I'm a late starter. So before I lay claim to knowing the secret to having a happy long term relationship, let me just put in a disclaimer.
I am 43, I have never been married, I have no children and have pretty much avoided settling down and committing to a long term relationship or marriage most of my adult life. But why let small details like that get in the way of passing on some killer tips?!
I have been in love of course, only around 35 times, but I've also had 4 long term relationships, however these seemed to end around the 3 year mark. Why? Well, a host of reasons. Fear of commitment, abandonment issues as a child, coming from an alcoholic home, seeing parents split up when young, becoming a fully blown sex and love addict or just hidden fear. Perhaps I haven't been ready, or met the right woman at the right time, or maybe I just haven't wanted it.
Whatever the reasons I admit, I'm not exactly coming from a position of strength here when it comes to passing on expert tips and guidance as to what makes a happy long term relationship.
So, I basically get all my life lessons from my 25 year old neice. She is much wiser and more grown up than me. She's married over a year, has a two 2 week old baby, a lovely little flat in SE London, a deep faith in God and a strong family unit. All the things I have shied away from instwad seeking a life of pure self centred pleasurable hedonistic fun.
Spending time with her and her little daughter (My Great Neice) recently has been fun and enlightening. Yesterday we stumbled upon the secret to a happy long term relationship and it's not what you think it would be. I had to share it with you.
She has a beautiful porcelain sculpted soap dispenser. It is white and shiny with silver trimming. As far as soap dispensers go it is in the Premier League. We're talking £40-50 here. None of this 'Everything Under £1 shit. It's proper quality.
However, hubby likes to have the soap dispenser on the sink by the taps for maximum ease. Most men will wholeheartedly agree with this set up. The trouble is the sink has trim around the bowl which makes the surface uneven. This causes the soap dispenser to fall into the sink. It refuses to stay upright for longer than 10 minutes.
Therefore wifey kept putting the dispenser on the ledge well above the sink. Safe and secure. The trouble was hubby complained that it was too far away from the tap and 'just not the way it should be'. Every man wants to have minimal effort at any time and will all agree that soap needs to be by the tap. You don't want to be fucking around trying to place soap on your hands 10metres above sink level when washing your hands. It can cause men to have a melt down.
The couple debated this for weeks. Back and forth the argument went. Sometimes wifey would go into the bathroom to find it precariously placed on the sink. Then hubby would go in to see it stand proud and secure on the ledge. Stalemate.
Then one day, hubby came back with a large plastic hand soap dispenser. 99p from Poundland. He placed it on the sink and returned the beautiful porcelain holder back on the ledge. Both were happy. Both got what they want. OK granted the 99p thing was horrific but they both did their job.
After hearing this story I visited the bathroom to inspect both said items and agreed with the hubby that a man had to have soap by the tap, but I was forced to concede the porcelain dispenser was indeed beautiful and looked good on the ledge, however this was not practical for a man. It's not too bad for a woman because they are used to fucking around for hours in the bathroom. Men will only spend considerable time on the toilet. The shitter is his sanctuary where he does most of his thinking time, so hand washing needs to be done as quickly as possible.
The moral of the tale and clearly the secret to a happy long term relationship is 2 soap dispensers. Compromise and solution. Both parties need to be happy in order to flourish and grow.
There is no point in one partner putting up with something only to harbour a secret resentment. Both need to have their thing within a union for it to prosper and grow. Whether it be soap dispensers or anything else.
I know of course in time the 99p thing will go and wifey will have her way. People who have been married 10 years + will be nodding their head to this. Husbands will laugh at newlywed men getting equal billing. 'You just wait my son', you can hear them mutter, 'if you want a quiet life you'll give in.'
I'm picking up so many useful tips for when I finally get hitched. It's so useful. I cant wait for the battle of the bathroom!
The final word comes from a couple who have been married for over 50 years. 30 of it has been spent living on a boat without one argument. When interviewed they were asked, "what is the secret for being together so long and getting on so well?" The husband cut in and relied. "It's simple. I can answer that in two words." "What are they?" Asked the interviewer. "Yes dear" replied the husband and they both started laughing.
Wise words indeed and apparently they had two soap dispensers.
Love and peace
Nicholas Edward Evans
Wednesday, March 16, 2016
Tuesday, March 15, 2016
Thought of The Day - Change
Thought For The Day
Be The Change
I don't usually go in for these kind of messages. You know the ones. Inspirational quotes placed on a backdrop of a beach, landscape or some kind of famous figure. Wanky isn't it? And there are so many. Don't get me wrong, some of course are good - that Ghandi or Einstein were pretty profound dudes, but like anything these days when it becomes a marketing ploy, it dumbs down the profound impact, loses the intellectual stimulate and forces us to become jaded and cynical.
I'm more of a 'show me don't tell me' kind of a guy. It's easy for us to paint pictures of inspiration or spiritual greatness on social media whilst behaving like a total self centred egotistical dick in real life. With clever packaging you can make the image so much deeper and richer than the actual reality. I suppose that's the way of modern times. Spin, image, soundbite, 'digital footprint' are all important in creating an image and brand. I should try it some day!
I saw the above image posted on my friend's Facebook profile today and really liked it.
1 - because it's placed on an Underground sign at Tooting.
2 - because someone has gone to the trouble of trying to make the day lighter and more thoughtful for commuters (and himself) and
3 - It's a straight to the point non bullshit statement which happens to be true.
It certainly made me think. Did you? Ringing close to home which is always the hallmark of a good statement. Challenging you and making you feel something. Sometimes I am so wrapped up in the result or end product, I forget about the process to get there. Sometimes I sit and want change so much I miss the point it is an actionable energy not just a thought.
We may have goals, objectives or visions, whatever you may call them. Lose weight, run a marathon, earn £250k, buy a house, have a kid, get a new job, write that novel. It's great to have dreams or goals but how many of us simply focus on that end result without having the slightest clue how to get there?
How many of us have wanted change in our lives? Job, habits, smoking, relationships, finances, drinking or whatever it maybe. Change is easy to want but hard to action in my experience. It's when you do make changes that the gold really comes. It creates an unstoppable momentum and energy that is so positive that results become a by product of it.
According to the quote (who is Jack Nixon by the way? He's officially my favourite person now) - If we focus on the result we never change, but if we focus on the change the result will come.
I love it. It's simple, concise and so accurate. I'm a believer.
The trouble with focusing on a result is you forget the journey. If it's as simple as losing weight for instance. Let's say 2 stone and you pin up your target weight on the fridge, tell everyone and then think ,Ok how do I do it? How do I actually change my diet, eating, exercise, life, patterns of behaviour to get to my target weight. How do I get that result?
Hard isn't it? Overwhelming at times. Probably why there are so many self help books, therapists and counsellors. What about the quick fix 'fat burning' or 'slimming industry'. All aimed at results based people. Mostly based on fear or shame. They miss the point.
What if we turned it on it's head like the statement. What happens if we concentrated on the change first? Yes of course it's good to have a goal in mind, but if we concentrated on trying to change our patterns, processes and procedures wouldn't the weight come off anyway?
What about if we made an effort to eat a particular way. We got up and exercised within 2 hours of waking 5 days a week. What if we employed a coach or fitness expert? Or joined a class and went. Or even we cut one thing from our diet we knew was doing us harm? All of these are either small or massive changes we are effecting. By doing this we will probably lose weight. We will probably start to feel better about ourselves and if that happens it will give us more incentive to carry on and make more changes. It creates that energy and momentum.
I have experienced this process. I have seen friends go through it. A mate of mine recently lost a lot of weight over a period of a year. I looked at his journey with fascination. Firstly he was more focused on the result than the change. Then when he got into the process more and made small changes he reached the tipping point. He had lost so much weight it made him feel great so it super motivated him to make more changes. The momentum changed.
The end result was massive weight loss and him feeling so excited to get into a normal suit. It was a by product of his changes and fundaemental shift in attitude and energy. The result just happened almost as a by product of the changes.
Does the mind come before change or does change come before the mind?
Fuck knows if i'm honest. All I know is it's good to have both. But if one is playing silly buggers don't let it win. If the mind says 'don't go out and run this morning'. Have 'smart feet' and get out there. The head will eventually catch up. Positive action leads to positive thinking in my experience.
The point is don't post up a picuture of a yacht or car as your ultimate goal and expect to get there, simply ask yourself 'what am I doing today to take me closer to my dream and what do I need to change to get there."
If you have that level of self honesty you are already half way there and actually trying change is a positive action whereas focusing on a result is not an action. It is a desire and that's OK. But as we know faith without works is dead. It's in action the energy shifts and all kind of remarkable things follow and we get a 'result'. Change is an action. Its a doing thing. A result is an end goal. A finality. It's not an action it's an inaction.
So thank you Jack Nixon for the thought for the day I really enjoyed it and I don't usually say that about TFL, you are today's magnificent bastard and I salute you.
Nicholas Edward Evans
Sunday, March 6, 2016
A Mothers Day Letter
Dear Mum (and all other Mother's out there)
Some people aren't fortunate to have mothers. Some lost them when they were young, some didn't have one at all. Others have lost them more recently or have ones who are selfish and unkind.
