It’s My Life

The plan was to shut down the personal account after the last part of my short story was posted. I’m not waiting until 5pm tomorrow to do this. It’ll happen at 5.15 today. There is really no point in stringing this out any further than necessary. I can’t move on being held back, and looking at what’s happened since this change was implemented? This is the way. It will also encourage me to finally get up to date with the website faffing as well.

The more I realize that many, many people weren’t listening at all, the more important it becomes to cut the chord. My perception of the reality that life was a part of is not necessarily broken, but it is undoubtedly flawed. Mostly I need to stop talking about it and move on, but it’s apparent that this is grief that I’m going through, that after years of using the place as inspiration before everything just dried up, my emotional attachment was far more complex than was at first the case.

So, we’ll move on ahead of schedule.

Living on the Ceiling

I am embarrassed and slightly concerned over just how often I switch browsers. I’ve become used to checking two social media presences, to the point where it has become a habit that needs to be broken. Instead, I have set the second browser’s leading tab to my work website, which is in need of a fair bit of work in the next few days, in the hope that when I do it as an impulse, it’ll automatically push me into beginning something constructive.

There’s also a minor triumph this morning that something which was worth absolutely nothing to me on Monday will now provide an unexpected financial bonus. It’s making me think that perhaps I could sell some more stuff going forward, if I can find space in my brain to accommodate the process. It is certainly worth some thought.

Less blogging, more actual work now.

The Gift

It took me a while to work out why I couldn’t share a Tweet from my personal account any more: it’s because I’ve locked it. It won’t exist on Monday anyway: I finally cut the chord and have decided to shut it down. I know I’ll lose over 2500 followers but honestly, when I interact with probably 150 of those on a regular basis (and nearly 100 have followed me to the new account) it’s not a loss. The people paying attention know I’m off, and I’ve messaged the rest.

It’s the necessary next step in personal evolution.

Yes, there will inevitably be casualties, but this is the moment to grasp that if this matters enough to people, they’ll come and find me. I cannot keep track of everything, and never could really with two ‘main’ accounts on the go simultaneously so, in the end, it was easier to make the choice. It’s not a personal sleight that I’ve ignored or forgotten people, and I hope they’ll understand that. Some will undoubtedly not understand why I’d trash a following on principle.

Those people I’m probably better off not following any more anyway.

Needless to say, starting on the first, an awful lot of stuff is gone for good.

The End of the World

Starting next week, we have building work. We expect it to last at least five months. This is already hugely traumatic for me, and we’ve not even started yet. However, it does explain why, in all these years, we’ve stayed in the same place. Moving would have destroyed me mentally, several times over. For now, packing stuff away is only possible in bursts, but when the urge is there, it is taken with enthusiasm. Lots has vanished this weekend. I’m selling some stuff I thought I’d end up skipping. That’s lovely.

Expect a LOT of photography in the next few months.

It’s Not Over Yet

What I am has been different for most of my adult life. I have moved around extensively, and have altered undoubtedly as a result of understanding what I really am. That journey should, theoretically, never end, until I die. The point is to not be the same person if that is having a negative impact on anything and anyone else, and I can write that and then realize some people will assume it means one thing, when really the opposite is true. The reality of existence is to find your own space and thrive within it. When you struggle to fit the norms, what is the thrive plan going forward?

Well, that’s relatively easy. You’ll find the people who understand and care, you’ll seek out safe spaces in which that can happen, and when it becomes necessary to live in other places which don’t ‘get’ what you are, you can become very adept at camouflage. Except that is not the way it should be. Me being bisexual should not ruin the quality of anybody’s life, but amazingly it has. It has had a negative impact, and will continue to do so, because by not being normal, I am a threat to those who see this as power they cannot control or dictate.

However, these threat levels are nothing compared with my trans mates, who would just like to be allowed to exist but who are right now being hunted, derided and attacked. It’s not fair, and it’s not acceptable, and this is the beginning of a period of our existence as human beings that will define whether we survive as a race or not. History is unblinking and unerring, and will look at this time as the one where it either began to be a societal norm, or it was when it was outlawed. I’m not happy about it, but reckon we could still go either way.

That’s why its up to me now to start making a fuss about a lot of things: disability and accessibility, allowing true freedom of expression, weaning people off commercialism and back to the days where alive meant you just did your own thing and nobody else got in your fucking business. Of course, the rich people are gonna still want your money, but if you can make better, informed choices over what that actually means, that would be helpful. Mostly this is about being true to an authentic self, which is what matters more than anything else in the end.

My daughter’s listening to a lot of songs about death right now, as I did at her age, wrestling with the reality that nobody is ever likely to remember you unless you were the one who made things either massively better or hugely worse for everybody else. I know which side of that history I intend to be on, and we’ll keep plugging away at it until people pull their heads out of their arses and stop saying ‘but I can’t do that, it’s too hard.’ Living and thriving in a World that marks you a freak is HARD, fighting your own brain every day is HARD, please don’t tell me you are struggling when the biggest issue you have is not being able to go on holiday or do ‘normal’ things.

