said before, I've worked all week.

Get up late miss my meeting on Sunday morning (and gym/yoga) to write my blog but justify it because, yes you guessed it, I've worked all week. Go out for a great Sunday lunch, have a great time, come home and eat my own body weight in cake and ice cream on Sunday night, miss my evening meditation again and guzzle lots of diet coke and smoke lots of fags. Think to myself. Fuck. I've got to work all week. Spend 1 hour not justifying what I've done all weekend.

The result? I felt like shit this morning. It reminded me of all those working Monday's I would write off with a hangover from binge drinking at the weekend. I didn't like it. It's not exactly self care is it? Not much in the way of looking after myself. Old habits clearly die hard.

It affected my mood, my thoughts, my fear levels, my enthusiasm and the committee were in residence. It was only by getting to a meeting tonight, listening to a great chair (main speaker), hearing some simple spiritual actions, opening my mouth, telling the truth and connecting with the group did I think, "oh yeah that's what I need to do." And that's 12 years in recovery!!!

So what I'm saying is we are never cured. We merely have a daily reprieve based upon maintenance of my spiritual condition. I wasn't being too spiritual at 4am I can tell you!

It's OK of course. I'm not giving myself a hard time, nor am I catastrophising something into a bigger deal than it actually is.

It is very interesting though that I can easily put down these spiritual tools and act in old ways without realising it. I wonder if I did that unchecked without any meetings or a spiritual programme how long it would take me to go proper off the rails? That's not an experiment I'm keen to do, so it was good to be reminded tonight of what I am and what I need to do on a daily basis to be 'back on track'.

As it says, 'self knowledge availed us noting'. I learnt a valuable lesson in how true that is this weekend and it's great to be able to put some perspective on it. It's also great to be human and have a blast now and again without any real damage. We are not saints after all. Even though I feel like shit today I had a truck load of fun.

I just need to get out of my own way sometimes and keep it simple. Don't drink, go to meetings, plug in, share the truth, develop a spiritual connection and try not to eat Sainsbury's out of Rocky Road Ice Cream. That shit is like Crack cocaine.....

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans

Day 39 - Is Being sober and not going out dull?

If you would have said to me at 18 years old. "When you're 41 Nicholas, on a Saturday night, you will be sitting indoors, with your woman, sober, drinking tea, eating Jammie dodgers, watching TV and enjoying it." I would have replied, "Kill me now. What a boring bastard"

When you're 18 all you want to do is party. Saturday nights are mandatory to go out on the lash. And Friday, and any other night of the week come to think of it. The thought of not drinking, being sober was death by boredom.

So it begs the question is being sober boring? Does not going out make you dull?

I had an almost pathological need to go out. Inside was a great fear that I was boring if I didn't go out. Staying in confirmed it. I always thought I was missing out. Always needing to find the best bar, the best party. I needed to be in the mix.

I always aspired to the 'groovy gang' in pubs, clubs and bars. Always thinking if I fell in with a cool crowd it would sort my life out. Trouble is I always ended up in the Tooting Broadway Snooker Club. The coolest thing about that place was a 24 hour bar. Come to think of it the khazi was pretty chilly too.

I still pursued this illusion that if I went to all the right bars, pubs and clubs. If I drank. If I got off my face, It would mean I had an exciting life. It would mean I wasn't boring. It would mask all the problems inside right? Wrong!

Pursuing that is a waste of time. If you go to certain places or hang out with certain people it doesn't stop you being dull if you're dull. 'Going out' isn't a badge of honour to be interesting. It just means you go to more expensive places, spend more money on more expensive drinks and meet other superficial people who are equally as concerned as being seen in all the right places wearing all the right clothes to maintain the image of coolness and excitement. It's generally an illusion.

If you're dull you're dull. If your boring, you're boring. No matter if your at home or in the Sky bar at the Hilton Park Lane. It's inside what, not where you go, what you wear or what you do. It took me a long time to understand that.

