Day 195 - Sat 14th July - Negative to Positive

An explanation into what I'm dealing with against my sodding head?

I rarely dream but the last thing i remembered this morning was someone pointing a finger at me saying 'shut the fuck up'. Then I woke up.

Great. Thanks head. Not only do i get to wake up feeling dreadful and terrible, but my head dreams of rejection and low self esteem. Why can't it dream of women with 12 knockers, winning the lottery or people made of corduroy. How dull my mind is sometimes. It's like having Roy Keane as a brain. #ugly

What a positive start to the day. Consumed by resentment of my job, resentful at having to do an AA talk today in Guilford, resented i agreed to go round to an OAP's house and try and fix her computer even though i have about as much IT skills as a packet of Weight Watchers Jaffa Cakes. She may as well get a cat taking a look at the pooter for all the help I'm going to be.

No, i was in an awful head space. All i could see were problems, Oh and i woke up lonely. No-one has fucking texted or called and i only got 2 'likes' on my blog from yesterday. Fucking bastards. Thanks brain.

Of course i spoke to myself at length. Having a long word with myself. prayed like a bastard, wrote a gratitude list through gritted teeth, did a 45 minute cycle, chain smoked cigarettes, drank tea, showered, changed. I was ready for.........bed. Bring on the day.

After fighting resentment at the heavy traffic for 'Guilfest'. Resentment against the amount of needless 4 x 4's on the road in deepest Surrey and feeling sorry for myself for having to drag myself to such hardship, i arrived at the convention to be confronted by what i considered to be a scene from Cocoon. Fuck me, i brought the average age down by 30 years, and I'm now middle aged.

I of course, buried my feelings, slapped on a fake smile and chatted to people, wondering if at any time their pacemakers would give out. #getonwithit

I delivered my 'share'  but still felt disconnected from the meeting, from the group, from the world. Almost Like there was a sheet of glass between me and the rest of the human race. I still had one 'on me'. Carrying around resentment and negativity like a milestone round my head. Bugger it.

I drove back to London, and did what i hadn't done all week, or even for a few weeks, i called people. Friends, both from the gang and outside. I decided to try and not live in my head. I spoke to a few people, arranged to meet a friend who had recently had a liver transplant and now had been diagnosed with Cancer, and also made a revolutionary thought.

If i don't like my situation put some action in to change it. I'm 50k short of investment for my company to go full time, so go and try to get it. Sponsorship, investment, whatever - Just frigging try Evans, stop living in self pity.

After that, i felt instantly better, lighter, more normal, even a little positive. Yes i still had the resentment and fear about current job but it was now at the back of my head, not dominating the front. I was back in 'normal' shape. Thank frigging God.

Met my pal and have to say was rather inspired by his experience. I owned up to him that i found out he had Cancer on Tuesday but was so consumed by my own head, my own shit i kept meaning to call him, but never got round to it. #selfobsessed.

I even admitted to him, such was my selfish thinking all i could think was 'i can't be arsed trekking all the way across to Camberwell again to go to the hospital to see him. how sodding inconvenient. Poor me'. It's staggering such has been the level of my own consumed misery. Seems like my head is my enemy not my friend sometimes.

I also had a Fascinating conversation with someone who suffers similar thinking, they are not an alcoholic and arrive at the positive mindset through their own process. I admire people like that so much. I need people, AA, meetings, God, writing, advice and Malt loaf before i get there. I guess it doesn't matter though what you use, what journey you take, as long as you get there. And today, thank god i got there. For now.

I have also been told that sometimes after an intensive period of stress and grief it is quite normal to get bent out of shape, overwhelmed and a little 'on edge'. So I'm not going to flog myself. No, I'll wait until later to do that (wink, smiley face)

Hopefully this blog will now be a little lighter after the next few days. Who knows i may drop in a couple of jokes. Even laugh and lighten up. I know reading this can sometimes get a bit monotonous when I'm in a bad head space but i guess I'm just trying to be honest how i feel, at least, if nothing else i will look back on this blog and feel I've been brutally true to myself. I think that is something to be proud of.

I'll sign off now, I'm writing this on Sunday afternoon, in my pants, with the Tour De France in the background. I know that's a little too much information, but they are nice pants. Not boxers, or briefs or even cock jocks. They are a little like old school Y-fronts. Not so baggy that your nuts hang out like an old mans pants. They are not too tight like a great big gaylord. They are just pants, on a Sunday afternoon. Sunday afternoon chilling pants. I may even get the teacakes and crumpets out soon. Not from my pants, that would be wrong.

I'll stop now, i'm talking shit. Bye

x