I sincerely dislike how fights affect me, how they make me feel, how they ruin my day, give me the shakes, fill me with fear for my life and my body. Today, at work, an altercation broke out between four people - two at the top of the company, one ex-employee and his employee brother. Pushing, shoving, shouting, death threats, slagging-off of wives, me on the phone to 999 while all this is going on around me and the boss's son, a young boy of 7 or 8 seemingly oblivious to all the aggression going on around him.
I'm writing because I'm interested in how this confrontation severely affected my mood. I felt variously like crying, running away, hiding, fighting, exploding and taking the whole area down with me. It's the fear and escape I'm interested in, simply because they definitely feel like they hark back to when my ex and I argued.
I often tried to get away when we fought. I'd try to leave, to give us both a chance to calm down, to escape the nightmare and get away from all this unneeded aggression. I often wondered why the hell we were fighting; did I do something wrong, some unknown provocation that caused her to flare up? Two times, when I tried to leave, she stopped me. The situations got out of hand and ended up getting physical as described a few paragraphs down here. I think part of my reaction to modern aggression is tied to these two events, to my desire to run away. Even deeper, I think it's tied to growing up seeing my dad often very angry, angry enough to shout, to make my mum cringe and cry, to cause tension and...
God. I can feel it now, that tension, adrenaline on the cusp of release, the flight instinct a hair-trigger away. I can put myself back in that place; young, maybe five or six, hearing my dad shouting and screaming at my mum, feeling the fear that maybe I'd be struck, maybe the family would break apart again, a lot of uncertainty...
Oooh, uncertainty. That sounds strikingly familiar. I haven't got time to explore this now, but that link is important, certainly a discovery that links to many other things and worth looking into in depth soon.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
I asked for further questions
from my friend to help me explore these issues around uncertainty and lack of control, and she was wonderfully forthcoming, with some proper counselling-style questions to help me focus.
In recent posts I described physical symptoms associated with strong emotions. Can I isolate a single emotion or is it a combination?
A quick-fire list: fear disappointment rejection uncertainty anger. The uncertainty makes me angry and scared, disappointment's definitely there, and I feel rejected by the person or event/universe that drops the changes on me.
Rejection stands out from that list as being somewhat out of place. I kind of understand where the other emotions are generated - I'd like to explore them in more detail - but rejection doesn't seem to fit with the rest of them and I'm wondering where that comes from.
Rejection
See Also: ABANDONMENT
Cast away [anger] like spoiled milk —Marge Piercy
Discarded like outmoded customs —Elyse Sommer
Discarded (me) like yesterday's underpants —Sue Grafton
Dropped … like a dead fish —T. Glen Coughlin
Dropped [from a list] … like a hot rivet —Loren D. Estleman
He shook them [young women] off his back like a young stallion shaking off an unskilled rider —Russell Banks
Keep at a distance, like someone with an infectious disease —Anon
Discarded, dropped, cast away, abandoned... For some reason these all sound like they don't belong in this post but they all feel right. I just can't see the link between uncertainty and feeling rejected.
Is it about consideration? You're keeping me hanging, making me uneasy, changing plans on me because you don't care how it effects me. You haven't considered how it'll impact me. I think the point here is that it shouldn't effect me, there should be no impact. I'm an adaptable guy and I should be able to react to uncertainty without resorting to confusing emotions such as these.
I'm confused and quite possibly too tired to give this my full attention, so I'll have to try again another day. But try again I will, as I'm intrigued about the root of all this.
In recent posts I described physical symptoms associated with strong emotions. Can I isolate a single emotion or is it a combination?
A quick-fire list: fear disappointment rejection uncertainty anger. The uncertainty makes me angry and scared, disappointment's definitely there, and I feel rejected by the person or event/universe that drops the changes on me.
Rejection stands out from that list as being somewhat out of place. I kind of understand where the other emotions are generated - I'd like to explore them in more detail - but rejection doesn't seem to fit with the rest of them and I'm wondering where that comes from.
Rejection
See Also: ABANDONMENT
Cast away [anger] like spoiled milk —Marge Piercy
Discarded like outmoded customs —Elyse Sommer
Discarded (me) like yesterday's underpants —Sue Grafton
Dropped … like a dead fish —T. Glen Coughlin
Dropped [from a list] … like a hot rivet —Loren D. Estleman
He shook them [young women] off his back like a young stallion shaking off an unskilled rider —Russell Banks
Keep at a distance, like someone with an infectious disease —Anon
Discarded, dropped, cast away, abandoned... For some reason these all sound like they don't belong in this post but they all feel right. I just can't see the link between uncertainty and feeling rejected.