I'm not tarring everyone with that brush. Millions of people go out. Going out, socially drinking and taking drugs is fun. For people without addiction problems it's normal and I encourage it. It's a release from normal life. It's good to have fun!!!

I'm just highlighting the people (and I include myself in this) who did it to mask and cover up internal feelings of low self esteem and the fear of being boring. Being unhappy. That's when it becomes a sham. I hate superficiality. Drives me insane.

By end of my drinking I felt far more comfortable in proper old fashioned male drinking arenas called 'the traditional pub'. Otherwise known as shit holes. These were theme bars for alcoholism. No juke box, no food, no entertainment, no soft furnishings, posh nuts or quiz night. Just men drinking on their own in silence. Miserable and alone. Perfect!

In early sobriety, weekend's were awful. The hours on Friday and Saturday night's felt like weeks, Passing slowly and painfully. It felt like the world had ended. It was officially the end of fun as I knew it. No more drinking. No more blackouts, arrests, hospitalisations, scars, arguments, hangovers and all the other great stuff I would enjoy about my drinking. No more adventure!

Your mind would say, "everyone in the world is out having fun, except for me." It was Painful.

"I'm going to have to sit around in draughty church halls on a Friday and Saturday night forever. My life is over", was the common thought in my early days of AA. "I will NEVER go out again."

Old attitudes died hard. I still felt the compulsion to go out. The urge to drink, go out and cause mayhem was intense. But by going to meetings continually, sharing I hated them and felt lonely and that my life was over, whilst the old timers smirked knowingly at the back, helped to let those feelings go.

I would walk back from meetings at 11pm and see the full truth of what a Friday or Saturday Night looked like when on the piss.

Pissed People looked like zombies, fights, shouting at each other, puking up, pissing in doorways, fat couples snogging. Carnage. You look at any town centre at the weekend and it's all the same. I wasn't missing out. If you go to posh places it's exactly the same, except it's people with bigger sofas.

I distinctly remember the turning point. Where I thought it's OK not to go out. It was Friday night. I was 18 months sober. I was in  Homebase and walking around looking for a lamp. It was 9pm. The music on the tannoy was playing Roy Orbison's 'I drove all night'. I found myself humming along, looking at lamps on a Friday night in Homebase, sober. I laughed, thought, 'It's OK not to go out and be sober', smiled at the insanity and felt good. It's OK to be sober.

Another turning point was snogging a world famous female at her house late one Friday night after a meeting. I thought to myself, 'this never happened In Tooting Broadway Snooker Club when I was drinking." Sobriety is not dull.

The thing I like about sobriety is that by nature I am a raging alcoholic lunatic on the inside. Now that I am 12 years sober Most people know me as a reasonably sensible sober man. I don't get arrested, lose phones, end up in fights, abuse people, get beaten up. I don't go to loads of bars, pubs and clubs. I don't drink or use drugs. I am the sort of person I would have classified as 'boring' when I was 18.

But that's what I love about sober alcoholics. Because underneath I am a nutcase. Sometimes it's a little frustrating when you go out and people ask you if you drink, you say 'no' and you can see them lose interest in you immediately. Classifying you as 'boring'.

There is a difference between tea-totallers and recovering alcoholics. The general attitude to people who don't drink is 'don't trust them'! Puritanical! Do gooders! Morally superior! Boring! If only they know. Christ a few hours with me drinking and those people would be thinking, 'fuck me he needs to go to AA'.

The bottom line is sobriety is not dull. People are dull. I used drink and drug because I thought I was dull. I thought it made me less dull. Make sense? I've found out in sobriety I am not dull. I've been though everything you can imagine to try and prove to myself I'm not dull. From chasing women, swinging, sex, fetish, marathons, endurance sports, water sports (wink wink)

Now I've come to the realisation It's not what you do that makes your life exciting it's YOU that makes your life exciting. Whether you go out or not. It's Inside what counts.