Luckily I have you.
Mothers are easily taken for granted. When you are a child you think Mums are everything. Your nurse, your teacher, your bank, your cook, your cleaner, your taxi. You literally did everything for me and made it look so effortless.
I can remember so many times when I was ill and you stroked my hair or just to hear the words 'oh my darling' made me feel better. Your chocolate cake was superb, even better when I got to lick the bowl out (no dirty jokes from me at this point) you made every Christmas and birthday memorable, were always available, maternal, caring and nourishing and I consider myself to have nothing but great memories of being a child. Apart from the cleaning.
Then the dreaded teenage years. As a boy you obviously are embarrassed by your mum. Wanting to rebel and do boys things. These are difficult years but you always provided, gave me food, money and love. You ignored the stash of adult mags under my bed and never complained about rizlas in my desk draw.
Obviously having an alcoholic husband/Dad didn't help. Such difficult times that only now, 14 years into recovery and as an adult do I appreciate and understand fully.
You had to raise 2 children single handedly, you had to buy a house, give up on your dreams with your own clothes shop, get a sales job, provide, fight and do it all on your own. Remarkable. You had to be both parents as one.
You never seemed to moan, you never seemed to be down, you never did self pity. You were relentless and always available, interested and strong. What a fucking powerhouse!
I remember you teaching me how to drive. Trying to teach a 17 year old know it all like me anything must have been challenging;
"slow down darling, this is a 40 MPH speed limit."
"I'm going the speed of the road Mum!" ( I was doing 65mph)
Mum's show limitless patience, understanding and compassion when sometimes you must want to throttle your little shits of children.
You provided for me all throughout University, securing a grant for me that I shamefully and ungratefully spent on Colt 45 and Gin. Sorry!
You have been there throughout my adult years. Throughout every relationship (and there have been a few) and you have always been there for the whole family.
You cared for your mum for years. Every Christmas without fail you showed up for Nan. You cared for her until the end. Your sense of right and duty is impeccable. Strong family values that you never give up on.
Everyone who has met you, from my friends, colleagues, comedy club regulars, AA folk and girlfriends all say the same thing;
"Isn't your mum lovely. You're so lucky to have her." I am.
I'm not going to lie at certain points throughout my life I have taken that love and care for granted. But I am lucky. I know that.
Losing a father when a boy is young is hard. You worked so hard to replace that. I think you felt a sense of guilt or shame or remorse so you worked yourself into the ground so it wouldn't have an impact. Well, let me say this. Nothing can replace a father. Nothing can replace that male bond or role model, it wasn't and isn't your job to replace him and you needn't have felt guilty.
You more than made up. You more than did your best. I never went short, I always got what I wanted (apart from a BMX with Whitewall tyres and mushroom grips I had to make do with Halfords - oh wo with me) - We never really noticed and that it is to your eternal credit.
You have done more than your share and continue to do it. If I ever get my act together (I know I'm knocking on a bit at 43 to give you a grandchild) and become half the parent you have been I would have been doing well.
You've had your knocks. You've had your hardships. Cancer, Addiction, alcoholism and mental illness has had a debilitating effect on the family but you still stand strong. A 5ft 5 matriarch. A tower of strength and spirit. A wonderful generous, warm, caring person whom everyone loves. (In fact all of my exes are your friends and regularly call for a chat. They all love you)
You are a Mum's Mum. I've always said you should open up a business called Rentamum.com for people who don't have Mum's or who cant talk openly to theirs. You are always ready to listen and chat. I know I can tell you anything (well somethings I won't of course)
It's only when you become an adult that you realise Mum's are people in their own right. You have your own feelings, dreams, aspirations. Something you just don't realise when young.
Being a Mum or a parent isn't something you learn from a rulebook. Some are good and some not so, but nearly all do their best. I'm just lucky I have a warm, caring and generous one like you.
Yes, I'm not going to lie, sometimes the flashy, charismatic, alcoholic father is headline grabbing as a role model to a young boy. Boy's want to be their Dad/s and daughters their mothers. But as I've got older I have come to realise that most women are stronger than us bullshiter males and behind every man probably lies a greater woman. You have remarkable strengths that you underplay and are somewhat underestimated.
So today is a day dedicated for mothers. But like any day that's become commercialised it's not just about one day is it? It's about every day. To learn and appreciate what has been passed down to me and given to me. To appreciate you.
For new mothers experiencing it for the first time it must be such a joy, for older mother's with grown up children looking at a new generation of grandchildren it must be such a wonderful feeling to sit back, look at the new-born and new mothers, see their excitement and wonder and think, "thank Christ all mine are grown up"
For single mothers out there I salute you. For people who have recently lost their mother's I hug you. For those of you with mothers who are horrors I console you.
All that remains to be said is that I have a wonderful mother. She is kind and considerate, generous with time and money and always interested in you sometimes to the detriment of herself. She would rather see you go with and her without than the other way round.
If you are reading this and need a little motherly love, she goes out at a tenner for a quick phone call, £25 for a Skype session, £50 for Sunday lunch, £75 for a one to one sit down and chat 'with a nice cup of tea and a biscuit', £100 for a graduation, £150 to meet the new in-laws and £200 for a wedding. Bargain i'd say.
You are the best Mum, but then again we all say that to ours don't we? But you really are.
Love you very much and all mothers out there have a marvellous day
Nicholas Edward Evans
Some people aren't fortunate to have mothers. Some lost them when they were young, some didn't have one at all. Others have lost them more recently or have ones who are selfish and unkind.
Luckily I have you.
Mothers are easily taken for granted. When you are a child you think Mums are everything. Your nurse, your teacher, your bank, your cook, your cleaner, your taxi. You literally did everything for me and made it look so effortless.
I can remember so many times when I was ill and you stroked my hair or just to hear the words 'oh my darling' made me feel better. Your chocolate cake was superb, even better when I got to lick the bowl out (no dirty jokes from me at this point) you made every Christmas and birthday memorable, were always available, maternal, caring and nourishing and I consider myself to have nothing but great memories of being a child. Apart from the cleaning.
Then the dreaded teenage years. As a boy you obviously are embarrassed by your mum. Wanting to rebel and do boys things. These are difficult years but you always provided, gave me food, money and love. You ignored the stash of adult mags under my bed and never complained about rizlas in my desk draw.
Obviously having an alcoholic husband/Dad didn't help. Such difficult times that only now, 14 years into recovery and as an adult do I appreciate and understand fully.
You had to raise 2 children single handedly, you had to buy a house, give up on your dreams with your own clothes shop, get a sales job, provide, fight and do it all on your own. Remarkable. You had to be both parents as one.
You never seemed to moan, you never seemed to be down, you never did self pity. You were relentless and always available, interested and strong. What a fucking powerhouse!
I remember you teaching me how to drive. Trying to teach a 17 year old know it all like me anything must have been challenging;
"slow down darling, this is a 40 MPH speed limit."
"I'm going the speed of the road Mum!" ( I was doing 65mph)
Mum's show limitless patience, understanding and compassion when sometimes you must want to throttle your little shits of children.
You provided for me all throughout University, securing a grant for me that I shamefully and ungratefully spent on Colt 45 and Gin. Sorry!
You have been there throughout my adult years. Throughout every relationship (and there have been a few) and you have always been there for the whole family.
You cared for your mum for years. Every Christmas without fail you showed up for Nan. You cared for her until the end. Your sense of right and duty is impeccable. Strong family values that you never give up on.
Everyone who has met you, from my friends, colleagues, comedy club regulars, AA folk and girlfriends all say the same thing;
"Isn't your mum lovely. You're so lucky to have her." I am.
I'm not going to lie at certain points throughout my life I have taken that love and care for granted. But I am lucky. I know that.
Losing a father when a boy is young is hard. You worked so hard to replace that. I think you felt a sense of guilt or shame or remorse so you worked yourself into the ground so it wouldn't have an impact. Well, let me say this. Nothing can replace a father. Nothing can replace that male bond or role model, it wasn't and isn't your job to replace him and you needn't have felt guilty.
You more than made up. You more than did your best. I never went short, I always got what I wanted (apart from a BMX with Whitewall tyres and mushroom grips I had to make do with Halfords - oh wo with me) - We never really noticed and that it is to your eternal credit.
You have done more than your share and continue to do it. If I ever get my act together (I know I'm knocking on a bit at 43 to give you a grandchild) and become half the parent you have been I would have been doing well.
You've had your knocks. You've had your hardships. Cancer, Addiction, alcoholism and mental illness has had a debilitating effect on the family but you still stand strong. A 5ft 5 matriarch. A tower of strength and spirit. A wonderful generous, warm, caring person whom everyone loves. (In fact all of my exes are your friends and regularly call for a chat. They all love you)
You are a Mum's Mum. I've always said you should open up a business called Rentamum.com for people who don't have Mum's or who cant talk openly to theirs. You are always ready to listen and chat. I know I can tell you anything (well somethings I won't of course)
It's only when you become an adult that you realise Mum's are people in their own right. You have your own feelings, dreams, aspirations. Something you just don't realise when young.
