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8 May 2010

Post 205: Is this too much?

A week where I am a bit light on inspiration because when you do sod all, there seems to be sod all to write about. This is one of the many annoyances of post-stroke life. The thinking part of my brain seems to be ok, everything else is f*cked. The bit that controls your body, f*cked, the bit that controls how you feel, f*cked. It all adds up to guess what?Feeling f*cked[and not in a good way], but also feeling useless – this is a potent combination that leads you to nihilism; an inability to see the good in anything, ok, given, my sense of humour has always been on the nihilistic side (ie everything's a bit crap isn't it?) I think my stroke has somewhat magnified the problem. The election result (it's Friday morning) is a case in point, I should have something to say about it because after all, I did do a politics degree including one paper on British Politics and government in the 20th century but like David Dimbleby and a troupe of academic experts, some of whose books used to be on my reading lists or even lecturers of lectures I should have gone to, I find myself miming the same chin scratch and joining the deafening chorus of 'iiiiintresting iiiiiiintriguing', code of course for 'we don't have a clue'. Only in a country that invented cricket could we have an election where at the 11th hour we still can't tell who's won, and the best we can do is cite something that happened in the 70s or even the 20s or that the only way to get the British Political system to work is to promise millions of pounds to Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland all of whom would be more than happy to secede from the UK if they could!
It's bonkers and I don't have the answer. I found myself with my head in my hand in front of the TV this morning feeling embarrassed to be British because we haven't got a clue! The French must be laughing their asses off! 'Haw-He-Haw-He-Haw! Inglish pigdogs' etc etc.
Enough, one thing at a time, back to my problems, I desperately want to do something around people, but I don't have the energy or self confidence anymore. Take flirting as an example.
I probably used to flirt a bit too much. Metaphorically, I now 'flirt best, in text form, from behind a hedge' [a line borrowed from comic genius Daniel Kitson aka 'the Kitgenius']. The reason I've brought up flirting is because like my exhausting walking practice I've had enough of it. Some girls that I have contacted have written me nice supportive messages and we've chatted a bit through the safety of the internet and a few have even taken the brave step of coming and meeting me for a cup of tea and a chat, almost all go on to be friends and that's it. That seems to be the way the cookie crumbles these days. I haven't got a clue what to do from there. It sends me a fairly clear signal that the post stroke me is unfanciable. This is another part of my nihilism. I can't seem to accept that my physical manifestation is anything other than an object of pity perhaps to say hello to, possibly talk to for a bit, maybe meet, but that's your lot. I feel like the music's stopped and I'm the only person in my entire peer group who's been left without a chair[oh the irony], and even though I sound depressed I manage to beat at least some of it by getting out of bed in the mornings, I still manage some physical therapy, I think on a simple cost/benefit analysis of internet dating, I think I'm going to give it up except in very special and isolated cases because after two years I haven't got enough out of all the effort I've put in to it. I have met a couple of people who will be great friends but I'm looking for more. For love, affection and care, I expect to be an object of pity when I first meet someone but I hope to get past that pretty quickly to the type of guy I really am, the guy in the touching Zoosk testimonials that people have written about me. It has turned out to be a most uplifting accident! I have been humbled by some of the things people have said. In terms of my goals, Love can obviously come from friendship but if you want more, you just end up frustrated and so very tired. I can no longer live the Dream even though I've always had a fairly uncomplicated one, which was basically to live life comfortably and easily and both of those are no longer within my reach, getting back to living life normally isn't ever going to be a possibility but I can still dream about being able to share my new life and my home. This is now my dream. I may get a bit sh*tty and stroppy but don't we all, and almost all of my negative thoughts focus on how I physically feel and I'm pretty confident I'm doing the right things to try and fight that. I'm convinced that finding someone brave enough to share their life with me will really sort me out, despite being lightly mocked by a very smart friend of mine that 'living the dream' was an artificial construct invented by Disney to sell Toys it was gratifying to hear comedian John Bishop
(whose Hammersmith Apollo show I went to on Wednesday, thanks to Jose again for taking me and enjoying it so much) He based the entire 2nd half of his show on how 'living the dream' is the way to live life and how he had achieved his dream by playing in a charity football match at Anfield in front of 30,000 people. Despite it being about football, it was heartwarming and funny and totally consistent with what I thought despite the fact I have an irrational dislike of scousers since one threatened to stab me at Homelands ten years ago. Scally bastads!
I can't help feeling a sense of inevitability here, like every online argument tends to Godwins law, every blog like this is a cry for help, I'm sure there will be people thinking 'Get a grip Dom', not that easy when you've got so much you feel you have to say.

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