30 May 2009

Today is a good day I think. I'm feeling quite bright, the sun is shining, and whilst not quite filled with energy, I feel pretty much ok.

Things are beginning to fall into place in terms of life. Well, the tricky, administrative matters at least. The benefits people are sort of playing ball, given a little nudge here and there, and at last I feel as much in control of things as I think is reasonable under the circumstances.

My personal life is still a bit of a mess but I have friends who give me encouragement, and whilst I don't quite believe that every failure is an opportunity, things don't look quite as black as they have in the past. I don't leap with hope at every 'ping' of an email arriving, when I know that chances are they will be spam offering me cut price Viagra, penis enlargement techniques and dating sites populated by excessive numbers of Russian hookers.

So perhaps today really is the first day of the rest of my life.

27 May 2009

It is finished. At last, today, through the kindness of a number of people, I am finally able to move on with my life. I don't imagine for one moment it will be easy; I've never found it particularly easy to let go of anyone that I have felt close to. But I have had the support and counsel of a numbr of people who understand me. Some of it has been quite brutal, but none of it unreasonable.

In some ways, it would perhaps be easier if I found myself in more stereotypical situations. I can distinctly remember conversations where people have talked about their in-laws in less-than glowing terms - the 'mother-in-law' jokes of yesteryear, of Les Dawson, Reginald Perrin and the like. But I have never experienced that. I still get on well with my ex-wife's mother. I got on well with my ex-girlfriend's father, and it was he who helped me finally to resolve the tortuous situation with her.

A cynical person might say that he had an ulterior motive for doing so but, based on my experience today, I doubt that. There was a genuine warmth and concern discernible in him, and he made what could have been very difficult encounter amicable and as painless as it could have been.

For sure I was not the ideal partner for his daughter; every father has, I am sure, a vision of his progeny partnered with someone who will bring as much to the relationship as they stand to gain from it. With the MS I looked, at he most generous assessment, as a bad bet. That my finances are now exhausted whilst I am still spliced, legally at least, to my wife (although I refer to her as my ex, the marriage has never been formally terminated) makes me a less-than perfect prospect. But that was never an apparent issue. Perhaps he is just kind, and unwilling to hurt me. I will never know.

All I do know is that he was kind to me when I needed him to be, helpful when I was batting my head against a brick wall in trying, admittedly in a rather ham-fisted manner, to resolve the dying embers of my relationship. For that I am, and will remain, grateful.

25 May 2009

It has been a strange weekend. For the most part I have felt exhausted. Friday was a bit weird to say the least. I picked my younger son up from school which would have been fine if I had managed to have a nap beforehand but time ran out on me. I went to see my parents to drop off the papers that my mum had given me for the family tree project I am working on.

I took Charlie back and decided to go home to sleep rather than sleep beforehand.

I had got halfway home when my youngest brother phoned to ask if I could pop round to give him some advice. So I turned back and drove in the opposite direction from my bed.

I always like seeing any, or all, of my brothers. Whilst down the years we have had our differences, nowadays we get on very well. And I always love seeing my nephews and niece.

When I got to my brother's house, he was still en route from work but I had a coffee with my lovely sister-in-law and chatted away.

My brother arrived and produced a box containing a shiny new television to replace the one in my bedroom that had packed up, a present from all of my brothers.

I sat there and felt the tears well up in my eyes, but fought them back. It blew me away that they would do such a kind thing. I stayed for dinner and finally left about 9.

Didn't get to bed finally until about 12, totally exhausted but very very happy.

On Saturday, my sons gave me another early birthday present! A signed first edition of Stephen Fry in America. That completed my feelings of truly being blessed by love and kindness.

And now it is my birthday. 2.30am so only just. I have been ambivalent about my own birthday for many years. Not that getting older has bothered me. But rarely have kind and thoughtful gestures meant so much to me.

21 May 2009

I woke early, had a bit of breakfast and fiddled with a few bits and pieces then went back to bed, to finish my night's sleep.

It was weird. I'm not usually aware of dreaming, and certainly don't recall it after waking, but this was truly bizarre.