Being a Mum or a parent isn't something you learn from a rulebook. Some are good and some not so, but nearly all do their best. I'm just lucky I have a warm, caring and generous one like you.
Yes, I'm not going to lie, sometimes the flashy, charismatic, alcoholic father is headline grabbing as a role model to a young boy. Boy's want to be their Dad/s and daughters their mothers. But as I've got older I have come to realise that most women are stronger than us bullshiter males and behind every man probably lies a greater woman. You have remarkable strengths that you underplay and are somewhat underestimated.
So today is a day dedicated for mothers. But like any day that's become commercialised it's not just about one day is it? It's about every day. To learn and appreciate what has been passed down to me and given to me. To appreciate you.
For new mothers experiencing it for the first time it must be such a joy, for older mother's with grown up children looking at a new generation of grandchildren it must be such a wonderful feeling to sit back, look at the new-born and new mothers, see their excitement and wonder and think, "thank Christ all mine are grown up"
For single mothers out there I salute you. For people who have recently lost their mother's I hug you. For those of you with mothers who are horrors I console you.
All that remains to be said is that I have a wonderful mother. She is kind and considerate, generous with time and money and always interested in you sometimes to the detriment of herself. She would rather see you go with and her without than the other way round.
If you are reading this and need a little motherly love, she goes out at a tenner for a quick phone call, £25 for a Skype session, £50 for Sunday lunch, £75 for a one to one sit down and chat 'with a nice cup of tea and a biscuit', £100 for a graduation, £150 to meet the new in-laws and £200 for a wedding. Bargain i'd say.
You are the best Mum, but then again we all say that to ours don't we? But you really are.
Love you very much and all mothers out there have a marvellous day
Nicholas Edward Evans
Tuesday, March 1, 2016
Day 6 & 7 of The Not So Secret Diary of a Faster aged 43 and 3//4
Big Brother Fasting Diary
I wouldn’t fancy using the colema room after one of them . Christ their colon must be enlarged to the size of Hampshire (Both New andUK
I'm sure Elvis would have loved this place, after years of constipation, though it's a bit humid for a jumpsuit to be fair.
But I have done a whole 7 days fasting. I have slung back an occasional can of pop i'm afraid and smoked like a trooper in times of stress, hunger or boredom (so that's pretty much the whole time) - so i'm not what you would call a textbook subject.
Tomorrow, after my morning duties I can break my fast and eat. They suggest raw food for the 1st day, then some fruit and raw food day 2 and some gently cooked healthy food on day 3. I'm not sure I can wait that long.
One of the girls asked me what I was going to eat 1st, saying the shredded Papaya salad was very good. 'I'm sure it is my lovely' I replied, 'but the Pad Thai is better.'
Fuck raw food i'm tasting Thailand tomorrow and I can't wait. And at least i'll be better than my 1st fast in 2006.
It was my first 7 dayer. and I was starving. Every day opposite the hotel I walked past a shop with a massive clear bag of golden tortilla chips hung outside. I swear to God they became more Golden every day. Like they had been spray painted yellow and glistened in the Sun. Those little cunts teased me all week.
They taunted me. I began to dream of giant tortillas. I saw them everywhere. Then on Day 8 when you could break your fast, I marched straight past all the do gooder healthy bastards eating papaya salad and bought 3 bags. Sitting by the pool I demolished them in about 5 minutes. It was disgusting, I looked like Mr Creosote in Speedos. I couldn't shovel them in quick enough. Like speed eating on fast forward. Crumbs were all over me, down my front, in my Speedos, scattering my lounger. I even found a half eaten one in my arse crack. Still waste not want not!
I was like a an adult baby. Bits of processed friend corn covered me but they were the best tortilla chips I've ever eaten, and I don't even like the sodding things. I wont make the same mistake again.
I'm not even that hungry if I'm honest. It's not as hard as you think and I ran again this morning. Some people have good experiences, others find it hard. I'm somewhere in between.
The hardest thing is your head and the tiredness. Sometimes you get in such a fog and can't think clearly. I left my bankcard in the ATM the other night, forget things all the time and even forgot a large Adams apple is not a good sign in this country. What a fool!
Bring on the last day 8! I will report finally tomorrow.
Nicholas 'Pad Thai, double rice, 4 spring rolls, ribs, pork balls and a side salad please' Evans
Day 6 & 7
I'm such a masochist. I extended my fast to a 7th day. I didn't quite feel that 6 was enough, feeling still somewhat rank and listless, so I followed their suggested guide of 7 days.
I'm such a masochist. I extended my fast to a 7th day. I didn't quite feel that 6 was enough, feeling still somewhat rank and listless, so I followed their suggested guide of 7 days.
I haven't yet reached the end of the Colema hell though, a final 'water flush' is scheduled for 10am, followed by a probiotic injected up your ass. If there is one thing I have learnt this week is that I'm a 'giver' not a 'reciever'. I don't know how you girls and boys do it. That's of course if you do of course. You know what I'm talking about you filthy bastards.
I seem to become frozen with fear and dread so I clench. Tensing the whole of my body and of course sphincter. They tell you to 'relax and release', but i'm about as relaxed as someone on their first night of prison sharing a cell with 'Big Don'. This clench in turn forces the pipe to come out and naturally if mid stream a torent of shit. This is not good as you have to pad around trying desperately to put the tube back in your now un-lubed arse, which hurts. I think girls I now know the hell you go through when your man aims for brown insead of pink. I feel your pain.
I have been working on my clenching over the past couple of days and become rather good at it. Its like anal yoga. Trying to breathe and relax when you're head is saying 'look out, hold tight, incoming, Clench!!' The result means the clench relaxes and the bowels flow.
This means you release more, and lord knows I felt better when the years supply of backed up liver sausage, corned beef, cocktail sausages, haslet, dry roasted peanuts, turkey ham (it's not even real is it just a made up meat) and mechanically separated meatballs were let out of their poisonous cage. "get out you dirty bastards" I snarled.
Serves me right for eating such nonsense in the first place. How little do I love myself or my body to put that shit in it? Something to work on when I get home I think.
It really is a double edged sword. The more you get into the colema's the better you feel. I hate to say but I quite enjoyed them today. I really have turned insane. They say that all of that nasty horrible toxic food waste can be stored into poison and in turn create cancer or other disease. This is designed to literally flush it away. They do not say 'go back to eating this shit' afterwards, but most usually do.
I'm pretty sure you won't miss my daily shit bulletins and will survive without them. I apologise for being so filthy in graphic detail today, I'll spare you the you tube clip.
This morning, there was a fresh arrival of pasty faced,
lifeless, worn out bloated fasters. Some of which were chronically obese
Americans with what suspiciously looked like specially reinforced trainers and
what can only be described as leisure slacks I seem to become frozen with fear and dread so I clench. Tensing the whole of my body and of course sphincter. They tell you to 'relax and release', but i'm about as relaxed as someone on their first night of prison sharing a cell with 'Big Don'. This clench in turn forces the pipe to come out and naturally if mid stream a torent of shit. This is not good as you have to pad around trying desperately to put the tube back in your now un-lubed arse, which hurts. I think girls I now know the hell you go through when your man aims for brown insead of pink. I feel your pain.
I have been working on my clenching over the past couple of days and become rather good at it. Its like anal yoga. Trying to breathe and relax when you're head is saying 'look out, hold tight, incoming, Clench!!' The result means the clench relaxes and the bowels flow.
This means you release more, and lord knows I felt better when the years supply of backed up liver sausage, corned beef, cocktail sausages, haslet, dry roasted peanuts, turkey ham (it's not even real is it just a made up meat) and mechanically separated meatballs were let out of their poisonous cage. "get out you dirty bastards" I snarled.
Serves me right for eating such nonsense in the first place. How little do I love myself or my body to put that shit in it? Something to work on when I get home I think.
It really is a double edged sword. The more you get into the colema's the better you feel. I hate to say but I quite enjoyed them today. I really have turned insane. They say that all of that nasty horrible toxic food waste can be stored into poison and in turn create cancer or other disease. This is designed to literally flush it away. They do not say 'go back to eating this shit' afterwards, but most usually do.
I'm pretty sure you won't miss my daily shit bulletins and will survive without them. I apologise for being so filthy in graphic detail today, I'll spare you the you tube clip.
I wouldn’t fancy using the colema room after one of them . Christ their colon must be enlarged to the size of Hampshire (Both New and
I'm sure Elvis would have loved this place, after years of constipation, though it's a bit humid for a jumpsuit to be fair.
But I have done a whole 7 days fasting. I have slung back an occasional can of pop i'm afraid and smoked like a trooper in times of stress, hunger or boredom (so that's pretty much the whole time) - so i'm not what you would call a textbook subject.
Tomorrow, after my morning duties I can break my fast and eat. They suggest raw food for the 1st day, then some fruit and raw food day 2 and some gently cooked healthy food on day 3. I'm not sure I can wait that long.