Is it about consideration? You're keeping me hanging, making me uneasy, changing plans on me because you don't care how it effects me. You haven't considered how it'll impact me. I think the point here is that it shouldn't effect me, there should be no impact. I'm an adaptable guy and I should be able to react to uncertainty without resorting to confusing emotions such as these.
I'm confused and quite possibly too tired to give this my full attention, so I'll have to try again another day. But try again I will, as I'm intrigued about the root of all this.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Ups and downs
recently, mostly peaks but a couple of heavy troughs. I honestly thought I'd breeze through this house move; my confidence in my mental strength was mostly justified, but eventually I found myself right at the bottom of my comfort zone after getting a stupidly-inflated quote for putting carpet down.
At this point we'd moved most of our stuff between houses but still had a final spick-and-span and key handover to do at the old place that evening. I was pushing someone to quote me a price for carpeting the flat and trying to pin someone else down for collection of a fridge. Neither person understood how stressful it was not knowing when these two important factors of the move were happening, and they don't know about my issues with uncertainty, so they weren't to know. But the fact that I didn't know what was happening with these two essential tasks was sincerely bugging me and I found it difficult to think about anything else.
It came to a head when I contacted both parties and pushed them for a response. Eventually I got a price back for the carpetting - £1,700! I cried. I sat at my desk and I felt like the world was crashing down around me. There was simply no way I could afford that, not even if I put everything else on hold in the meantime. It was more than double what I'd anticipated and it felt like a punch in the stomach when it came through.
I got a stroke of luck when a colleague saw how down I was - he suggested I talk to my boss, whose brother-in-law fits carpet, and get his to quote the job. He gave me a straight-up no-nonsense quote of £575 all-in and I almost ripped his arm off with my enthusiasm. Moments later, I got confirmation from the other person I was chasing and once everything had slotted into place I felt much better.
I've just realised how this is less about how the move has stressed me out, and more an example of how uncertainty makes me feel uneasy. A useful anecdote because it just reinforces the view that when things don't go to plan I revert to old, out-of-date behaviour.
At this point we'd moved most of our stuff between houses but still had a final spick-and-span and key handover to do at the old place that evening. I was pushing someone to quote me a price for carpeting the flat and trying to pin someone else down for collection of a fridge. Neither person understood how stressful it was not knowing when these two important factors of the move were happening, and they don't know about my issues with uncertainty, so they weren't to know. But the fact that I didn't know what was happening with these two essential tasks was sincerely bugging me and I found it difficult to think about anything else.
It came to a head when I contacted both parties and pushed them for a response. Eventually I got a price back for the carpetting - £1,700! I cried. I sat at my desk and I felt like the world was crashing down around me. There was simply no way I could afford that, not even if I put everything else on hold in the meantime. It was more than double what I'd anticipated and it felt like a punch in the stomach when it came through.
I got a stroke of luck when a colleague saw how down I was - he suggested I talk to my boss, whose brother-in-law fits carpet, and get his to quote the job. He gave me a straight-up no-nonsense quote of £575 all-in and I almost ripped his arm off with my enthusiasm. Moments later, I got confirmation from the other person I was chasing and once everything had slotted into place I felt much better.
I've just realised how this is less about how the move has stressed me out, and more an example of how uncertainty makes me feel uneasy. A useful anecdote because it just reinforces the view that when things don't go to plan I revert to old, out-of-date behaviour.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
A micro-breakdown led to some useful insight
from someone who read my last post, and I'd like to explore the issue here. Their suggestion that my need for control and order may stem from my ex's manipulation rang true in my mind and made me feel quite emotional when I first read it. Here's a paraphrase:
"It's perfectly natural and understandable, your ex's actions and behaviour manipulated you so totally that you had zero control of the situation, it's become almost an intrinsic part of your nature to compensate for that now. Could it also be a security/safety thing? In order to feel safe inside yourself, you need things to go to an organised plan... when that doesn't pan out, it freaks you more than it should? Takes you back to how you felt 12 years ago?"