Yes of course I get lazy and can't be arsed to go out. Sometimes I'm not very sociable and need to force myself to get out there and have fun. But now I know I can do it for the right reasons and I don't need a badge of honour or VIP access to a club to boost my ego.

How attitudes change. That's why sitting down last night with a Jammie Dodger and cup of tea watching TV, sober on a Saturday night was OK. I enjoyed it. Mind you it helped having wild sexy time with my girlfriend earlier in the evening. That always helps a Saturday night go so much better and makes the Jammie Dodger taste all the more better. (Too much information and she'll bloody kill me for sharing it with you)

Sober is Not Dull!

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans





 How attitudes change. I enjoyed it. I mean who wouldn't enjoy a Jammie Dodger and cup of tea?

Day 38 - The funeral of Philip Seymour Hoffman and Relapse

Yesterday was Philip Seymour Hoffman's funeral which triggered a few things in my mind.

Firstly,  the media's reporting of the funeral.  Most reports listed the famous Hollywood stars in attendance. His ex partner and children were shunted down to fourth paragraph of importance. His parents, family and other friends weren't even mentioned. This kind of reporting frustrates me. I know it is the norm but the 'celebrity' obsession culture borders on the obscene sometimes.

It has sparked a number of interesting pieces though. No more so than  Russell Brand's in Friday's Guardian. Essentially blaming the archaic drug laws for the death.....I suggest you take a read. He makes some valid points.

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/feb/06/russell-brand-philip-seymour-hoffman-drug-laws

Secondly, and on a similar topic I notice that 4 people have been arrested for supplying the actor with the drugs that he OD'd on. Do we really think that's solving the problem? Arresting people who are addicts themselves for supplying another addict. It's Crazy. Not exactly addressing the heart of the problem is it?

Heroin is a drug just like alcohol. Except Alcohol is a socially and morally acceptable legal drug. But arresting Heroin dealers is no different to arresting a landlord for supplying alcohol. It's insane. Why criminalise one drug and not another? If it was criminalised then the quality would be regulated, proper treatment programmes could be installed and it would save authorities around £500 billion a year on prisons, hospitals, courts.

I won't go on as The Brand covered most of it in his article but surely we have to shift our mind set on this. Why is it considered morally wrong to supply Heroin and not alcohol? Why legalise one drug and not another? Why demonise drugs as wrong and 'we must save our kids from them', whilst taking more anti-depressants, pain killers, prescribed medication and drinking more than ever before. That's insanity and hypocrisy on a global level.

If we really want to be open and true about it. How many drugs will you be using today? Painkiller because you're hungover? Smoking some cigarettes? Going out for lunch or dinner with a nice bottle of wine? A few beers tonight. A couple of cheeky lines at a party? Is there any real difference other than what society terms to be legal and non legal. Think about it. We are on dangerously thin moral ground when we trade one drug off against another because the system tells us too.

Thirdly it has made the concept of relapse buzz around my head. According to reports Hoffman was 23 years sober and clean from drugs and alcohol before suffering a 'relapse' last May. To most people who do not suffer with alcohol/drug problems or know little (or want to know little) about the 'disease'. The concept of drinking or using drugs being termed a relapse must be peculiar.

Lets take a look at what it means;

A relapse or recidivism is a recurrence of a past (typically medical) condition. Relapse, in relation to drug misuse, is resuming the use of a drug or a chemical substance after one or more periods of abstinence.

Essentially, old timers prefer the normal human language of 'started drinking or taking drugs again. Some prefer to call it 'using'. Others 'relapse'. Whatever floats your boat I guess. But in simple terms if you believe in the concept of drink or drug addiction as a disease and not a choice, then relapse can happen at any time.

I suppose most people will ask why? Why when someone has it so good would they go back to the very thing that caused them to want to stop in the first place. It makes no sense right?