Except they do, and that noise is stopping the real work for taking place. It’s up to me to deal with that, and I will.

I see you people, and know you are part of the problem.

Filthy/Gorgeous

Not nearly as angry today as I expected to be, but for large portions of the working portion of business it did feel as if I was being followed around by Tim Curry as IT with a rubber hammer, with which he would hit me on the head every ten minutes or so before cackling demonically. I couldn’t breathe properly when weightlifting, nearly fell flat on my face on the run back. Of course, nobody got hurt, and it was all just minor mental inconvenience… but the point remains. some days it’s the stress that divides good work from just work.

For those of you don’t know, I’ve been accepted by the local NHS mental health unit for CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy) as part of a longer journey to uncover what is going on in my head. The wait for this has been three weeks to be initially assessed and a week for the okay, and I’ve probably had four good night’s sleep that entire time. I have, effectively, been running on empty and am only now returning to what could be probably considered as normal. It’s also played havoc with eating habits. I need to fix a lot of stuff.

One of the things I’ve stopped doing is blogging, mostly because once a week I record twenty minutes of video blog for Patreon and, at least over the last few weeks, after that there’s been no extra mental space to accommodate anything else. Last week however I did a Zoom event, a Poetry Book launch and an Open Mic poetry/prose evening. It’s beginning to fit into place. The only problem, such as it is, remains getting other people to appreciate my poetry enough to publish it. However, as we come up on four years of doing this shit, there is undoubted progress. If there wasn’t, I wouldn’t be leaving the old life behind for good.

In a certain light, things appear to be going very well indeed.

Therefore, having tried to do a Newsletter and having had nobody really that encouraged to keep reading, I’m going back to what I know best. It helps that there is now a regular stream of actual life to report on too, that I’m pushing myself into things properly for the first time in probably six months. Let’s be honest, a lot of the time when there’s been no desire to share has coincided in when my mental health was sub-optimal. With a haircut (finally) and some genuine encouragement on my work, it is all just better.

Yes, I KNOW my own validation is all that matters, but sometimes it really helps when someone else turns up and reinforces that.

Unfinished Sympathy

This was written today, because if it were tomorrow, I would have not yet moved on, and that’s what needs to happen. That’s the problem with the World now: all these time zones, so much difference between what’s not for me and then for others. I could have scheduled for Monday but, by then, this is history. It’s taken a year, give or take, to decouple myself from an online persona that effectively saved my life. Some might want to use that as fuel going forward, but after I watched a grown woman on Friday night tell me how she stopped herself from taking her own life, something fundamental altered inside.

Knowing you are not alone is great: believing it is a different concept entirely.

When all is said and done, I have always thrived when nurtured. The problem in this Existence of Noise, which it undoubtedly has become right now, remains filtering out the stuff that is harmful. An awful lot of it isn’t, far more than you might think. So many good ideas come from Social media, staggering depth and breadth of beauty, and if you’re not smart enough to understand the difference between a need and an ask, it can all get terribly difficult to rationalize. It’s why it took so long to sort the transition out properly.

I remember someone long gone from what is now my personal feed, someone I’d loved as a mutual and wished for as a friend, staging the most impressive exit from the platform. I should have gone when he did, on reflection. That moment has been thought on for the longest time, that he did it right, and I’ve spent years hanging on hoping certain people might stop thinking this was what my life was, when it became just a place I lived in and stayed part of for so long out of an obligation to others. Those who interact and give back have kept me sane, and there’s hope that many of those will come and join me on this new journey.

However, many won’t, and now I have to move on.

Undoubtedly the problem before was the thought I couldn’t cope without that presence as support. When it became apparent that it was perfectly possible to cope on my own, the requirement was redundant.

If you’re reading this from the pinned tweet on my personal account: yes, I’m still there, but its no longer where I work.

I have finally accepted that, and moved on.

Russian Roulette

It’s been a Week when blogging got sidelined for poetry performance and mental health. Both are important, but it needs to be said that I enjoy this, that the blog must never be ignored in my spaces of personal significance. Without these words, there would be no poetry. This was the true sandpit, where the ideas were first played with. Without it, there would be no me. I need to find ways to make this space and others relevant again. We’ll work on it.

I have the beginnings of a Set List. This is really important, and the two poems are different sides of the mental health coin for me. I tried out a poem last night that I know is really strong, and so it’s going to get entered for a Thing as a result. I doubt it will win, but I’ll never know if I don’t try. All of this is experimentation, after all, but increasingly is the realization people like me, as a person, as well as the work. That’s going to take some time to get used to.

One day.

Urg!

Should have been here yesterday, apologies for absence, there’s a lot on. Therefore, this is going to PRETEND it happened yesterday, and most people won’t even realize the difference.

Existing work is being repurposed for new gains. I am slowly pulling myself back to full capability. I have some backlog to deal with but nothing that can’t be sensibly rationalized. Really that’s what I should be doing right now and not posting here.

Also, this poetry is VERY good :D