Yes! Very helpful insights here, making me think how it does feel to have plans changed. I get tetchy, a bit shitty, distracted and generally somewhat all over the place until plans are fixed and I know what's going to happen. In fact, I often say to daughter "you know I like to know what's happening", a phrase which raises a wry smile right now.
So I like things planned out and when plans are disrupted I feel incredibly uncomfortable and sometimes act that out in irritability or general malaise. If I focus on the feelings now it's like a drop in my stomach, a lowering of the head and gentle anger or emotion bubbling up in my throat; all very physical sensations which not only indicate the strength of the feelings involved but that I may be suppressing some emotion too.
Someone recently asked me what the trigger for my depression was, and I told them the story of when my ex told me she was pregnant with our daughter. That was the day it all changed from relative normality to relative chaos, the day I knew she was completely mental but stuck by her because she was carrying our child. The reason I mention this is that when I thought of plans going awry, the image of that moment when she said 'I've lost the twins, but don't worry, I'm pregnant again" flashed through my mind. One moment I'm the proud (if somewhat confused and suspicious) father-to-be of twins, the next I'm told of a miscarriage and new pregnancy and I'm reeling.
Jesus. Writing that out now, it's a wonder I ever got better. I can't believe the strength of that moment, the power she had to take my feelings and emotions, my love and my DNA, and twist and turn them to meet her needs without considering mine. It really makes me bite, I can feel the anger behind it bubbling like a cauldren at the top of my neck.
Ever since, she had control. During the relationship she controlled me on a daily basis with anger and sex, even using our daughter as a tool in her games. After the relationship, our daughter became her only bargaining chip and she used it to full effect, regularly threatening to withhold access and contact if I didn't bow to her whim. Looking back, I'm not surprised I turned to weed and alcohol to escape this; in my mind it sounds like a living nightmare.
So my fixation with plans not being disrupted, and being very uneasy if they are, could stem from the above. That very moment, where plans were in place and suddenly changed, confused and dismayed me, taking my planned future away, replacing it with someone else's. It definitely feels right that modern disruption causes me to revert to that mode.
Another image just flashed through my mind, one I'm sure I've blogged about but can't find right now - the image of my mother in tears, taking me and my brother away because she was leaving our father, for good this time of course, comforting us that everything will be ok now. This happened a few times and I can see how this would shape an attitude to change for the future. Going from a stable and relatively secure home to being displaced half-way across the country with all the uncertainty that involves must've been terrifying. Will I ever see my home again? What'll happen to my dad? I've left all my toys at this house. Why is this happening again? Will it end like it always does, or will we be gone for good?
There it is: it's the uncertainty, the unanswered questions, the inability to shape the present to follow a coherent direction for the foreseeable future. These disruptive trips, and subsequent manipulation by my ex, have shaped a modern man who turns into a frightened boy whenever plans are disrupted.
I want to examine this further but I'm finding it quite heavy going. I'm tired and although work is quiet I'm struggling to find the space to explore the feelings involved in all this, so I'll try again later. For now, it's comforting to have discovered some of the underlying reasons behind something that's been on my mind for a while.
"It's perfectly natural and understandable, your ex's actions and behaviour manipulated you so totally that you had zero control of the situation, it's become almost an intrinsic part of your nature to compensate for that now. Could it also be a security/safety thing? In order to feel safe inside yourself, you need things to go to an organised plan... when that doesn't pan out, it freaks you more than it should? Takes you back to how you felt 12 years ago?"
Yes! Very helpful insights here, making me think how it does feel to have plans changed. I get tetchy, a bit shitty, distracted and generally somewhat all over the place until plans are fixed and I know what's going to happen. In fact, I often say to daughter "you know I like to know what's happening", a phrase which raises a wry smile right now.
So I like things planned out and when plans are disrupted I feel incredibly uncomfortable and sometimes act that out in irritability or general malaise. If I focus on the feelings now it's like a drop in my stomach, a lowering of the head and gentle anger or emotion bubbling up in my throat; all very physical sensations which not only indicate the strength of the feelings involved but that I may be suppressing some emotion too.
Someone recently asked me what the trigger for my depression was, and I told them the story of when my ex told me she was pregnant with our daughter. That was the day it all changed from relative normality to relative chaos, the day I knew she was completely mental but stuck by her because she was carrying our child. The reason I mention this is that when I thought of plans going awry, the image of that moment when she said 'I've lost the twins, but don't worry, I'm pregnant again" flashed through my mind. One moment I'm the proud (if somewhat confused and suspicious) father-to-be of twins, the next I'm told of a miscarriage and new pregnancy and I'm reeling.
