Days

I don’t know. I really don’t. Probably not the best way to start a post but I am at a total loss at the moment. Everything seems to be so much blummin effort. The days seem three times longer than normal, I am sleeping more, which makes the days being longer thing even more bizarre. I just get into the swing of things and it takes a left turn into strangeworld. When I got up for the first time this morning I had a little pep about me. I had taken my last two Zopiclones last night so I thought I would be a zombie till lunch time like I have been for the past few days that I have taken them, but no. This morning I could have taken on the world. This lasted for about two and a half hours when all of a sudden Zombieland struck and i needed to lay down again.

Once i woke up again at about noonish I came down and found a letter from the DWP. Ahhhh I thought to myself, news about the old DLA claim. So I grab the letter and head to the lean to for a smokiedokey and to read the joys of benefit living. Rolled my cigarette and opened the letter. First thing that struck me was

Care Component
NOT ENTITLED

Well you could have knocked me on my ass with a wet feather. Not 18 months ago I had been awarded both mobility and care at lower rate and we had copied the forms almost verbatim. The forms had changed a little in the interim but not that much. Looking at the reply they sent to me and the reasons they gave for not awarding the care component it’s worded very cleverly so as to be very difficult for me to appeal the decision. We are all going to sit down and see what we can come up with at the weekend and if it turns out that we can work out some additional info that will help us and not make us sound like lieing scum that the Daily Mail would have everyone believe I am then I’ll call them on Monday or Tuesday and see if the will look into my case again.

The relaxation group was cancelled yesterday. I didn’t find that little nugget of joy out until I actually got the meeting place. If I had checked my answering machine I need not have gotten out of my Pyjamas and spent the money of taxi fares two ways. As my mum put it….” At least it got you out of the house for twenty minutes” to which she got a mumbled “Bollocks” back.

I am finding it harder and harder to relate to anything lately. It’s getting hard for me to open up about how  ma feeling to anyone. I am afraid that if I do they are just going to brush it off. Mum and my wife are always asking “whats up” I don’t know how much long “I dunno” is going to work for. It’s wearing pretty thin with me fuck knows what it’s doing to them. I just want the misery to ease up for a few hours. let me be the happy happy me for a while. Just give me that and I’ll be miserable for as long as you want after that.

Until Next Time…

Smaller Stuff.

I said a week or so ago that I would post some of my other artistic endeavours. I forgot about it and it was only when I was adding the last post that I scrolled down through my pages and saw that I had said I would do it. So here you go some of the forum sig files that I have done. They are all classed as being beginner standard but every small step makes a little dent in my useless barrier.

blueyezPaulsig1webpaultechsigweb2ZKBatmanZKTech

So there you have it. That is how I have been keeping myself busy. They are not much but every step to me at the moment is a big one. When I first got a copy of photoshop it was because my old programme didn’t do what I wanted it to any more. I was daunted and I beat myself up over getting the damn programme to do what I wanted it to do and not what it wanted to do…Photoshop is like that…has a mind of it’s own.

In other related news. I have been invited to a relaxation workshop tomorrow. It’s being run for the next 6 weeks and it’s done by the same woman who does my anxiety management meetings. Hopefully I’ll get a lot out of it… if not then at least once a week for an hour I will be chilled out.

Until Next Time…

Stop The X Factor Madness

It’s Saturday night and that means one thing… FUCKIN’ X FACTOR on TV for two hours. Have I mentioned how much I hate that programme… I dunno if I have or not but needless to say it’s not in my top million shows to ever have to sit through. Hell I’d even prefer to watch Coronation Street than watch that pile of dog shit TV show. It has no redeeming features what so ever. It gives people false hope and feeds into this society’s need for fame and fortune via the easiest most work shy path with the least amount of resistance. There is a need for these vacuous TV shows. It gives the population false hope that even the little people can make it one day if only they turn up to a cattle call audition. PAH, I just wasted ten minutes ranting over something like that.