One of the girls asked me what I was going to eat 1st, saying the shredded Papaya salad was very good. 'I'm sure it is my lovely' I replied, 'but the Pad Thai is better.'
Fuck raw food i'm tasting Thailand tomorrow and I can't wait. And at least i'll be better than my 1st fast in 2006.
It was my first 7 dayer. and I was starving. Every day opposite the hotel I walked past a shop with a massive clear bag of golden tortilla chips hung outside. I swear to God they became more Golden every day. Like they had been spray painted yellow and glistened in the Sun. Those little cunts teased me all week.
They taunted me. I began to dream of giant tortillas. I saw them everywhere. Then on Day 8 when you could break your fast, I marched straight past all the do gooder healthy bastards eating papaya salad and bought 3 bags. Sitting by the pool I demolished them in about 5 minutes. It was disgusting, I looked like Mr Creosote in Speedos. I couldn't shovel them in quick enough. Like speed eating on fast forward. Crumbs were all over me, down my front, in my Speedos, scattering my lounger. I even found a half eaten one in my arse crack. Still waste not want not!
I was like a an adult baby. Bits of processed friend corn covered me but they were the best tortilla chips I've ever eaten, and I don't even like the sodding things. I wont make the same mistake again.
I'm not even that hungry if I'm honest. It's not as hard as you think and I ran again this morning. Some people have good experiences, others find it hard. I'm somewhere in between.
The hardest thing is your head and the tiredness. Sometimes you get in such a fog and can't think clearly. I left my bankcard in the ATM the other night, forget things all the time and even forgot a large Adams apple is not a good sign in this country. What a fool!
Seriously though I have enjoyed the experience and i'm looking forward to eating healthily and enjoying and appreciating all the flavours and colours of the great food on offer here.
I am blessed and lucky to be able to have the choice not to eat. Some people don't have that luxury in the world. Some people don't have enough.
I am blessed to have the ability, opportunity and means to cook good food and handle it with love and gratitude. I am ashamed to admit I haven't done that. I've taken having it for granted and have been lazy with what I have put into my body. I have even abused it at times. Shameful really.
It's so easy to get into that attitude at home, but out here you have time to think and reflect. But the real deal is when I come home to reality. This fast will mean shit, literally, if I go back to old ways. So today I decided to train to be a personal trainer, do a nutrition qualification and then train in counselling on addicitons and health and wellness.
I think it will help to change me around and in turn help others to. What do you think? A middle aged body coach in Speedos. Think there's a gap in the market? I bloody hope so!
I am blessed and lucky to be able to have the choice not to eat. Some people don't have that luxury in the world. Some people don't have enough.
I am blessed to have the ability, opportunity and means to cook good food and handle it with love and gratitude. I am ashamed to admit I haven't done that. I've taken having it for granted and have been lazy with what I have put into my body. I have even abused it at times. Shameful really.
It's so easy to get into that attitude at home, but out here you have time to think and reflect. But the real deal is when I come home to reality. This fast will mean shit, literally, if I go back to old ways. So today I decided to train to be a personal trainer, do a nutrition qualification and then train in counselling on addicitons and health and wellness.
I think it will help to change me around and in turn help others to. What do you think? A middle aged body coach in Speedos. Think there's a gap in the market? I bloody hope so!
Bring on the last day 8! I will report finally tomorrow.
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Day 5 of The Not So Secret Fasters Diary
Day 5 of Fast
Koh Samui, Thailand
I'm in the home straight! Only one and half days to go. I haven't eaten for 5 days! Five bloody days. Incredible really.
When you're sitting at home or just getting on with your every day life you cannot comprehend going 2 days without food, let alone a week. For people who have never fasted it genuinely seems impossible. But it isn't. Just like a lot of things in my head.
I asked a fellow returnee, Leslie from London, what her family and friends thought of her fasting. "Oh they think I'm bonkers", she replied. Probably because it is.
Life here is different for us 20 or so fasters. The tropical climate, sun, heat, mediation at 7.30am, yoga at 8.45am, colema at 10am, juice at 1, 4, colema at 5 then final juice at 7 keeps the day full.
When you're at home fasting is nigh on impossible. It's a totally different cocooned environment here so you don't really miss eating too much and just get on with it.
She called it her 'annual MOT', which is pretty how I view it.
She also admitted to feeling negative, having low self esteem and feelings of isolation yesterday. So it's not just alcoholics that have those feelings, civilians do too. It made me feel better. I think identification on a deep level is one of the greatest things for a human. Feeling isolated or alone is corrosive for mind and health. Although she did say she had an addictive personality. Interesting. I shall investigate further tomorrow. Perhaps there are more addicts out there than we or they realise, undiagnosed just maintaining it the best they can.
We also discussed the weird process of fasting. She admitted to eating crap, drinking, getting stressed, living badly after her fast last year, with a brief restbite when she got home only to slip into bad habits and return again this year. Many people who come here have exactly the same cycle. Habits and lifestyles are hard to change.
When you get back to normal living. Busy job, kids, families, stress, commuting, London living, social life, whatever it maybe - it is hard to maintain good habits if you're used to bad ones. Finding the time to meditate, cook fresh food, exercise, see family, maintain relationships with friends, drink water, nourish yourself is difficult in a busy life. Unless of course that is your lifestyle, then it's a piece of piss. In fact when you are like that an unhealthy lifestyle seems alien and repulsive. It's like the reverse side of the same coin.
The key is to find a way to incorporate good habits into your life. I find it incredibly difficult after so long in bad ones. It is engrained and changing them is hard.
Still talking to Leslie today showed me I am not alone. There are many of us and why places like Spa Samui are so popular. But it is a quick fix and not the answer to long term health and wellness. This has to come from within and be maintained on a daily basis. This is the challenge for us all.
It is what happens between the fasts that is more mportant than the fast.
Having said that it does make me feel great and have shed 4KG's of excessive Xmas flab plus today my energy came back and my head feels clear. I still get the head invade me of course, as per yesterday but on the whole I am feeling much clearer. The fog is lifting. But I still remain.
Today has been OK. I woke early and ground out a 45 minute run, stopping for an ace meditation at my favourite spot. I managed 7.5 minutes this time and even got out of my own head for 3 of it. Fabulous. The run was great on the way back. Top off, sweating, stride lengthening, pace increasing, breathing rythmical, head flowing with positive ideas. It's like active form of meditation for me and I fucking love it.
Then I had a great Colema. I know I shouldn't say, but Christ so much came out I felt a stone lighter. 10 months of processed meat finally escaping. "Get out you little bastards" I murmured. I had to question my sanity at that point. I appeared to be talking to my own colon. 5 days of not eating clearly does that to man.
The rain poured down all day so I retreated to my hotel room. This is where the head started and I went into self. That is not a good place. I began to try and plot my future. Not being able to decide on counselling, therapist, trainer, coaching, writing a novel or becoming a self help guru. 'Where do I start?' I became overwhelmed and took to smoking cigarettes on the balcony. I was in danger of disappearing up my own arse again and into the black dog.
Luckily I had Colema number 2 (pun intended) however on the way I got into a great conversation with a fellow faster for an hour. I felt better. It took me out of me. I realised that connection with other humans are so important. I'm not great on my own.
Then I had another wicked Colema. I know this is stupid but just the action of having to do something you had to concentrate on other than your own thinking helped. The fact that more hidden cocktail sausages were released was a bonus. Instead of murmuring, empowered by new found confidence in shitting I repeated the 'get out you bastards' phrase but loudly this time.
I was kept amused throughout the day by my best mates on a WhatsApp group sending me pictures of delicious food all day. The bastards sent Tunnocks Tea Cakes, Burger and Chips, a massive beef rib and Sunday Roast. I love my mates, luckily the last image was of flatbread and hummus. Nobody likes hummus so it put me off eating for another 2 days. Cheers buddy!
As you can tell not a lot happened today. I return to my earlier statement. I honestly thought I couldn't go a whole week without eating but I can. I honestly thought I couldn't run a marathon but I ran 7 of them. I honestly thought I couldn't do an Ironman but I did 3 of them. I honestly thought I couldn't stop drinking but I have for 14 years.
So despite so much evidence to the contrary, that my head tells lies, why do I doubt I can become a coach, trainer, self help guru, write a selling novel, help many people, earn decent money, build the life I want, quit smoking, live healthily and be free of other addictions?
It's a question that I keep asking myself over and over again. One day I will stop believing it.
Love you all very much and please sponsor me for the London Marathon. I'm running it in 8 weeks for Action on Addiction and any support is appreciated.
https://www.justgiving.com/Nick-Evans23/
Nicholas 'Is that an adams apple or are you just pleased to see me?' Evans
Koh Samui, Thailand
I'm in the home straight! Only one and half days to go. I haven't eaten for 5 days! Five bloody days. Incredible really.
When you're sitting at home or just getting on with your every day life you cannot comprehend going 2 days without food, let alone a week. For people who have never fasted it genuinely seems impossible. But it isn't. Just like a lot of things in my head.