Jesus. Writing that out now, it's a wonder I ever got better. I can't believe the strength of that moment, the power she had to take my feelings and emotions, my love and my DNA, and twist and turn them to meet her needs without considering mine. It really makes me bite, I can feel the anger behind it bubbling like a cauldren at the top of my neck.
Ever since, she had control. During the relationship she controlled me on a daily basis with anger and sex, even using our daughter as a tool in her games. After the relationship, our daughter became her only bargaining chip and she used it to full effect, regularly threatening to withhold access and contact if I didn't bow to her whim. Looking back, I'm not surprised I turned to weed and alcohol to escape this; in my mind it sounds like a living nightmare.
So my fixation with plans not being disrupted, and being very uneasy if they are, could stem from the above. That very moment, where plans were in place and suddenly changed, confused and dismayed me, taking my planned future away, replacing it with someone else's. It definitely feels right that modern disruption causes me to revert to that mode.
Another image just flashed through my mind, one I'm sure I've blogged about but can't find right now - the image of my mother in tears, taking me and my brother away because she was leaving our father, for good this time of course, comforting us that everything will be ok now. This happened a few times and I can see how this would shape an attitude to change for the future. Going from a stable and relatively secure home to being displaced half-way across the country with all the uncertainty that involves must've been terrifying. Will I ever see my home again? What'll happen to my dad? I've left all my toys at this house. Why is this happening again? Will it end like it always does, or will we be gone for good?
There it is: it's the uncertainty, the unanswered questions, the inability to shape the present to follow a coherent direction for the foreseeable future. These disruptive trips, and subsequent manipulation by my ex, have shaped a modern man who turns into a frightened boy whenever plans are disrupted.
I want to examine this further but I'm finding it quite heavy going. I'm tired and although work is quiet I'm struggling to find the space to explore the feelings involved in all this, so I'll try again later. For now, it's comforting to have discovered some of the underlying reasons behind something that's been on my mind for a while.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
I've been waiting for the excitement to kick in
but it seems so far off at the moment.
To tell the truth I'm starting to struggle a bit with things not being in order, having a bedroom full of boxes of STUFF, and other people's very relaxed attitudes to communication and timekeeping. Do people not realise they're causing me stress when they don't call me back, or do things when they said they would? Grrrr. I'm trying to get carpet fitted as we currently have just dusty, cold concrete floor and until the carpet goes down I don't want to put everything in its place, set my pc up, desk, bed, cabinets, go out and buy wardrobes and storage because it'll all just have to be moved, dismantled and distrupted when it comes to lay the carpet.
Ack, I guess people just don't realise I like to know exactly what's going on, and when. Since I severely cut back on weed and alcohol I prefer order and control to chaos and freewheeling. When plans change I adapt quickly and move on, but if there aren't plans in place I find it very hard to settle. I am aware this is an issue and I'd like to work through it at some point because I remember using the word 'control' a lot during my therapy and noticing it's not always constructive to need control over the details.
I just had a price back for the carpetting. OMFG. I think I'm starting to struggle a bit now, maybe it's time to call for help.
To tell the truth I'm starting to struggle a bit with things not being in order, having a bedroom full of boxes of STUFF, and other people's very relaxed attitudes to communication and timekeeping. Do people not realise they're causing me stress when they don't call me back, or do things when they said they would? Grrrr. I'm trying to get carpet fitted as we currently have just dusty, cold concrete floor and until the carpet goes down I don't want to put everything in its place, set my pc up, desk, bed, cabinets, go out and buy wardrobes and storage because it'll all just have to be moved, dismantled and distrupted when it comes to lay the carpet.
Ack, I guess people just don't realise I like to know exactly what's going on, and when. Since I severely cut back on weed and alcohol I prefer order and control to chaos and freewheeling. When plans change I adapt quickly and move on, but if there aren't plans in place I find it very hard to settle. I am aware this is an issue and I'd like to work through it at some point because I remember using the word 'control' a lot during my therapy and noticing it's not always constructive to need control over the details.
I just had a price back for the carpetting. OMFG. I think I'm starting to struggle a bit now, maybe it's time to call for help.