I drove to a party at the house I lived at the house I lived at with my parents until I was 16, but in the car I have now. Come to that, I couldn't drive at 16, but never mind. There were a lot of cars around so I had to park up the road from the house. I can't remember too much about the party, other than that the interior dimensions of the house were way larger than reality. There were large tables around which were sat people that I think I mostly recognised, family friends and the like. I recall having a dispute with my elder son over something, and deciding to leave without either of my boys. When I left, I couldn't find my car. I looked up the road, to where I had parked it, and down the road, just in case, but couldn't see it anywhere. I walked as far as I could both up the road and down it, aware in my dream of the limitations on distance that MS places on me in real life. I can't recall using my walking stick.

I can remember being totally bemused by the apparent disappearance of the car, running through the fact that it could be broken into as easily as any other car, but not stolen. I remember explaining to one of my brother that it could have been towed away, but this would have required it to be loaded onto a vehicle transporter and that, being 4 wheel drive and in gear when I left it, it would have had to be lifted. I looked for my dad or one of my brothers to drive me around the locality looking for it, but couldn't find anyone.

Then I remember being in another location, outside, where I met a number of people from my youth, from church I think, who all greeted me warmly and clearly knew about the MS. I was surrounded by a small crowd of them, including a young woman who I didn't recognise. I do recall that she was not especially attractive (I'm apparently just as shallow in my dreams as in real life) but with no clearly defined facial features. Then for some reason, and defying the usual rules of limitation on clothing size, leave alone social etiquette, she slipped into my shirt from behind me, so that we were both inside it, and worked her way round to be in front of me, still inside my shirt. I can recall being stood next to the fridge, although I'm not sure it was the fridge in any kitchen I'm familiar with.

It was so weird, not especially disturbing, but weird, so I thought I'd better write it down, before it becomes just another vague memory, probably (and properly) forgotten.

20 May 2009

I have been reflecting a lot lately. Perhaps it's in my nature to do so, perhaps it's having time on my hands, and perhaps it's because the MS demands so much of me and thinking takes up so little energy. Probably a bit of each.

Anyway, I was thinking about what I got from my last relationship. I think I have already mentioned that it has made me more cautious - well, it remains to be seen if that is in fact the case, but let's say it have given me the intention of being more cautious in future, at least with regard to relationships. Time, of course, will tell.

But what I was thinking about were the positives that I can draw from what was, after all, a very positive couple of years. These I think are the things that will endure.

Teaching me to drive an automatic properly. This falls firmly into the 'old dogs, new tricks' category. I didn't realise it, but I drove the automatic like it was a manual. I've driven automatics before, and never thought much about it. Just remember to tuck your left leg out of the way and 'job done'. Not so. My main crime was not to lift off the accelerator when approaching a junction, apparently. I of course resisted. I've been driving for nearly 30 years. What can anyone teach me about driving? Pah! Well, she was right, and my fuel consumption proves it.

I also learned that there is someone more stubborn than me. Not that it's always a bad thing. It serves as a reminder of the fundamental difference between men and women that when a woman wants to let off steam about something, sometimes she is just doing that, not inviting a man's opinion or asking him to provide a solution, just a sympathetic ear.

It was nice to be needed for some of the more mundane things in life. Fixing the handle on the toilet, getting the TV aerial working, installing an alarm system, securing the back door where some scumbag had a go at digging into the lock, fixing the wheel on her son's car. The kind of things I have always enjoyed doing, but have been a rarity of late.

I was also privileged to be allowed to share in her children's lives. I know it requires an enormous amount of trust for a woman to have her kids in the same environment as a man who isn't their father, far less leave them in his care. It felt very special to achieve that level of trust. I know that changing a kid's nappy, or bathing him or reading him a bedtime story isn't everyone's idea of a good time, but I enjoyed it. I enjoyed it when my own boys were small, and nothing has really changed. Especially reading bedtime stories. Although I never quite got him to the stage of actually falling asleep to a story (but then my own younger son didn't fall asleep until I stopped reading), and more often than not I would fall asleep first - waking half an hour later to find he'd given up the fight and decided to call it a day.

So, all in all, it was a very positive, and in many ways humbling, experience. Aside from the warmth and love that was very precious, and made me feel good at a very vulnerable time in my life, it was a couple of years that I shall look back on with fondness.