I have been sober for 12 years and still require daily help to not go back to drink or drugs because I have a disease within me that means my brain functions in different ways to most 'normal' people. I am wired up differently. Not in a better or superior or inferior way. Just different. I don't have an 'stop' button when I ingest things I like.

Most recreational drinkers or drug takers do it because it's fun. We like the feeling right? Well what happens when you like the feeling so much. You want more and more and more? That's addiction right there. There is no control over taking it. That's the physical side of it. The phenomenon of craving. You must have that drink, or drug, or food, or sex, or woman or coat. And the brain will not rest until you have sated the craving. For 5 or 110 or 1000 minutes until it comes back again and again. That is the cycle of addiction.

Then you add the mental side. Your brain, personality, thoughts are wired up to max out on self pity, grandiosity, fear, worry, anger, self obsession. All normal human traits but addicts have them in bundles which makes living life, 'with your head' difficult. Hence using drink or drugs or whatever as a means of controlling them. A vicious circle because all it does it make it worse.

That is why abstinence and serious work on ourselves is required. On a daily basis. It never goes. You cant stop for 6 weeks do some work and then stay sober and happy forever. The wiring in the head remains you just have to manage it on a daily basis and learn to do things differently and accept it is there. A spiritual shift that must be nurtured regularly.

If not then you can go back to old ways very quickly. The old thinking can return. The head can take over and suddenly you find yourself craving drink and drugs again. If this continues for a while without any help or assistance. Then it's a matter of time for relapse to happen. Make sense to you?

I admit at certain points in my sobriety, when things have been going well and haven't ever thought alcohol would ever pass my lips again. I have watched serial relapsers or people who cannot stay sober with an inverted bewilderment. A detached air of superiority.

Thoughts like 'That's because they are not working a programme, they don't want it, they are in their disease', passed my mind.  I realise that's not right. It's separating me from them and makes me no different to all the other morally superior creatures. It's not right and recently I have really pulled myself up about it.

Why? Because it could happen to me. Just because I have 12 years it doesn't make me immune to all the thoughts and behaviours of the mental disease. I just haven't actually used a substance or alcohol to act out. I could go back to drinking at any stage. Thoughts of taking drugs have entered my head many times over the past few weeks/years.

'I'm thinner now. I look different. It would be much more fun now. I missed out", all these thongs go through my mind. Even though I am armed with the facts I am a total addict in most things. That I cannot stop at one of anything. Even though I witness the destruction of the disease every day. Even though I know it's a killer and destroys people, I still toy with the idea. Insanity.

That's the subtlety and power of this disease. It will tap away at you telling you, you haven't got it, that you could 'have a couple', that it would be 'different this time' and most harmfully of all, 'your not as bad as them'. Thinking the dead ones had it worse than you.

How insane is that? You don't just go straight into death. It takes time.

For instance Hoffman relapsed on prescription pain killers. Then weed, then cocaine, then heroin and then bang he's dead. The process took a year. When the disease accelerates the individual has no chance. You literally cannot get the stuff quickly enough into your body. More and more and more until you are lost in the disease. That is the true nature of the disease. It has won then.

So how insane is it that my head still considers it, that my head still craves it, that my mind wanders towards it sometimes. We are never cured if it, we simply have a daily reprieve. That's why all those clever old timer bastards kept telling me, 'it's just for today Nick. Keep it simple. One day at a time'. They knew the score alright, that's why they kept telling me, 'stay out of your head, it's a bad neigbourhood'. Or my personal favourite 'don't go in there without an adult because a lunatic lives in there'. How right they were.

RIP PSH. Your death will not be in vain.

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Edward Evans

Day 37 - A Rather large attack of low self esteem

It happened around midday. I was at work. My new work. Work that offers great potential and opportunity. Work I have been offered because they obviously believe I can deliver. Work I am qualified and experienced to do. Work I can and will enjoy doing.

Yet why is it at midday I suddenly thought to myself, "Fuck me I'll never be able to do this. Surely they'll find out I'm a fraud soon. I'm not good enough."