Monday, November 8, 2010
I still haven't found my release
and the emotion behind it is building day by day, but in a really positive way.
Good news everyone! Sophie and I have got a new two-bedroom flat. We're housing-trust tenants on the top floor of a small block of beautiful new-build flats. It's all happened so stunningly quickly that my feet haven't touched the ground for almost a week.
I got a note through the door saying someone visited to verify our housing application. This was unexpected, although they did try to do it when we were put on the register but we couldn't find a mutually suitable appointment so they didn't get round to it. I called them and we made an appointment; when I asked what it was regarding she was quite coy and uninformative. Curious, I checked the most recent round of applications online and one of the flats I'd flagged had our band, our application date, and 'Offered' next to it. My heart jumped into my throat... Surely not? It can't be! We can't have been offered a flat already, can we?
I tried hard not to get excited because I really had nothing to go on, but I couldn't resist telling Sophie there was a small possibility we'd be offered somewhere. Two days later I got a call from the housing trust saying we'd come up first for a flat, and I felt like crying as I hung up the phone. We had a viewing on Thursday and accepted it on the spot. Friday, I woke up at 5am with my head fizzing, worked a busy shift at work then missed the bus to Aylesbury and ended up catching an expensive cab to sign the lease and pick up the keys. I didn't get back into town until after 7pm - a long day for me - followed by three pints with my good friends who, coincidentally, offered us a bunch of furniture and kitchenware.
On Saturday, I walked seven lovely hilly miles with my parents in the autumnal cloud, with a couple of huge views over Aylesbury Vale and two really challenging hills which had me puffing away. I used the day for some head-space and it really helped me stay sane.
Sunday came and we moved a whole bunch of stuff out of my friend's house and into the flat. We have *takes deep breath* two TVs, two DVD players, a Freeview box, a couple of cabinets, a single bed and mattress, a double bed, double mattress, king-size winter duvet and a bunch of bed linen, towels, a little bookshelf, a table and four chairs, lamp, enough (matching!) cutlery and crockery to feed eight people, mugs, glasses, baking dishes, pans, pasta and rice jars, a small sofa with a sofa-bed to follow, computer desk and chair, a couple of small tables and even some stylish pictures daughter's claimed to hang on her wall. And, most importantly, something I'd tagged-on to the mental list of Very Important Items for the New Flat: salt and pepper grinders.
Bloody hell, that's a lot of stuff to cross off the list. We moved it all into the flat over Sunday lunchtime and I treated the group to a pub lunch before heading home for a couple of hours to drink beer and watch the grand prix. Sunday evening, we went off to Oxford to see a comedian called Andrew Lawrence who was right up my street. Very good! I got home last night around eleven and almost instantly passed out into a solid slumber until my alarm went off this morning. Now I've come to work and despite a couple of mental hours at the start of the day it's now pretty quiet, giving me time for some much-needed reflection on what's happened over the past few days.
I feel rather detached from this whole experience. I feel almost like I've won the lottery and the size of the prize is struggling to settle into my brain. Everyone around us is so excited and pleased for us, and I'm having real trouble letting that happiness and excitement in because I'm stressed.
Why I'm stressed, I'm unsure. It feels a bit forced, to be honest, so maybe I just need to chill the fuck out. I guess I have caused to be stressed, just because on the surface this is all so uncertain and I have increased responsibility in ensuring everything goes smoothly for my daughter. Despite uncertainty in terms of things falling into place, moving our life out of our current place, carpets going down and us finding important things like a cooker, fridge and washing machine, under the surface much of the support is in place for it all to happen. I can borrow the money, we may qualify for a start-up grant, I have someone to supply and fit the carpet if he's not extortionately expensive, and all the other stuff I can find online and in the local papers. My head is certainly fizzing at everything yet to achieve, but I'm doing it, steadily and surely.
I'm just about finding room to start feeling happy.
Good news everyone! Sophie and I have got a new two-bedroom flat. We're housing-trust tenants on the top floor of a small block of beautiful new-build flats. It's all happened so stunningly quickly that my feet haven't touched the ground for almost a week.
I got a note through the door saying someone visited to verify our housing application. This was unexpected, although they did try to do it when we were put on the register but we couldn't find a mutually suitable appointment so they didn't get round to it. I called them and we made an appointment; when I asked what it was regarding she was quite coy and uninformative. Curious, I checked the most recent round of applications online and one of the flats I'd flagged had our band, our application date, and 'Offered' next to it. My heart jumped into my throat... Surely not? It can't be! We can't have been offered a flat already, can we?