19 May 2009

Life is a voyage of self-discovery. Well, perhaps not quite to self-discovery. I suppose it's something I've always known but perhaps never acknowledged.

This evening I had the option of watching Last Action Hero or Notting Hill on TV. Not to mention the 600 or so DVDs on my shelves, including Notting Hill. And yet I chose to watch Notting Hill, despite having seen it many many times before.

It's like Love Actually, or any one of a myriad romantic films. I will still watch them when they come on TV, despite having seen them over and over. The fact that I am incredibly tired, at the end of a long day, I still watch it to the end.

I really to personify the hopeless in hopeless romantic. Yearning after a happy ending that is certain ever to elude me.

On a more positive note, I had a very pleasant conversation with the man who, but for my many and manifest errors, might have become my next father-in-law. He listened to me politely, and kindly agreed to help out, if he can, in resolving the mess that the end on my relationship has become. Although I sometimes only realise it too late for it to be of any real use, I have always been blessed to be surrounded by such kind people.

I know I should feel grateful for my life, but sometimes it's only too easy to realise how lucky I am when it's too late. Although I have no regrets about my life pre-MS, had I known that my life would change irreversibly, I could have, perhaps would have, done things differently, done more things, whilst I was still able to.

Similarly with my relationships. It's so true that "you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone" (Joni Mitchell, Big Yellow Taxi, since you ask).

18 May 2009

And so it is...

At last I have the answer that I was seeking for so long. I now know that there is no prospect of anything from my last relationship. I still didn't get what I really wanted, more than anything, which was clarity over what went wrong, all the mixed messages I was receiving, but at least I know that it is over, which is at least something.

I am left to ponder the reasons, but I can put my own construct on that, and it's not pretty. At best it was the MS, the difficulties of dealing with uncertainty which, I have to be honest, I don't much like and, were I C, I might well have come to the same conclusion. At worst, it is things that are really too unpalatable to contemplate, and too unpleasant to even hint at here. And which, if they were true, would call into question my judgement of my partners, past and future. That's something I don't want to begin to think about.

My dear friend H has told me I am silly, too emotional and too tied to a dream of finding someone who is as near perfect as I can. Perhaps she's right. For sure I have a dream, but perhaps the girl of my dreams is just that. As I am under no illusions that I might be the man of anybody's dreams. Possibly the man of many peoples' nightmares, but not dreams.

That is not to deny my many finer qualities, but I'm not sure they're enough to keep anyone happy for long. If after two years C was unconvinced that my finer qualities were worth putting up with the MS, and my present impoverished situation, and my depression (a fairly constant companion of late, since my experience with discrimination that really knocked me for six), then I don't see much positive in my future with regard to relationships.

Perhaps I have to find contentment in my present state, or place less importance on honesty and integrity than hitherto. I'm not sure why I should expect less from others that I expect of myself, but then perhaps I am also unrealistic about the other influences that we all have in our lives. Although it still grates a bit that my own shortcomings should somehow take on greater significance than those of others.

17 May 2009

Why can't life be more straightforward? As if I didn't have enough to deal with as it is, now I find myself immersed in mystery as well. Well, perhaps mystery is too strong a term, but being to type of person I am, I like to understand what's what. And I don't.

Although I've pretty much given up on dating for the time being - I need to take time out and get my head together before I even give a passing thought to dating - I received an email from a dating site that I signed up on. Apparently someone had taken my 'match me' test. Well, it's not exactly mine, it's an algorithm-based method by which a computer tries to predict who'd be suited to me, and I suppose vice versa. Fine if I was looking to date a computer no doubt. Anyway, the thing is that by the time I had received the email, and logged into the site, the person - or persons - unknown (matched by 73%, since you ask) had deleted their profile. Why? Was it such a shock to get the result? Fear that I might be offended/intrigued/excited/disappointed (insert your own choice of verb).

Now, I can deal with the girls that look like American hookers adding me as 'favourites' (yes, there were two of those as well), and I can deal with rejection. But why then delete the profile? If it is someone who knows me, then why take the test? Surely they know me better than any test will tell them. Morbid curiosity? Perhaps. Knowing that it will puzzle me, and wanting to enjoy the thought that I will waste my time wondering? Maybe.

All I can say is that whoever it was achieved their aim!