I asked a fellow returnee, Leslie from London, what her family and friends thought of her fasting. "Oh they think I'm bonkers", she replied. Probably because it is.
Life here is different for us 20 or so fasters. The tropical climate, sun, heat, mediation at 7.30am, yoga at 8.45am, colema at 10am, juice at 1, 4, colema at 5 then final juice at 7 keeps the day full.
When you're at home fasting is nigh on impossible. It's a totally different cocooned environment here so you don't really miss eating too much and just get on with it.
She called it her 'annual MOT', which is pretty how I view it.
She also admitted to feeling negative, having low self esteem and feelings of isolation yesterday. So it's not just alcoholics that have those feelings, civilians do too. It made me feel better. I think identification on a deep level is one of the greatest things for a human. Feeling isolated or alone is corrosive for mind and health. Although she did say she had an addictive personality. Interesting. I shall investigate further tomorrow. Perhaps there are more addicts out there than we or they realise, undiagnosed just maintaining it the best they can.
We also discussed the weird process of fasting. She admitted to eating crap, drinking, getting stressed, living badly after her fast last year, with a brief restbite when she got home only to slip into bad habits and return again this year. Many people who come here have exactly the same cycle. Habits and lifestyles are hard to change.
When you get back to normal living. Busy job, kids, families, stress, commuting, London living, social life, whatever it maybe - it is hard to maintain good habits if you're used to bad ones. Finding the time to meditate, cook fresh food, exercise, see family, maintain relationships with friends, drink water, nourish yourself is difficult in a busy life. Unless of course that is your lifestyle, then it's a piece of piss. In fact when you are like that an unhealthy lifestyle seems alien and repulsive. It's like the reverse side of the same coin.
The key is to find a way to incorporate good habits into your life. I find it incredibly difficult after so long in bad ones. It is engrained and changing them is hard.
Still talking to Leslie today showed me I am not alone. There are many of us and why places like Spa Samui are so popular. But it is a quick fix and not the answer to long term health and wellness. This has to come from within and be maintained on a daily basis. This is the challenge for us all.
It is what happens between the fasts that is more mportant than the fast.
Having said that it does make me feel great and have shed 4KG's of excessive Xmas flab plus today my energy came back and my head feels clear. I still get the head invade me of course, as per yesterday but on the whole I am feeling much clearer. The fog is lifting. But I still remain.
Today has been OK. I woke early and ground out a 45 minute run, stopping for an ace meditation at my favourite spot. I managed 7.5 minutes this time and even got out of my own head for 3 of it. Fabulous. The run was great on the way back. Top off, sweating, stride lengthening, pace increasing, breathing rythmical, head flowing with positive ideas. It's like active form of meditation for me and I fucking love it.
Then I had a great Colema. I know I shouldn't say, but Christ so much came out I felt a stone lighter. 10 months of processed meat finally escaping. "Get out you little bastards" I murmured. I had to question my sanity at that point. I appeared to be talking to my own colon. 5 days of not eating clearly does that to man.
The rain poured down all day so I retreated to my hotel room. This is where the head started and I went into self. That is not a good place. I began to try and plot my future. Not being able to decide on counselling, therapist, trainer, coaching, writing a novel or becoming a self help guru. 'Where do I start?' I became overwhelmed and took to smoking cigarettes on the balcony. I was in danger of disappearing up my own arse again and into the black dog.
Luckily I had Colema number 2 (pun intended) however on the way I got into a great conversation with a fellow faster for an hour. I felt better. It took me out of me. I realised that connection with other humans are so important. I'm not great on my own.
Then I had another wicked Colema. I know this is stupid but just the action of having to do something you had to concentrate on other than your own thinking helped. The fact that more hidden cocktail sausages were released was a bonus. Instead of murmuring, empowered by new found confidence in shitting I repeated the 'get out you bastards' phrase but loudly this time.
I was kept amused throughout the day by my best mates on a WhatsApp group sending me pictures of delicious food all day. The bastards sent Tunnocks Tea Cakes, Burger and Chips, a massive beef rib and Sunday Roast. I love my mates, luckily the last image was of flatbread and hummus. Nobody likes hummus so it put me off eating for another 2 days. Cheers buddy!
As you can tell not a lot happened today. I return to my earlier statement. I honestly thought I couldn't go a whole week without eating but I can. I honestly thought I couldn't run a marathon but I ran 7 of them. I honestly thought I couldn't do an Ironman but I did 3 of them. I honestly thought I couldn't stop drinking but I have for 14 years.
So despite so much evidence to the contrary, that my head tells lies, why do I doubt I can become a coach, trainer, self help guru, write a selling novel, help many people, earn decent money, build the life I want, quit smoking, live healthily and be free of other addictions?
It's a question that I keep asking myself over and over again. One day I will stop believing it.
Love you all very much and please sponsor me for the London Marathon. I'm running it in 8 weeks for Action on Addiction and any support is appreciated.
https://www.justgiving.com/Nick-Evans23/
Nicholas 'Is that an adams apple or are you just pleased to see me?' Evans
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Day 4 of the Not So Secret Fasters Diary - Crash!
Day 4 of The Fast - Crash, Bang and Wallop!
Today was meltdown. A roller coaster. A day of two halves. A great example of fasting, alcoholism, the 'old angry negative me and AA recovery. I had underestimated fasting, being lulled into a false sense of security that it was a piece of piss and have no affect on my mental or physical state. How wrong I was.
Waking up it felt as if all the years of throwing toxins into my body had rolled into one big mother fucker of a crash. Aching, drained, devoid of energy with thick foggy, negative and critical head. The Black dog was on me.
I'm not sure what the black dog is. It's not depression, I'm not sure if it's my alcoholism or if it's just some black cloud that takes a hold. My mind has a tendency towards critical and negative thinking at the best of times. The monkey mind sometimes taking over. The conscious brain, with thousands of limiting self beliefs, worries, fears and anxieties runs amok. If you add alcoholism and the alcoholic mind to the mix it can become disabling. When these two collide and you add a sprinkling of fasting toxins leaving the body it can have a devastating effect. That's what happened to me today.
Old Nick, Negative Nick, Diseased Nick, Devil Nick took over from the moment I opened my eyes, like it had me in a vice like grip. It's as if my disease, the black dog and toxin crash had a meeting whilst I was asleep and agreed to fuck me up when I woke. "We've been expecting you Nicholas, welcome to the day. We are in control now."
I considered meditation, yoga, running or swimming but was welded to the bed. Indecision and apathy ran through me. I immediately castigated myself for not swimming. Comparing and despairing against my Ironman coach who would have been marching out to sea and swimming 1.5km by now. I looked out at the ocean and sank into extreme self hatred. "Why can't I just get up and get out" I whined to myself.
Then I spotted all the other fasters heading to yoga along the beach and I felt double despair that I hadn't made it yet this week and questioned my entire spiritual axis and motivation. It was 7.25am. I knew I was in for a ride with the head.
I attempted to 'get out of my head' with a guided meditation for 20 minutes. But I couldn't get 'turn that bollocks off, this is just a waste of time you know you'll still feel shit after' out of my head the whole time. The committee was in full conference.
I then made a fatal error, I scrolled through Facebook. Big mistake (so much for my social media detox) When you are feeling crap it is guaranteed to make you feel decidedly less than, by viewing loads of people with shiny happy lives doing great things, surrounded by love, family, great job or writing books or other amazing stuff. Sickening. I came across an interview with a lovely guy from AA, whom I helped in his early days and have nothing but love for. He's an actor, just about to be married and doing a film about his life growing up in London with himself, Ray Winstone and Paul Weller doing the soundtrack. The interview was glowing and it sounded like he was on top of the world.
In a healthy, happy and balanced state of mind, (particularly the one I found 3 weeks ago, but sadly lost a week later) I would be happy for him.
Instead, the black dog simply sunk me deeper into gloom. 'Fuck I'm 4 years ahead of him in recovery and what am I doing with my life? Where's my fucking interview in a members club in Soho for a national newspaper?"
I spent the next 30 minutes rubbishing my entire sobriety, life and future. It was compare and despair of the highest order. The Black dog wasn't just holding the steering wheel. It was driving the fucking bus too!
There is an old saying in AA. "Don't go into your head alone, it's a bad neighbourhood." I didn't just go in solo. I camped out overnight and bought the street. I was gone.
I attempted to read some pages of a self help book someone bought me called, "You Are A Badass, How To Stop Doubting Your Greatness and Start Living an Awesome Life." This just made me worse. The author talked about negative thinking, how we create our own misery and how you can earn a fortune and create the life you want in some simple steps. I felt like throwing myself off the balcony.
Jealousy and envy overpowered me. She's writing what I want, yet I don't know how to get it. And she was writing 'How to Get it' - I hated it even more. How am I going to earn my fortune? What is my self help book going to be if I can't help myself? It was full on whiny self hatred. Shoot me now!
I found all of my confusion and uncertainty about what I want to do with my life rising up and overwhelming me. I was almost hyperventilating. I smoked 2 cigarettes, prayed and with dread went for my 1st colema of the day. "Don't worry", I thought, "there's an AA meeting at 11am, that'll make you feel better."