I know most people don't like work. I get that. I've written about it in the past. I even criticised where I worked in the City before, which probably lost me my job. "Today I updated the business card database. Kill me now."

But this time it's not the job, or the organisation because it's all superb. The people are superb, the job is superb. It's all groovy. What wasn't superb today was my head.

Now in the past I've hated the thought of commuting. I hated the thought of being chained to a desk 8 hours a day. I hated being packed on a train like a sardine sniffing the armpit of a badly dressed man all the way into London. I hated seeing the throngs of people miserably walking over Waterloo bridge on their way into a job they only do in order to spend a few hours in the evening and weekend doing the stuff they have to work all week to be able to barely afford to do.

I had all that in the past. That was my attitude. Not today.

Today I was one of the plankton on Waterloo Bridge and I didn't mind. I didn't mind going into the office one bit. Didn't mind Going to work. I'm lucky to have the job for Gawds sake!! As I said the work is good. I just had a major attack of self doubt and low self esteem at lunchtime.

It doesn't really matter what brought it on. Circumstance. Childhood. Long held beliefs. Old behaviours. Old thinking. Alcoholism. Lack of meetings. My girlfriend not being adoring enough. Realisation I have taken on a big grown up job.  Could be a number of things.

What matters is what I did about it. Did I curl up on the floor and start crying? No - that wouldn't look cool on day 4 in the new office. Did I start deflecting my inner pain and start putting others down. No, again not cool on day 4 or indeed any other day. Did I immediately nip out and down 4 shots of vodka? No because I'm a recovering alcoholic and 12 years sober.

What I did was nothing. I felt uncomfortable. I felt slightly needy on something or someone to fill up the self doubt. I tried 6 silk cut and 2 bottles of diet coke. Didn't work. I tried 4 cups of tea. Didn't work. I tried texting some sex chat to my girlfriend. She was busy. Didn't work. I tried calling someone. It did work. For 5 mins then the head came back.

So I just got on with work, did what I had to do, drove to a black tie dinner, sat in Tube Strike traffic for 2 hours, got to the dinner late, sat next to a guy who was now clean and sober for 3 years from heavy coke addiction and the most ultra positive man in the world and chewed the fat for a few hours. I had a laugh, networked my little Beckham looking ass off and got home at 12.30am.

I feel OK. The negative voice that was so loud earlier has now quietened to a feint little one at the back of my head.

Basically I'm saying it's OK to have doubts. I have heard editor's of national newspapers, people in positions of power saying, 'I'm still waiting to be found out'. It's quite common apparently.

So it's OK. They aren't real and eventually pass. It's only a feeling. I just found it odd that it came on when I woke up feeling so good. That little self esteem can fluctuate at any time. My job is not to act out on it. Simple

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans

Day 36 - Tube Strike, Rediscovering Coaching & Not Listenining to the Inner Voice

A quick run down of today's main points;

Tube Strike

I'm not going to go into the big political in and outs. We'll leave that to the big dogs. I actually had a decent journey. Overland to Waterloo and then a very pleasant walk over Waterloo Bridge, observing some iconic London landmarks.

The throng of people trudging their way to work was like a pilgrimage. Not a pilgrimage to holy land but to Pret a Mange and an office. There were thousands of us. Trudging our way to unhappy destiny. I meditated and listened to chanting on my phone so I actually enjoyed the walk. I got to see the Eye, Houses of Parliament, Cityscape and many other landmarks. Plus I got to smoke 4 silk cuts, so nice one Bob Crowe. Same again tomorrow please.

I did get slightly resentful on the packed train though when a really small little prim Rottweiler of a woman, dripping in gold and bad taste, barged on the train and then invaded the 3 inches of space I had maneuvered for myself by the door. She didn't ask, didn't acknowledge , she just barged, tutted and looked all sarky when challenged. As if the space was her Divine right. I let it go and smiled at her, even though inside my head was thinking, 'Argos Bitch', (reference to her jewellery) Fuck off the train back to Primark." She clearly had lofty thoughts of self importance, though clearly I wasn't resentfully judging. I'm so open minded. Argos Cunt.