16 May 2009

So, here I am at 6am, writing. Knowing I'd have to be up early, I dutifully retired early to bed. I suppose I ought to have known that I would only sleep for so long in one slug.

I woke at 4.50. Got up, wasted a bit of time, trying to get back to sleep, did the washing up, then finally laid back down at about 5.50. But sleep eluded me.

So now I'm killing time. I have to drive 60 miles this morning, and of course 60 miles back again. I'll be able to grab some kip in between, but it's a far cry from the days when I drove 10 hours from Loch Lomond to home with barely a break.

I know I'm older now and it wouldn't be so easy anyway, but a 120 mile round trip ought to be a breeze. But it's not.

Update:

It's the end of the day, and I made it through, without too much drama. It would have been helpful if I hadn't forgotten to take my meds, but giving in to the fatigue and sleeping a couple of times (well, three, including after I got home) helped me. I was even able to be of some help, even if it was only waving my arms to the guy operating the concrete pump to tell him to start/stop. But we all have our part to play, and my arms still wave, even under my control.

15 May 2009

I realised today quite why I am so unhappy with life at present. I wrote yesterday about wishing my life was more Michael Scofield and less like Jack Bauer. This morning whilst driving to my physio appointment I was, as usual, listening to music on my iPod. I realised just how many of the songs that I listen to often, and probably the songs in my music collection generally, are the James Blunt/Joss Stone/Missy Higgins type of love songs, or songs about failed relationships, lost love, etc etc. I suppose it just demonstrates that I'm a sentimental old thing, so many of the songs could be about me and my life. They make me sad, and yet I still listen to them, over and over.

I guess I'm a glutton for punishment.

14 May 2009

I have become a victim of Prison Break. Not specifically of course, but all the 'love conquers all adversity' type of dramas. The ones where a flawed male wins the girl despite all his shortcomings. It sets up expectations that will never be achievable.

At the moment I feel more like Jack Bauer in '24'. Fated to fall in love and have it snatched away from him. Oh to be Michael Scofield.

14 May 2009

I’ve realised, after much more time than is good for me, that I need to move on. Not just in terms of my relationships past, but in terms of relationships generally. I had, perhaps naively, thought that I could have a relationship and integrate it into my life. I can’t. Too many people have a stake in my life, and even more seem to feel that they do, for me to be able to form a successful relationship. Maybe in the future, but certainly not right now.

My boys have always been my top priority, and that will never change. It has led to me making decisions that have made it impossible to forge a successful relationship. Not that for a moment I regret the decisions I made. I learned long ago to have no regrets. I can learn from past mistakes, in the hope of avoiding them in future, but it is futile to regret them.

The biggest mistake was to throw myself into a relationship, to kid myself that it would work, when I should have been able to see that the odds were stacked against me. I have always given my heart too readily, been willing to make declarations of love too readily. Not that it hasn’t been sincere. I don’t believe in saying anything that isn’t sincere, and I hope that I’m very in touch with my feelings and able to read and express them in an open and appropriate way, at an appropriate time.

I did love E, and K and C, and one or two others as well along the way; in many ways I still do. I was ‘in love’ with them but failed to appreciate the point at which being ‘in love’ segues into just loving them – into a deep and enduring fondness and respect. I have learned that the concept of ‘one true love for life’, whilst undoubtedly making sense and being true for some, is a crock of shit for me. Or at least so it has proved.

Because I have failed to appreciate the point at which it all changes, I have caused those others unhappiness. E, perhaps because she is the mother of my boys, has been endlessly tolerant and forgiving of my flaws, for which I remain eternally grateful. So far as K and C are concerned, there was no such connection to provide the driver for tolerance.

I have been a victim of my own openness and honesty. What I saw as a virtue, and I think in most cases others did too, has been my undoing. I need to find a way of achieving balance in the future if I am to have any hope of success in a relationship.

But that is entirely my responsibility, nobody else’s.

13 May 2009

For the past couple of days I've been feeling... I don't know, can't quite put my finger on it. Low might be as good word, but not right. Disconnected? Directionless? Whatever it is, I know I need to do something about it.