So off I popped for the colema. Have you ever had one of those days where everything seems to go wrong and you're all fingers and thumbs and cant seem to get your shit together? Well that was me in the colema room. I literally couldn't get my shit together.
The pipe kept coming out of my ass, there was shit everywhere, I couldn't re-attach it and in the end I abandoned it half way through, traumatised and double castigating myself. "You can't even shit properly, you stupid bastard." the black dog said. I felt very low. I was even less than at shitting.
I staked everything I had on the meeting.
Meetings are very different to the UK here. There is no main speaker, this one was in an upstairs open air restaurant, over looking the beach. People sit round a table and it is pretty free and easy relaxed.
I got upstairs and Dr J was taking the meeting and there were 6 women around the table. 'Fuck' I thought. 'Just my luck'. They were all dressed as extras for 'Eat, Pray and Love'.
In my state I needed some old timer guys who would talk pure alcoholism and recovery and make me laugh and help me pull out of the misery. I needed to get out of my head, Instead I got Dr J and several middle aged women who were on a yoga retreat.
Now, I shouldn't be saying this because of the yellow card. It is Anonymous after all and it's not for me to go blabbing what is said in a meeting. I am aware I am probably breaking the twelfth tradition (or is it 11th) - that anonymity is the spiritual principle of AA, but I wanted ot commit it down to writing, as it highlights alcoholism, how you can fuck up and how you can make amends. Forgive me, if any AA's are reading this and shaking their head at me writing about it.
The meeting started 10 minutes late, which got my skin crawling. I was seething inside. An old timer once said to me, "a hallmark of good recovery Nick is a meeting starting on time and finishing on time." - I'm quite old school in the values that way. Everyone was sat around doing small talk. I wasn't in the mood for small talk. I wanted my medicine. I felt deeply uncomfortable.
Then we did a reading about step 4, this is essentially character defects, how we are malfunctioned and our behaviour can cause pain to others. Instead of blaming others for everything it's usually something to do with ourselves and our reaction to life. I listened and nodded sagely. This was me. Who am I to judge and criticise others?
Then Dr J kicked off the meeting, again, as he has done for the past 10 years of coming here. I thought to myself. "Have respect, have tolerance and have compassion for the man." I looked him in the eye and listened to him talk.
10 minutes later I was getting twitchy. It was a 1 hour meeting, there were 7 of us and there were 29 minutes left. I told myself to 'shut up and listen more'. I did.
15 minutes went by and he was still going. Bits were coming off me by now. Steam was rising, resentment burning. His words were actually starting to hurt.
20 minutes passed and began going through my full (and trusted AA repertoire) of tricks to signify to Dr J that his time to speak was now up. I thought 'we're all going to get about 4 minutes here and this cunt has had 20'.
I rattled my chair, looked at my watch twice, yawned, put my head in my hands and finally with my head about to explode, did a huge sigh and kicked the table. Everyone looked round at me. He carried on undeterred.
My anger was rising. My head was doing cartwheels. I considered walking out, but finally I just cut in as he was speaking and aggressively said, "Is anyone else going to get a chance to share?" - He stopped dead, looked dumbfounded and replied back with venom, "Sure Nick, there's 25 minutes left, I'm sure everyone wants to hear you."and stopped dead.
There was an awkward hush. Even the rain stopped momentarily. Everyone looked at me. I kept my trap shut. A whole 30 seconds went by before one of the old girls said "Do you want to share Nick" I said, "No, I wanted to listen to others and share later."
Luckily a newcomer who doesn't give a toss about such AA ego stand offs and is so self absorbed (ring any bells Nick?) piped up. But the die was cast. My mood sank lower.
I managed to share. Throwing a couple of snide kidney shots to Dr J. It's the classic AA share in a general way but you are really aiming at someone. It's a low blow but I was fuming.
My mood was compounded at the end when one of the yoga girls, who didn't identify herself as an alcoholic shared about 'we' and 'us' and how people shouldn't judge and criticise and how she thought it was important people had the right to express their feelings. Fair enough,
But basically she was having a kidney shot at me, however what she failed to see was that whilst saying 'we shouldn't judge' she was actually judging me for sharing what I did. Classic blind denial and hypocrisy. Mostly found in the yoga spiritual kind of AA around these parts.
It wasn't the best meeting for me. I felt like I was in my early days. Angry Nick had come back with a bang.To be fair I could have said a lot worse, all I did was cut him dead, but I was still out of line.
The meeting ended. Everyone sat round indulging in small talk again. I left immediately with my head burning. Could today get any worse?
I stomped around, smoked a cigarette and went back to my room to sound off to someone. I had too. What followed was a 10 minute rant. By the end of it I realised I was out of line, that I shouldn't fuck with the traditions of a meeting and never cut someone off no matter what. But I also realised I was right though in my sentiments just not my actions.
I went to sleep, woke up, felt awful, and went back for my 2nd colema. Whilst I was waiting Dr J walked past. I knew what I had to do.
I went up to him, looked him in the eye and apoligised. I shouldn't have done it. He accepted and gave me some feedback. Saying on Thursday you said 'you prefer to hear people's truths and how they are feeling' I tried that today and still you didn't like it.' I felt guilty.
A - that he actually listened to me last week so tried something new and B - that he was sharing some painful stuff and I just cut him off.
I felt awful and we shook hands, I apologised again, I said he was a good man and offered him a hug. We embraced in a slightly stiff and emabarrased way and I walked away feeling so much better. I will never have a resentment again Dr J again.
I sailed through the 2nd colema, and thought 'yes i'm a competent shitter again' suddenly the world felt better. My energy cleared and I actually began to feel a little high, like I was on drugs. Fasting can do that to you.
I bumped into a newcomer from the meeting and said, 'I'm sorry for earlier, that's not usual AA behaviour", she said , 'Oh god don't worry about it, I was thinking the same as you.' - vindication!
The evening was spent eating clear broth and getting pummeled by the strongest thai woman I have ever seen with hands like shovels. It was a bona fide Thai Massage before you ask. A happy ending from her would have finished me off (perhaps not the best turn of phrase)
So there it is, that's day 4. So many lessons for me to learn'
Today was meltdown. A roller coaster. A day of two halves. A great example of fasting, alcoholism, the 'old angry negative me and AA recovery. I had underestimated fasting, being lulled into a false sense of security that it was a piece of piss and have no affect on my mental or physical state. How wrong I was.
Waking up it felt as if all the years of throwing toxins into my body had rolled into one big mother fucker of a crash. Aching, drained, devoid of energy with thick foggy, negative and critical head. The Black dog was on me.
I'm not sure what the black dog is. It's not depression, I'm not sure if it's my alcoholism or if it's just some black cloud that takes a hold. My mind has a tendency towards critical and negative thinking at the best of times. The monkey mind sometimes taking over. The conscious brain, with thousands of limiting self beliefs, worries, fears and anxieties runs amok. If you add alcoholism and the alcoholic mind to the mix it can become disabling. When these two collide and you add a sprinkling of fasting toxins leaving the body it can have a devastating effect. That's what happened to me today.
Old Nick, Negative Nick, Diseased Nick, Devil Nick took over from the moment I opened my eyes, like it had me in a vice like grip. It's as if my disease, the black dog and toxin crash had a meeting whilst I was asleep and agreed to fuck me up when I woke. "We've been expecting you Nicholas, welcome to the day. We are in control now."
I considered meditation, yoga, running or swimming but was welded to the bed. Indecision and apathy ran through me. I immediately castigated myself for not swimming. Comparing and despairing against my Ironman coach who would have been marching out to sea and swimming 1.5km by now. I looked out at the ocean and sank into extreme self hatred. "Why can't I just get up and get out" I whined to myself.
Then I spotted all the other fasters heading to yoga along the beach and I felt double despair that I hadn't made it yet this week and questioned my entire spiritual axis and motivation. It was 7.25am. I knew I was in for a ride with the head.
I attempted to 'get out of my head' with a guided meditation for 20 minutes. But I couldn't get 'turn that bollocks off, this is just a waste of time you know you'll still feel shit after' out of my head the whole time. The committee was in full conference.
I then made a fatal error, I scrolled through Facebook. Big mistake (so much for my social media detox) When you are feeling crap it is guaranteed to make you feel decidedly less than, by viewing loads of people with shiny happy lives doing great things, surrounded by love, family, great job or writing books or other amazing stuff. Sickening. I came across an interview with a lovely guy from AA, whom I helped in his early days and have nothing but love for. He's an actor, just about to be married and doing a film about his life growing up in London with himself, Ray Winstone and Paul Weller doing the soundtrack. The interview was glowing and it sounded like he was on top of the world.
In a healthy, happy and balanced state of mind, (particularly the one I found 3 weeks ago, but sadly lost a week later) I would be happy for him.
Instead, the black dog simply sunk me deeper into gloom. 'Fuck I'm 4 years ahead of him in recovery and what am I doing with my life? Where's my fucking interview in a members club in Soho for a national newspaper?"