I tried hard not to get excited because I really had nothing to go on, but I couldn't resist telling Sophie there was a small possibility we'd be offered somewhere. Two days later I got a call from the housing trust saying we'd come up first for a flat, and I felt like crying as I hung up the phone. We had a viewing on Thursday and accepted it on the spot. Friday, I woke up at 5am with my head fizzing, worked a busy shift at work then missed the bus to Aylesbury and ended up catching an expensive cab to sign the lease and pick up the keys. I didn't get back into town until after 7pm - a long day for me - followed by three pints with my good friends who, coincidentally, offered us a bunch of furniture and kitchenware.
On Saturday, I walked seven lovely hilly miles with my parents in the autumnal cloud, with a couple of huge views over Aylesbury Vale and two really challenging hills which had me puffing away. I used the day for some head-space and it really helped me stay sane.
Sunday came and we moved a whole bunch of stuff out of my friend's house and into the flat. We have *takes deep breath* two TVs, two DVD players, a Freeview box, a couple of cabinets, a single bed and mattress, a double bed, double mattress, king-size winter duvet and a bunch of bed linen, towels, a little bookshelf, a table and four chairs, lamp, enough (matching!) cutlery and crockery to feed eight people, mugs, glasses, baking dishes, pans, pasta and rice jars, a small sofa with a sofa-bed to follow, computer desk and chair, a couple of small tables and even some stylish pictures daughter's claimed to hang on her wall. And, most importantly, something I'd tagged-on to the mental list of Very Important Items for the New Flat: salt and pepper grinders.
Bloody hell, that's a lot of stuff to cross off the list. We moved it all into the flat over Sunday lunchtime and I treated the group to a pub lunch before heading home for a couple of hours to drink beer and watch the grand prix. Sunday evening, we went off to Oxford to see a comedian called Andrew Lawrence who was right up my street. Very good! I got home last night around eleven and almost instantly passed out into a solid slumber until my alarm went off this morning. Now I've come to work and despite a couple of mental hours at the start of the day it's now pretty quiet, giving me time for some much-needed reflection on what's happened over the past few days.
I feel rather detached from this whole experience. I feel almost like I've won the lottery and the size of the prize is struggling to settle into my brain. Everyone around us is so excited and pleased for us, and I'm having real trouble letting that happiness and excitement in because I'm stressed.
Why I'm stressed, I'm unsure. It feels a bit forced, to be honest, so maybe I just need to chill the fuck out. I guess I have caused to be stressed, just because on the surface this is all so uncertain and I have increased responsibility in ensuring everything goes smoothly for my daughter. Despite uncertainty in terms of things falling into place, moving our life out of our current place, carpets going down and us finding important things like a cooker, fridge and washing machine, under the surface much of the support is in place for it all to happen. I can borrow the money, we may qualify for a start-up grant, I have someone to supply and fit the carpet if he's not extortionately expensive, and all the other stuff I can find online and in the local papers. My head is certainly fizzing at everything yet to achieve, but I'm doing it, steadily and surely.
I'm just about finding room to start feeling happy.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Believing the hype
The weekend before last saw me take the afternoon off work and catch a train to London to meet up with some message-board friends. The train journey itself was wonderful and I spotted a few places I've walked with my parents as the train headed south. I'm trying to remember the last time I went on a train and I'm struggling... Oh! I took a short train journey from Hebden Bridge to Todmorden in the summer, and from Amersham to Hammersmith on the underground a few weeks ago, the the latter was dark so doesn't tick my boxes.
I always find the whole act of travelling by train quite exciting. The approach to the station is filled with anticipation. Getting onto the platform and seeing the huge engines fills me with a childish wonder. The electricity lines, the rails, the whole infrastructure really intrigues me. With my earphones in the gentle rocking of the carriage as we swept across the countryside was comforting. I always get a thrill from the graffiti as I approach Euston, the colours and creative forms inspiring me to doodle more often.
Euston Station was heaving with commuters and travellers, not surprising at 5.30pm on a Friday. The walk past St Pancras and King's Cross to my friend's hotel was hectic, with hundreds of people, cars, bikes and buses to avoid. The striking spires and adornments of St Pancras station are etched into my visual memory. The soundtrack to my fifteen-minute walk was Telefon Tel Aviv with some wonderful relaxing glitchy chill which contrasted perfectly with the city life bustling around me.