I've always been aware of the need to see where I'm going, at least to have some idea of what the future holds, so that I can maybe influence it, or at least prepare for it. But I also know that a major character law, which has only been made worse by the MS, is a seeming inability to let go. I cling to the past, to the familiar, to what I perceive as 'safety', however unrealistic it has become. I know in my logical mind that it is futile, and yet I still do it.

Today I have realised, and I think - I hope - accepted, that I need to deal with it.

I have used this diary as a means of getting my feelings down, but I have also been putting them in the public domain. Well, that's probably a little grandiose. Although in theory this is public, I don't imagine for a moment that anyone barring a few people who actually know me reads this.

So I need to move on. Quit baring my soul for everyone to see. Keep my inner feelings a little more private, perhaps. Yes, that's it. I find myself sitting in my flat, writing down my innermost thoughts and feelings, and the only thing that leaves my flat is my words. Not me.

Today is the day that I try to put the past behind me. Today I have resolved to stop clinging on to the safe, that is unattainable, and therefore not safe at all. I have realised that by exposing myself, I have made myself vulnerable and weak. I can't afford to do that any more.

I had lunch with L yesterday. I have found, over the relatively short time I have really known her, that she provides a sort of mirror to me. Although our difficulties are very different, there are parallels. We connect on a fairly deep level, that I can't really explain. Normally, I would refrain from making such a bold statement, preferring to have confirmation of a connection from the other party. But it's unnecessary. It doesn't matter whether L feels the same, whether she shares the realisation of a connection. It's important to me because talking to her, whether it's me talking or her, seems to bring a little clarity to my thoughts. The more I know about her, her situation, her battles and her demons, the more I understand about my own.

I can't explain it, not in any clear way, that would make sense to anyone but me. But then this is my diary, my catharsis, my way of communicating with myself.

So today, I try to let go of the past. Finally. Unequivocally. No more prevarication. How much easier is it to use such powerful words than to live by them? But I must try, for my own sake. For my self-preservation.

12 May 2009

My mother has always been on at me about smoking. Well, on and off. Because my smoking has been on and off. I smoked from about 14 to 30, then gave up. I started when I was in my late 30's I think, then stopped again about when I was about 45. Then started again whilst I was going through the process that resulted in my diagnosis.

The reasons for starting again could be attributed to stress, I suppose. But I think that is only part of the answer. Although, like most kids I expect, I originally started smoking to feel more grown up, I actually did enjoy it. I always have. Sure, there's no doubt an element of addiction to it, but I don't think that's anywhere near as significant as the 'habit-forming' aspect of it. It became inextricably linked with 'balance' - a pint in one hand and a fag in the other at the pub; a meal in a restaurant followed by a puff; a hectic day in the office broken up by reaching for a pack of 20. All part of the balance in my life.

Why after nearly 10 years off the weed did I start again? I have given it a lot of thought, and the only reason I can think of is this. I first gave up because my ex wanted me to. She didn't want another car smelling of smoke, so we did a deal: a new car if I gave up smoking. So when we separated, one of the first things I did was start smoking again. Similarly, when I wanted to date someone who was vehemently anti-smoking (although an ex-smoker herself), I gave up. When she ditched me soon after the first symptoms of what was later to be diagnosed as MS appeared, I started smoking again. It was all quite simple really. Elementary cause and effect. I didn't give up because I wanted to, but vicariously for somebody else each time. When I no longer felt an obligation to that person, I started smoking again.

I know it's bad for me, a waste of money that - especially now - I just don't have, but there we are.

My mother has always made comments like "you smell smokey", but they didn't have any effect. In myself, they just felt like another attempt to control me. I know that's neither fair nor a realistic evaluation, but still. The other day she tried a different tack, suggesting that it would be dreadful if a cure for MS was discovered and then I was found to have cancer caused by the cigarettes. I replied that at least I'd have something that could either be cured, or not. That it would either see me off, or I'd see it off. That at least I'd know what the score was.

That it would be preferable to the living death of MS.

10 May 2009

I have decided that, after all, I don't feel so insecure without the spare key to my car. I can't recall ever having lost an important key in my life and it really isn't important.

This has otherwise been a weekend of achievement. Well, kind of. In the small ways that please me nowadays anyway. I had undertaken to provide lunch for the workers at the bungalow. When I say workers, of course, I mean my younger son, my brothers, some of my nephews and my parents, but they were the ones involved in the work - well, those who weren't playing, whilst I could only manage to sit and watch. But at least I could do something.