I spent the next 30 minutes rubbishing my entire sobriety, life and future. It was compare and despair of the highest order. The Black dog wasn't just holding the steering wheel. It was driving the fucking bus too!
There is an old saying in AA. "Don't go into your head alone, it's a bad neighbourhood." I didn't just go in solo. I camped out overnight and bought the street. I was gone.
I attempted to read some pages of a self help book someone bought me called, "You Are A Badass, How To Stop Doubting Your Greatness and Start Living an Awesome Life." This just made me worse. The author talked about negative thinking, how we create our own misery and how you can earn a fortune and create the life you want in some simple steps. I felt like throwing myself off the balcony.
Jealousy and envy overpowered me. She's writing what I want, yet I don't know how to get it. And she was writing 'How to Get it' - I hated it even more. How am I going to earn my fortune? What is my self help book going to be if I can't help myself? It was full on whiny self hatred. Shoot me now!
I found all of my confusion and uncertainty about what I want to do with my life rising up and overwhelming me. I was almost hyperventilating. I smoked 2 cigarettes, prayed and with dread went for my 1st colema of the day. "Don't worry", I thought, "there's an AA meeting at 11am, that'll make you feel better."
So off I popped for the colema. Have you ever had one of those days where everything seems to go wrong and you're all fingers and thumbs and cant seem to get your shit together? Well that was me in the colema room. I literally couldn't get my shit together.
The pipe kept coming out of my ass, there was shit everywhere, I couldn't re-attach it and in the end I abandoned it half way through, traumatised and double castigating myself. "You can't even shit properly, you stupid bastard." the black dog said. I felt very low. I was even less than at shitting.
I staked everything I had on the meeting.
Meetings are very different to the UK here. There is no main speaker, this one was in an upstairs open air restaurant, over looking the beach. People sit round a table and it is pretty free and easy relaxed.
I got upstairs and Dr J was taking the meeting and there were 6 women around the table. 'Fuck' I thought. 'Just my luck'. They were all dressed as extras for 'Eat, Pray and Love'.
In my state I needed some old timer guys who would talk pure alcoholism and recovery and make me laugh and help me pull out of the misery. I needed to get out of my head, Instead I got Dr J and several middle aged women who were on a yoga retreat.
Now, I shouldn't be saying this because of the yellow card. It is Anonymous after all and it's not for me to go blabbing what is said in a meeting. I am aware I am probably breaking the twelfth tradition (or is it 11th) - that anonymity is the spiritual principle of AA, but I wanted ot commit it down to writing, as it highlights alcoholism, how you can fuck up and how you can make amends. Forgive me, if any AA's are reading this and shaking their head at me writing about it.
The meeting started 10 minutes late, which got my skin crawling. I was seething inside. An old timer once said to me, "a hallmark of good recovery Nick is a meeting starting on time and finishing on time." - I'm quite old school in the values that way. Everyone was sat around doing small talk. I wasn't in the mood for small talk. I wanted my medicine. I felt deeply uncomfortable.
Then we did a reading about step 4, this is essentially character defects, how we are malfunctioned and our behaviour can cause pain to others. Instead of blaming others for everything it's usually something to do with ourselves and our reaction to life. I listened and nodded sagely. This was me. Who am I to judge and criticise others?
Then Dr J kicked off the meeting, again, as he has done for the past 10 years of coming here. I thought to myself. "Have respect, have tolerance and have compassion for the man." I looked him in the eye and listened to him talk.
10 minutes later I was getting twitchy. It was a 1 hour meeting, there were 7 of us and there were 29 minutes left. I told myself to 'shut up and listen more'. I did.
15 minutes went by and he was still going. Bits were coming off me by now. Steam was rising, resentment burning. His words were actually starting to hurt.
20 minutes passed and began going through my full (and trusted AA repertoire) of tricks to signify to Dr J that his time to speak was now up. I thought 'we're all going to get about 4 minutes here and this cunt has had 20'.
I rattled my chair, looked at my watch twice, yawned, put my head in my hands and finally with my head about to explode, did a huge sigh and kicked the table. Everyone looked round at me. He carried on undeterred.
My anger was rising. My head was doing cartwheels. I considered walking out, but finally I just cut in as he was speaking and aggressively said, "Is anyone else going to get a chance to share?" - He stopped dead, looked dumbfounded and replied back with venom, "Sure Nick, there's 25 minutes left, I'm sure everyone wants to hear you."and stopped dead.
There was an awkward hush. Even the rain stopped momentarily. Everyone looked at me. I kept my trap shut. A whole 30 seconds went by before one of the old girls said "Do you want to share Nick" I said, "No, I wanted to listen to others and share later."
Luckily a newcomer who doesn't give a toss about such AA ego stand offs and is so self absorbed (ring any bells Nick?) piped up. But the die was cast. My mood sank lower.
I managed to share. Throwing a couple of snide kidney shots to Dr J. It's the classic AA share in a general way but you are really aiming at someone. It's a low blow but I was fuming.
My mood was compounded at the end when one of the yoga girls, who didn't identify herself as an alcoholic shared about 'we' and 'us' and how people shouldn't judge and criticise and how she thought it was important people had the right to express their feelings. Fair enough,
But basically she was having a kidney shot at me, however what she failed to see was that whilst saying 'we shouldn't judge' she was actually judging me for sharing what I did. Classic blind denial and hypocrisy. Mostly found in the yoga spiritual kind of AA around these parts.
It wasn't the best meeting for me. I felt like I was in my early days. Angry Nick had come back with a bang.To be fair I could have said a lot worse, all I did was cut him dead, but I was still out of line.
The meeting ended. Everyone sat round indulging in small talk again. I left immediately with my head burning. Could today get any worse?
I stomped around, smoked a cigarette and went back to my room to sound off to someone. I had too. What followed was a 10 minute rant. By the end of it I realised I was out of line, that I shouldn't fuck with the traditions of a meeting and never cut someone off no matter what. But I also realised I was right though in my sentiments just not my actions.
I went to sleep, woke up, felt awful, and went back for my 2nd colema. Whilst I was waiting Dr J walked past. I knew what I had to do.
I went up to him, looked him in the eye and apoligised. I shouldn't have done it. He accepted and gave me some feedback. Saying on Thursday you said 'you prefer to hear people's truths and how they are feeling' I tried that today and still you didn't like it.' I felt guilty.
A - that he actually listened to me last week so tried something new and B - that he was sharing some painful stuff and I just cut him off.
I felt awful and we shook hands, I apologised again, I said he was a good man and offered him a hug. We embraced in a slightly stiff and emabarrased way and I walked away feeling so much better. I will never have a resentment again Dr J again.
I sailed through the 2nd colema, and thought 'yes i'm a competent shitter again' suddenly the world felt better. My energy cleared and I actually began to feel a little high, like I was on drugs. Fasting can do that to you.
I bumped into a newcomer from the meeting and said, 'I'm sorry for earlier, that's not usual AA behaviour", she said , 'Oh god don't worry about it, I was thinking the same as you.' - vindication!
The evening was spent eating clear broth and getting pummeled by the strongest thai woman I have ever seen with hands like shovels. It was a bona fide Thai Massage before you ask. A happy ending from her would have finished me off (perhaps not the best turn of phrase)
So there it is, that's day 4. So many lessons for me to learn'
- do not underestimate fasting
- do not underestimate my disease of alcoholism
- take care of the head otherwise the black dog will descened
- do not compare an despair
- why be so self critical?
- Learn to love instead of hate
- sharing my truth is important even when it's angry or fucked up
- you can say you are sorry and start again
- positive actions lead to positive mind-sets
- to thine own self be true
It's been an interesting day I hope day 5 is better and I don't fall out with anyone. Just imagine if I gave up smoking too.
Lots of love
Nicholas 'lady thai boy' Evans
Friday, February 26, 2016
Day 3 Of The Not So Secret Fasting Diary of Nicholas Evans Aged 43 and 3/4
Day 3
Today was another slow day in Paradise. Not a lot happens when you're fasting.
Get up, drink detox shake, eat tablets, shit, drink detox shake, eat tablets, shit, drink detox drink, eat tablets, go to bed and Repeat x7.
Except today was thrilling. So many things happened I can't wait to share them all with you.
Great news! The good body man wasn't by the pool today so my status as number 1 Alpha male was restored. Granted, the only other men were three 70 year old Eastern Europeans with bow legs and an overweight Chinese man who's wife wore armbands in a waist high swimming pool. Still, the sweet feeling of alpha status sated my wafer thin ego.
The morning was uneventful save for passing a German couple sporting matching Bum-bags and 'Def Leppard' t-shirts. They wore them without post-modern retro fashion irony. They were genuinely 80's warriors. In fact they pre-dated irony which actually made them twice removed ironic. Like an Irony Paradigm. You don't see many of them these post-modern ironic retro days. It was refreshing to see a couple genuinely dress badly.