Back to me, yet another waste of time…

I saw my psychiatrist yesterday. First time since may of this year. I was getting a little worried that I had been forgotten by them. I saw him during week two of my medication management sessions and I thought at the time it was a bit of a waste of people time seeing both. I mentioned as such and they agreed, so I was (it seems) put to the back of the list only to be seen when all hope was lost.

I mentioned to him that I was having trouble with my moods and that was leading to sleep problems and without missing a beat he prescribed me sleeping pills. It was almost to easy. Not that I was angling for yet another pill to take but damn it I needed something to help me sleep when I was awake at 5 am watching Smallville knowing that the past two days and quite possibly the next two days would be more of the same. I was a little wary of taking sleeping pills as the last time I was given them I had a really bad side effect… I not only slept the night through but for the next 24 hours I did nothing but sleep. It was a nightmare… I didn’t take them again and flushed the rest of them. There were some dopey sewer rats that night.

I popped two of the Zopiclone at about 10.30 thinking it would be about an hour or so and I could head to bed for a nice restful nights sleep.. HAHAHAHA twenty five minutes later I can’t stop yawning so I say “Sod it” and go to bed. I slept through the night and woke up at about 9am and didn’t feel all that bad, still pretty tired but not out of it. Hell it’s Saturday so I can afford to go back to bed and sleep a little longer… again HAHAHAHAHA I wake up again at about 14.30.

I feel fine now and I just hope that I don’t have problems sleeping tonight. I hope that there is enough of the drug left in my system to mellow me out for tonight without having to take any more. If I don’t take any more and have a dodgy night I’ll just ride the wave and see what happens. After finding myself becoming a little reliant on Lorazapam, I don’t need another possible addiction to kick in.

When the psych asked me how I was doing I had to think.. “..now, does he mean how am I now or how was I 6 months ago”
I gave him the potted history of the moods going up and down and the sleep messing with me left right and centre and that was it. It was pretty much all over before it had started. He is still worried about me being on so much Respiridone so I gave in and let him reduce it by 1mg down to 6mgs a day. We’ll see how that goes, the last time they messed the Respiridone I was on a tailspin in a matter of days. I guess we’ll find out by the end of next week.

I am hoping I can get some minor work done on the website done in the next few days, but Nik is real busy at the moment but when it happens it shouldn’t take to long but If you happen to be here and things go funky you know why.

Until Next Time…

Money… It’s a Crime

So it seems that our beloved leaders want to screw the disabled over. It doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. They need a soft target and they need to appeal to the masses and seeing as the masses consist of Sun and Mail readers, they are going to go in hard for the “work-shy scroungers.”
It is those two papers that most often hammer it home that there are to many people falsely claiming benefits. I just prey that those who are screaming the loudest about saving £25 a week from IB claimants never get sick and need to claim benefits, because I have heard Karma is a bitch when it bites back.

Looking back over my life I have never had much money. I have never really wanted for anything. I have always been of the mind if I can’t afford it I probably don’t need it. That train of thought was always a bit suspect when I was Living on my own and had only rice and frozen peas in the cupboard and freezer respectively. Yes we got ourselves in debt now and again but it’s always been a source of pride that if I have spent the money I will find away of paying it back. Which brings me to the problem we have at the moment with our bank.

In December they are changing the way they run our account. They are no longer going to be making one off charges for going over your over draft. They are just going to charge you a fiver a day until you get it back into credit. That’s no to mention the £1 a day for having and using an overdraft. So on bad months it could be a case of accruing £6 a day in fees plus having to find the money to get back into the black. Now that (in an ideal world) is a lot more fair than the system they have at the moment, EXCEPT… we haven’t been out of our overdraft in over a year. It’s going to be tough to get our account under our overdraft in time for the December account changes. We are in our £1300 overdraft at the moment and we have been told that there is an account that gives you a £300 pound fee free overdraft (I have a feeling you have to pay some serious fees for the privilege of having this type of account.)We have a meeting with an advisor next Monday to talk over our account options. Which ever way it goes it’s going to end up costing us money. I really need a lottery win right about now. Anything above 2 grand will do.. I can pay off my debts and have a Chinese dinner and we’ll all be happy. Not that 2 grand will pay them all off but it will stop the main ones stealing even more money. One other thing I need to do is look into claiming back some of the fees they have taken in the past. That on it’s own could pay off a bill or two.

