Sunday, December 6, 2009

Who the hell did that then?

I feel I should be clear about something now. I'm not completely honest on here.

Yes, when I'm blogging well and regularly, I do tend to write an awful lot of my life up on here, but it's far from being a complete picture. What I do, particularly in so far as it relates to my alcohol-related life, is here.

But not everything. There are thoughts I have, and indeed, things I do, which I don't touch upon because they trouble me too much - I am ashamed of them. They worry me and, particularly in the bad times, and particularly when I smoke too much (and, I do, frequently, and if I were completely honest I might start to admit to myself that with canabis, as with alcohol, one's too much) these thoughts make me fear a little for my mental health.

I know I'm depressed, but I'm starting to believe that a lot of that is within my control - however feebly I try to take that control over my life. But, I'm starting to worry that the way I've managed to compartmentalise my life and my thoughts mean something a little more serious.

I've spoken to my counsellor about my splitting of my life into two component parts: one, a public and very, very, controlled and watched life, lived primarily to the end of pleasing others; the other a secret life (much of my drinking life for example) where anything is possible if it's possible to get away with it.

There are parts of my life and myself that I cannot cope with and I think I have convinced myself that someone else is living that life.

Oh joy, it's just gone 11pm, so the children next door - aged at a guess, 3, 6 and 9 - have been moved upstairs before they go to bed. I wonder if tonight they'll watch the telly, loudly, in the room adjoining our bedroom, or perhaps have one of their screaming fights again? It's a school night, so they'll almost certainly be asleep by 1am. I have invented a new secret nickname for them, it doesn't contain any nice words, so I have turned it into an acronym and used it as a label for this post.


Ms Kay said...

Morning Cardiff ,

Its seems to be becoming part of my morning routine to get the dishwasher and washing machine going and then sit down with a cuppa and trawl my fellow bloggers blogs and comment out completely unasked for advice. How did I get to be so annoying . Does this happen to all bloggers??

Anyway. Two thoughts crossed my mind when reading your post which were

a)The smoking thing. I followed the second series of " Dr Drews Celebrity Rehab" recently and one of the "guests" was Gary Busey who had been clean from a mega coke habit for 25 years but didn't get until quite late on in the series that the fact he smoked pure herb ( he called it medicinal weed ) and still drank alcohol were not doing his mental state any favours. It was quite an illuminating series if you can be arsed to try and get it downloaded on utorrent or something

b) The neighbours. I moved in July and in my last place had a woman up above me who was a total nightmare. From where I stand then I would say it seems reasonable to be that you being intimidated by noisy nasty neighbours isn't actually a personality fault and its quite natural. Do you own your own house - if not could go not just move. Life is too short to stuff an olive.

Have a good week Cardiff

The Drinker said...

Evening, Ms Kay,

And, it's a pleasure to be part of your day. Yep, it does happen to... Well, it happened to me and your comments are grist to my ego's mill.

I don't think I'll track down Celebrity Rehad - I've caught a bit of it in the past and it made my head go a bit funny. The point is good though; in hospital grass was smoked and almost everyone was pleased to be off the drink, or the sulphate or the methadone and almost everyone was going to continue toking. The marijuana campaigners are, to my mind, pretty right about drug laws (I'd probably legalise everything and regulate it heavily) but I'm not with those who evangelise the stuff as some sort of elixir of peace and love, I think it's irresponsible.

Yes, we do own our house so we can't move - they weren't here when we moved in. My good self says - and the wisdom to accept the things you can't. My bad, weak, anxious self fears and hates and broods. I'm getting better though and, it's nice to know you think I'm being reasonable.

Take it steady,