Crossroads - Another Day In Time.

  Another day in time. So, here I am again, it would seem at a crossroads in my life. To some, however, whose lives are consumed by the harsh reality of conflict, whether that be because they reside in a war zone, or because they have a very real battle within themselves, my struggle to them may seem miniscule. In fact I would have no argument with them. What I would say though, is that a struggle is a struggle to whoever is experiencing it. Indeed, it is as real as the words you see in front of you now. This I believe is why the world and each experience we go through in it is so unique and complex. No two people are the same. Even if I were to witness the same sequence of events as you, I would say that our own experience of the event would be very different. We are as unique as a diamond. We are Gods jewels and I believe he truly delights in each and every one of us. Despite our own failings and self-doubt. I am speaking more about my own lack of self-belief and failings here. Altho

Inevitable destination

Life is a journey they say. A journey with an inevitable destination. The ultimate check out, where the lights get switched off for good...they say.  Who are "they" I wonder? Are they a group of wise people haggard by time. And due to the effects of time, have creased wrinkled faces? These creases and wrinkles shooting off in varying directions similar to a map of capillaries, arteries and veins.  The more observant of you may have noted, I use the term "Wise people" as opposed to "Wise men" These politically correct times in which we live, I thought it best.  Although I assume the majority of the world's population agree with me on the final inevitable outcome of life's journey. T he final destination however, I imagine is one of conjecture. Many religions have varying ideas and beliefs on what happens when you reach life's final stop. Then to alight onto a newly trod platform. The below link is wiki's take on it. https://en.m.wikipedia.or

Faith, it's just like WI-FI!

What!? What on earth is he going on about now!? You may be asking. Faith is like wifi? Let me explain. Today is Friday 5th June 2020, or June 5th 2020 for my American readers and friends!  Nothing spectacular in it being a Friday I grant you. Fridays are often thought of as a fun day, the anticipation of the weekend ahead. Plans being made possibly for the evening to come, plans for those two days where the majority of us get to relax and wind down. Of course not everyone gets the weekend off. Police officers and support staff. NHS staff, care workers, factory workers...the list is endless. And God! There are workers who do 12 hour day and night shifts. That is a long time to be on shift or on duty.  I know this as in my early 20's I worked these hours. To be honest I really enjoyed it. Especially the night shifts. On my breaks I would go outside and listen to the silence of the night. Take in the smell of the night air. Enjoy the gentle evening breeze. I was fortunate enough to be

The reality of the darkness for me.

So, here I am. Not knowing if I should share on this platform.  I want not sympathy, just a little understanding. This is so deeply personal. For those who know me well will understand that dark times and depression have been an unwanted companion of mine for many years. Some years and times better than others. For someone who could talk the humps off a camel, I find this incredibly difficult to talk about. Which is maybe why I am writing it instead. It feels less daunting I think. To write instead of say.  When you write something, you feel less vulnerable. I don't get to see the glaze over of the eyes, or awkward looks, change in conversation when the subject of mental health is broached. I have been fighting this for so long, I'm not sure I have any fight left. I'm exhausted. My mind it feels, at least for me, has been raging at some inexplicable speed for most of my life. My brain is beyond the back up generator.  On Sunday 8th December 2019 I hit a wall mentally. I am

The rolling mist

Depression, unfathomable. Descends from the mysterious plains of my mind. There is no apparent reason for it, not today at least. Numbness, ability to apply logic escapes me. I cannot see beyond my closest horizon, the ends of my fingers. Beyond these, it seems lost and desolate. The utter despair envelopes me like the rolling mist on an eery dark lake.  I cannot face even to tidy away mess in the house. Which is odd, as looking at the mess that surrounds me, does nothing to ease my darkness. I just want to weep, but am so numb, I cannot even manage to do this. I'm tired, so very tired, of trying to fight this. The depression and hopelessness is like a taunting bully, hiding in the shadows, prodding and poking when it senses a morsel of normality being felt. Never happy to let me be. I don't want to face the world, I don't want to face people. I want to be alone but don't want to be on my own. The thought of trying to be what people expect me to be petrifies me t

And on as a father I wander

Well, here I am again, wandering on as a father. It's been a while dear reader, I know. Time passes so quickly, and if I am completely honest, I think I have felt little inspiration to put digit to keypad. Since our last meeting, various events have taken place. As aforementioned, in my last entry, my eldest child, is well into his secondary school journey. He is undoubtedly growing, not only in a physical sense, and, it seems, he has attained a little more height every night during his slumber, crawling from within his pit, a little more vertically imposing on the world, but also, grown in maturity, and swagger! The history behind my first born entrance to day one of his life, was by far an incredibly difficult start. However, with knowledge attained by watching him grow from babe, to an almost 12 year old, the difficult start makes complete sense. That light bulb Eureka moment. He was very poorly when born, despite weighing what seemed at the time, a very healthy 10lbs 12.5oz. It

Another attempt

 Here I am again, another attempt at making sense of it all. Wondering what it's all about.  I have to be the man of the house. I have to be the strong one. At least in the eyes of my children. My son, who has recently started secondary school, looks up to me. I am constantly at war with myself in an attempt to meet the expectations he has of me as his father. The same has to be said about being the father my daughter needs me to be. Through her five year old eyes, and in her five year old mind, I can do anything. I can fix anything, make things right in this scary sphere we call life. It's at times like that, when she looks up at me with her beautiful big eyes, and skin, silky smooth, unblemished by the ravages of existence, that I wish I had a disclaimer, ready to hand. Something tangible I could give her, to let her know, I don't know it all, I can't fix everything, or always make things right. This, however, I suggest, to me at least, would be the cowards way out. A