I bumped into Dr John and had a brief but perplexing conversation. I asked him, "How long have you been fasting manager?" Averting my gaze he said, "I fast every year". I repeated the question but louder. "Oh, sorry" he said, averting once more, "Buzz used to be restaurant manager, fast manger, everything manager before he built a couple of villas up there in the mountains and hired them out." I was rather stunned by this reply. It took me a few seconds to wonder what the fuck was going on before I said. "Who's Buzz?". Dr John looked at me as if I was a piece of 'deep cleansed stool', like I should know Buzz as an old friend, "He was the fasting manager before me". "oh" I said and immediately left none- the wiser. What an odd man. Dr John, not Buzz. Buzz sounds cool, I'd like to hang out with him in his Villa's. I bet he looks you in they eye and answers a straight question.
Both morning and evening colema's were particularly nasty. Definitely something to be endured not enjoyed. The opposite of my life Motto.
However, the afternoon colema was made a little easier after a brief chat with a fellow faster and really interesting dreadlocked Grandmother from Portland. USA. She imported Sari's and jewellery from India to Portland. We talked about Goa and India and all the vivid colours and extremities it offered. We talked about fasting, the world and globalisation. When I asked her what Portland was like she replied, "alternative, but it's become gentrified". This sparked a 5 minute chat about how all the cool, creative artistic areas are becoming less affordable or 'gentrified. I offered up Kings Road, Notting Hill, Shoreditch and Kensington as examples in London of independent creative hubs that were now full of dull and samey investment bankers or similar types who can only afford to live there.
I became somewhat misty eyed and sentimental when I recalled to her the Kings Road of when I was 14 or the individual fashion stores at Kensington Market. She was kind and patient and when she asked what was Kensington Market was like these days, I replied "Maplin."
We both rather gloomily agreed this is a world problem and centred around capitalism and with a new unity forged we disappeared into traps 7 and 9 to shit ourselves.
Fasting is a great leveller. There we were discussing globalisation, vibrations and energy flows with her looking like the coolest granny you would ever see and me looking like David Hasselhoff in Speedos. Still I gave a good account of myself and seemed far more worldly than I really am. I think I just about pulled it off. She seemed impressed.
Back at the pool I got chatting to someone. After 10 minutes of idle chat, the waiter came over and placed a massive bowl of crinkle cut French fries in front of them. 'Holy fuck, how good do they look?" I remarked. "Did you know I was fasting?" "Sorry no, do you mind if I eat them?" "Not at all", I lied. I watched them eat every mouthful. They looked like the best chips I've ever seen. Golden, lightly fried, you could even hear the little crunch as they bit. "How good are they out of 10? I asked. "7.5" was the reply. They looked like a 15 to me but I was pleased with 7.5, though I think they underplayed it to manage my hunger. When they finished I found myself getting a little closer to them in the vague hope I could smell the chips on their breath. Then I realised how creepy it was. Fasting does that to you sometimes.
I ran again in the evening. My IM coach will be pleased. But not at the pace. In fairness I did pass two people on the steepest climb. But they were Thai pensioners, one of which had a limp.
I got my favourite vantage point, it was a little lighter tonight, so I was able to climb onto the rock jutting over the sea, waves crashing below me and stars twinkling above. There were no urinating dogs tonight so I was able to meditate for a full 10 minutes.
I decided the Sea is my Higher power. It doesn't give a fuck. It just rolls in and out relentlessly, waves constantly crashing and it's bigger than me.
On the bare-chested run back, I was applauded and bowed at by 4 Thai's leaving a restaurant. Granted they were pissed but they seemed to be impressed by my sweaty efforts. I like Thailand, the people are sweet. In England when you run bare-chested all you tend to get from people is a loud, "wanker!"
I have to admit diary, I caved in and drank a can of Schweppes Lime soda tonight after the run. It was a moment of weakness and I'm sorry. I know it's a slippery slope, after all i'm an addict and one lime/soda could lead to two, then a banana, then a pizza and before I know it i'm knee deep in deep fried ping pong balls and ladyboys.
I'll be a good boy tomorrow and ensure it won't happen.
Love you long time
Nicholas 'Thai-boy' Evans
Today was another slow day in Paradise. Not a lot happens when you're fasting.
Get up, drink detox shake, eat tablets, shit, drink detox shake, eat tablets, shit, drink detox drink, eat tablets, go to bed and Repeat x7.
Except today was thrilling. So many things happened I can't wait to share them all with you.
Great news! The good body man wasn't by the pool today so my status as number 1 Alpha male was restored. Granted, the only other men were three 70 year old Eastern Europeans with bow legs and an overweight Chinese man who's wife wore armbands in a waist high swimming pool. Still, the sweet feeling of alpha status sated my wafer thin ego.
The morning was uneventful save for passing a German couple sporting matching Bum-bags and 'Def Leppard' t-shirts. They wore them without post-modern retro fashion irony. They were genuinely 80's warriors. In fact they pre-dated irony which actually made them twice removed ironic. Like an Irony Paradigm. You don't see many of them these post-modern ironic retro days. It was refreshing to see a couple genuinely dress badly.
I bumped into Dr John and had a brief but perplexing conversation. I asked him, "How long have you been fasting manager?" Averting my gaze he said, "I fast every year". I repeated the question but louder. "Oh, sorry" he said, averting once more, "Buzz used to be restaurant manager, fast manger, everything manager before he built a couple of villas up there in the mountains and hired them out." I was rather stunned by this reply. It took me a few seconds to wonder what the fuck was going on before I said. "Who's Buzz?". Dr John looked at me as if I was a piece of 'deep cleansed stool', like I should know Buzz as an old friend, "He was the fasting manager before me". "oh" I said and immediately left none- the wiser. What an odd man. Dr John, not Buzz. Buzz sounds cool, I'd like to hang out with him in his Villa's. I bet he looks you in they eye and answers a straight question.
Both morning and evening colema's were particularly nasty. Definitely something to be endured not enjoyed. The opposite of my life Motto.
However, the afternoon colema was made a little easier after a brief chat with a fellow faster and really interesting dreadlocked Grandmother from Portland. USA. She imported Sari's and jewellery from India to Portland. We talked about Goa and India and all the vivid colours and extremities it offered. We talked about fasting, the world and globalisation. When I asked her what Portland was like she replied, "alternative, but it's become gentrified". This sparked a 5 minute chat about how all the cool, creative artistic areas are becoming less affordable or 'gentrified. I offered up Kings Road, Notting Hill, Shoreditch and Kensington as examples in London of independent creative hubs that were now full of dull and samey investment bankers or similar types who can only afford to live there.
I became somewhat misty eyed and sentimental when I recalled to her the Kings Road of when I was 14 or the individual fashion stores at Kensington Market. She was kind and patient and when she asked what was Kensington Market was like these days, I replied "Maplin."
We both rather gloomily agreed this is a world problem and centred around capitalism and with a new unity forged we disappeared into traps 7 and 9 to shit ourselves.
Fasting is a great leveller. There we were discussing globalisation, vibrations and energy flows with her looking like the coolest granny you would ever see and me looking like David Hasselhoff in Speedos. Still I gave a good account of myself and seemed far more worldly than I really am. I think I just about pulled it off. She seemed impressed.
Back at the pool I got chatting to someone. After 10 minutes of idle chat, the waiter came over and placed a massive bowl of crinkle cut French fries in front of them. 'Holy fuck, how good do they look?" I remarked. "Did you know I was fasting?" "Sorry no, do you mind if I eat them?" "Not at all", I lied. I watched them eat every mouthful. They looked like the best chips I've ever seen. Golden, lightly fried, you could even hear the little crunch as they bit. "How good are they out of 10? I asked. "7.5" was the reply. They looked like a 15 to me but I was pleased with 7.5, though I think they underplayed it to manage my hunger. When they finished I found myself getting a little closer to them in the vague hope I could smell the chips on their breath. Then I realised how creepy it was. Fasting does that to you sometimes.
I ran again in the evening. My IM coach will be pleased. But not at the pace. In fairness I did pass two people on the steepest climb. But they were Thai pensioners, one of which had a limp.
I got my favourite vantage point, it was a little lighter tonight, so I was able to climb onto the rock jutting over the sea, waves crashing below me and stars twinkling above. There were no urinating dogs tonight so I was able to meditate for a full 10 minutes.
I decided the Sea is my Higher power. It doesn't give a fuck. It just rolls in and out relentlessly, waves constantly crashing and it's bigger than me.
On the bare-chested run back, I was applauded and bowed at by 4 Thai's leaving a restaurant. Granted they were pissed but they seemed to be impressed by my sweaty efforts. I like Thailand, the people are sweet. In England when you run bare-chested all you tend to get from people is a loud, "wanker!"
I have to admit diary, I caved in and drank a can of Schweppes Lime soda tonight after the run. It was a moment of weakness and I'm sorry. I know it's a slippery slope, after all i'm an addict and one lime/soda could lead to two, then a banana, then a pizza and before I know it i'm knee deep in deep fried ping pong balls and ladyboys.
I'll be a good boy tomorrow and ensure it won't happen.
Love you long time
Nicholas 'Thai-boy' Evans
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