I suppose I had already done something, having driven to the wholly inappropriately-named Silvertown to collect steel reinforcement. This having been rattling around in the back of my car for a couple of days was a relief to offload, but at last I felt I'd made some contribution.

But back to the lunch. I had volunteered to cook, in the absence of the (relatively) fit and healthy womenfolk on the Race for Life. It sounds appallingly sexist to be reliant on the women for sustenance, but any of them who prefer to be digging or clambering around fixing roof tiles have always been welcomed with open arms. That they have generally opted to perform the equally valued role of 'tea lady' is just the way it has been. So it was that my Saturday evening was spent browning mince and peeling potatoes to make the three Shepherds Pies that would be needed to satisfy the crew. I am pleased to report that I completed the task, with assistance from my father - a veteran 'spud basher' - and the resulting fare was devoured with appropriate speed.

I have always enjoyed cooking, but never for its own sake. I take no pleasure in seeing the finished product sitting on the table, but only in the empty dishes and filled tummies that results. Today, I was able to derive much satisfaction from that. The quantity was sufficient for as many seconds (or thirds) as anyone wanted, with only the tiniest amount remaining. And the preparation was completed with only minor discomfort tanks to the stool thoughtfully provided by my mother, on which I was able to perch and minimise the now-customary fatigue in my legs.

All in all, a most satisfactory weekend, where I was at last able to feel that I made a positive contribution. It may not sound like much, but these days I take my pleasures where I can get them.

8 May 2009

Well I got the first bit of good news in some time. It seems my application for housing benefit has finally been approved. It should mean that at least i'm secure in my flat for the time being and in a sense secure financially; my needs are pretty basic and I may even be able to afford the odd little luxury that is more than filling the car with diesel!

Still no word from C. Not that I especially expected to hear from her, but I did ask if she would be kind enough to post the spare key for my car back to me. It's strange how insecure I feel about something so basic when the car has become such a lifeline. But I guess that's just the way it is now and I'd better get used to it.

3 May 2009

It has been a strange weekend. Weekend of both clarity and confusion, happiness and sadness.

It was a working weekend at Tenby, the holiday bungalow that my brothers and I built between us. It is full of happy memories for me. Memories of days when I could do things that a normal person can do. We have photos a;; around the place of us building it. Yes, happy memories.

But sad too. I watched as my brothers, sons, nephews, worked away and played and laughed. All I could do was to watch, offer the odd bit of advice - which anyone could probably have done. I know they don't resent it, but I do. I hate the fact that I can't join in. I love to watch the progress - I always did, but then I was part of it. Now I can't even chip in my share of the costs. It kills me. Somehow, it feels like a little piece of me has died.

I love being with my family, but I hate what MS has done to me.

Then it has been a continuation of the confusion over C. My ex-wife has become my confidante in some ways. We get on better than we have in years, but that nay be as much to do with me being an easier person to be friends with than a wife. She thinks it is unlike me to give up so easily if I really want something. I don't think I am giving up with C, I'm just having to accept that it's a situation I can't understand, C doesn't want to talk about it, so I either live with uncertainty and wait, or walk away. Which isn't much of an alternative, if the end result of waiting is that there's nothing.

I also talked to H. She is a dear friend who knows me as well as anyone. She knows I'm irritating and pedantic, pretty much all of my flaws, so she's a good judge of situations. She listened and asked me things, and then said that if I'm so hung up on C, I should just marry her. Well thanks for that! Always direct to the point of bluntness.

I am emotionally exhausted. This is how I felt on Friday, when I had made up my mind to just walk away. Since getting MS, I have had two relationships - one before the diagnosis - both of which have ended with me feeling lost, alone and smoking too much. I don't think I'm cut out for relationships. Not now anyway. I can take all the ups and downs, well mostly, and I crave the intimacy and warmth of a partner. But the pendulum swing of the loss is more than I can bear. So I get obsessive and my logical brain kicks into overdrive, demanding answers that probably aren't there. And when I can't find answers, I just feel more lost, more alone, more abandoned.

It seems the MS has left me more vulnerable than ever, and less well-equipped to deal with it.