I found the hotel and dropped my stuff off in the room before we headed back towards Euston to meet up with the gang. The pub was buzzing with the week-end crowd as we entered and met up with some new and some familiar faces. We started in one corner of the building and gradually spread out along it as our numbers increased. At the peak, I think we numbered approaching forty people, probably half of whom I'd met previously. I made a point of wandering around and meeting the people I didn't recognise which made for a really nice evening of smalltalk, laughs and chatter. I got a zillion hugs and a collection of really lovely compliments, including my favourite: "People think you're lovely because you are lovely, and quite hot. You bastard." This from one girl I'm positive wants to get in my underwear. Woo!
So, this leads me to the point of this post. During the evening I garnered a whole bunch of compliments and subsequently on the message board saw many more. Some girls who I respect and are positively gorgeous said I am hot! Wowzers! I was mostly confident during the evening, only stumbling once or twice while talking to a girl who I find strikingly attractive. I came away from the night full of love and appreciation, and had my ego boosted by the subsequent compliments online.
What this boils down to is that I'm starting to believe the hype. I won't allow it to over-inflate my ego or make me arrogant, but if these bright, attractive women say I'm good-looking, who am I to argue? It definitely fills me with confidence that I am attractive to the opposite sex and ties-in quite nicely with my letting go of past demons and getting myself back in the relationship business. Also, I think we're on track for a new two-bedroom flat in town which will make the whole idea of getting to know someone a much easier prospect.
Now I just need to get out there and meet new people, so I'm going to get myself along to all these things I keep wanting to do but put off, like local wildlife projects and social nights out. I need to get myself around and let the women around here notice how beautiful I am :)
I always find the whole act of travelling by train quite exciting. The approach to the station is filled with anticipation. Getting onto the platform and seeing the huge engines fills me with a childish wonder. The electricity lines, the rails, the whole infrastructure really intrigues me. With my earphones in the gentle rocking of the carriage as we swept across the countryside was comforting. I always get a thrill from the graffiti as I approach Euston, the colours and creative forms inspiring me to doodle more often.
Euston Station was heaving with commuters and travellers, not surprising at 5.30pm on a Friday. The walk past St Pancras and King's Cross to my friend's hotel was hectic, with hundreds of people, cars, bikes and buses to avoid. The striking spires and adornments of St Pancras station are etched into my visual memory. The soundtrack to my fifteen-minute walk was Telefon Tel Aviv with some wonderful relaxing glitchy chill which contrasted perfectly with the city life bustling around me.
I found the hotel and dropped my stuff off in the room before we headed back towards Euston to meet up with the gang. The pub was buzzing with the week-end crowd as we entered and met up with some new and some familiar faces. We started in one corner of the building and gradually spread out along it as our numbers increased. At the peak, I think we numbered approaching forty people, probably half of whom I'd met previously. I made a point of wandering around and meeting the people I didn't recognise which made for a really nice evening of smalltalk, laughs and chatter. I got a zillion hugs and a collection of really lovely compliments, including my favourite: "People think you're lovely because you are lovely, and quite hot. You bastard." This from one girl I'm positive wants to get in my underwear. Woo!
So, this leads me to the point of this post. During the evening I garnered a whole bunch of compliments and subsequently on the message board saw many more. Some girls who I respect and are positively gorgeous said I am hot! Wowzers! I was mostly confident during the evening, only stumbling once or twice while talking to a girl who I find strikingly attractive. I came away from the night full of love and appreciation, and had my ego boosted by the subsequent compliments online.
What this boils down to is that I'm starting to believe the hype. I won't allow it to over-inflate my ego or make me arrogant, but if these bright, attractive women say I'm good-looking, who am I to argue? It definitely fills me with confidence that I am attractive to the opposite sex and ties-in quite nicely with my letting go of past demons and getting myself back in the relationship business. Also, I think we're on track for a new two-bedroom flat in town which will make the whole idea of getting to know someone a much easier prospect.
Now I just need to get out there and meet new people, so I'm going to get myself along to all these things I keep wanting to do but put off, like local wildlife projects and social nights out. I need to get myself around and let the women around here notice how beautiful I am :)
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