The feeling on the street was one of intensity. You could feel the stress and general resentment of the tube closures. People were ready to blow.

It did on the way home. As I walked down Aldwych, I saw a cyclist and pedestrian locked in an angry showdown. They had hold of each other's coats and were trading insults. All in the road holding up buses and cars. It was brilliant and ironically it was right in front of a theatre. 'Fuck the play watch these two spunk bubbles,' I thought.

The pedestrian was shouting, 'you were cycling aggressively', the cyclist returning with, 'fuck of you fucking cunt'. It was clear who was the aggressor in this dynamic. The cars beeped, causing both to turn round and tell the cars to 'fuck off'. It was a sweet moment of insane angry solidarity as they forgot they were fighting each other to tell a large metal object with no personality to fuck off. I laughed.

They carried on wrestling with each other before I gave up and walked on. It would have been a menacing sight if the cyclist hadn't have been swearing at the pedestrian with one of those flashing lights on his helmet. it was like abuse in Morse code. Plus the pedestrian, a middle aged man had one of those Bart Simpson joke ties, so you couldn't take his abuse seriously. In all honesty they both deserved to be run over. Two less knob-heads to worry about tomorrow.

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I did a module of my recovery coaching tonight online. The group gathered via a conference seminar on Skype to discuss emotions and coaching. I have to admit, since doing the course 2 weeks ago I haven't looked at any of the course and it has gone out of my head. I have been concentrating on my new job and investment offer. It took a back seat.

I didn't want to do it and my mind looked for every reason not too. In the end I reluctantly logged on an listened. It was great. It reconnected me, revitalised me and made me realise how utterly alien it is to me. They did a demo coaching session on someone and I spent the entire time listening, itching for them to delve into the reasons why that person was behaving in the way they did and to get under the bonnet and really dig. Instead the coaching way in terms of the subtle pace, the listening, the time and patience showed by the coach, use of open questions, powerful questions really opened up my mind to particular ways you can really challenge people but in a subtle and loving way.

It was a real eye opener and I came off the session buzzing. Note to self. When I live in my own head and start listening to myself that is when I get into problems. If I would had listened to my inner voice I would not have done the session. I would have told myself, "You're tired, you've had a full day, this new job is a lot to learn, don't do the seminar, catch up and listen at the weekend'.

Then I would have sat around thinking, in my head. Instead I didn't listen to the inner voice, I did the session and it gave me a real physical and spiritual boost. A change of energy within me. I truly believe these kind of things in whatever form really affect the energy flow of us as humans.

When I am locked in my own thinking all day how could that not have an effect on my energy? Think about it. What happens when you are around negative people? you get negative right. What happens when you are around positive 'up' people? You feel brighter and lighter right. So what happens if this applies to us?

When I am in my head all day and the head is critical/ negative and you add difficult life circumstances then it doesn't take a rocket scientist to work out it will drain you of energy and feeling good. So why is it that I can't see this in myself? I nearly listened to this thinking tonight. The result would have been 'same as before'.

So I will celebrate I didn't give into the inner critic and I do the opposite of what my head was saying. The result? I got fed and nourished by outside forces and felt re-energised. It was great and re-motivated me to do the coaching. (long term)

I do need a guinea pig to practice on for an hour a week on the phone though. Any takers out there?

Perhaps you listen to your inner critic too. I can vouch from personal experience. Getting out of your head in a healthy way and engaging with something positive and fresh can re energise and help you along the way, My problem is that my head usually resets back to 'negative warp factor 11 by the time I wake up tomorrow. Still, it's just for today right. And right now I feel pretty good.

Together We Are Stronger

Nicholas Evans