Anyway, money it’s a dirty word and I apologise for ranting away and pissing and moaning. Everyone must be having it hard about now and there are far more people worse of than I am so maybe I should just shut my pie hole and get on with paying the fees.

Until Next Time…

Showing Off

Well after so much build up, the art exhibition finally opened this past Saturday. Friday night I was thinking of every excuse to call them and pull my shit out of the show. I couldn’t come up with one excuse other than I think it’s poop on a stick and I don’t want to be embarrassed.

Saturday morning rolled around, I was up at 5.30am just sitting here thinking up more excuses. I could get there well before it opened and get in there and remove the offending articles before the show opened. Again I couldn’t think of a way to break in and do the do. I had one other slight flaw in my plan. I didn’t know which unit in town the exhibition was being held in. I knew it was in the centre of town but I was stupid enough not to ask the person I spoke to on Thursday where it was being held.

At one point, a person told me it was going to be held in the Cinema suite in the new part of the shopping centre. So Saturday morning I made the choice that we would start at that end of town looking for the show. So off we tootle and we get to town and start walking through the new part of town looking at every shop for people in their looking arty. Once we got to the dead centre of Town and we still hadn’t found it I don’t know what was happening… could it be the cosmic fates aligning for me to miss the show and not go through the embarrassment of being around other artists and critical people looking at my digital doodles.

But no Mum had the wise idea to actually ask someone where the exhibition was. Just my luck, he knew and was most helpful in giving us directions and even going as far as offering to walk us around to the show…. damn him… i hope his walkie talkie runs out of batteries.

We were still a bit early so we slowly walked around and joined the throng queuing up to see the Lady Mayor open the exhibition. She was late. Only by a few minutes but it just goes to show that she wasn’t really interested. My first critic… You can probably see by now how paranoid I was by the time 5 past 10 arrived. Once the doors were actually opened I felt my feet being swallowed up by the concrete floor. I felt physically ill. I just didn’t want to go in. But bless my psychologist, who was there to offer support to the MHT and all those who had taken part, he ushered me in and virtually pushed me in.

Once inside I saw my stuff on the walls straight away. it was the two pathetically small pieces on the wall right next to several hand painted collections. I suddenly had my worst fears realised in my own mind… I was a fraud. I had no talent. I was just offering doodles whilst these worthwhile artists showed that they were worthy of being on a wall showing their stuff.

I stood in front of my two pieces and just looked at them framed by the other great stuff and it slowly dawned on me. That it didn’t matter the size of the paper it was what was on the paper. Who is to say what others thought of the digital doodles. No one apart from Mum and Linda commented within my earshot so I don’t really know. Maybe My psych will mention it next time I see him on Friday.

We stayed at the exhibition for about 30 minutes and then I started getting a bit antsy as it really was getting a bit crowded. Ever since I stopped taking the Lorazapam and Diazapam I have a really low tolerance to crowds. We took a final look around and for a split second I looked over my shoulder and wondered what all these people really thought of my stuff. I would never know. Unless that I get a phone call from someone asking to buy the prints when the show is over.. and then the answer would be yes but I would have to know which ward they are in so I could arrange to visit them on visiting day.

Anyway I promised that once the show was open and running that I would post the stuff that I entered. So here it is.

Sour-Puss

This is called Sour Puss

bluesjpg

This is called The Blues

So that’s them. The blues has been posted on here before I think but I didn’t want Sour Puss to be lonely so I posted it again.

I enjoyed making them, and it has given me more of an impetus to do more larger stuff. Once I have it all together I’ll upload some of the smaller ones I have done for forum signatures and Avatars.

Until Next Time…