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2 Jan 2012

Post 323: Some thanks be to everyones favourite time of year

Firstly, sorry it's been so long. I'm sure it's actually been pleasant not having any of my guff to harness your grey matter on. This post has been difficult to put together for a variety of reasons but I'll refrain from my usual whinge (about most of the reasons)but the most apparent is I made the schoolboy error of relying on others (who weren't professionals) to send me pictures around which I intended to weave a Christmas post. It's now new year and I am still sans photographic evidence of Christmas. I have to be a little careful with what I say about Christmas at home. Being tactless is one thing and truth be told a bit of a gift, but being a sociopath and hurting peoples feelings is another. Now, I've made no secret of my dislike for his time of year but there are some good things. I have long said that to be 'happy' humans need to be around other humans. To be truly happy you also have to feel safe and when you are surrounded by your family you do feel safe.My state is why I struggle so much with being happy, because I never feel safe. I never feel I can rely on my body to get me out of things, be they a fall on the floor, a tricky conversation/argument you just want to get away from, feeling exhausted but not being able to dig deep, getting a jumper on because it's cold, not being able to do these things at all or for myself stops me being happy and it's pretty obvious there's no point investing the energy ever trying to be able to do these things again because: 1.I don't have the energy 2.The bits of the brain needed to make these things work and for me to feel normal again have been destroyed. All this talk of 'neuroplasticity' and talk about how 'unused parts of the brain re-organize themselves and take over for your lost function' is all vague hypothetical horsesh*t – I'm sorry brainscientists, you know nothing – the brain is too complicated an organ, it is acknowledged to be the most complicated (and valuable) object in the universe (even the cybermen
know that) and mine is beyond repair. Everything I now do is to try and make my current situation as bearable as possible for my friends, carers, family and myself (in that order). I am 100% convinced that most people in my situation wouldn't have bothered to do anything like what I have done if they'd had a stroke like mine so my mum (or someone) reading an article in the 'Daily Mail' about some lady who recovered is NOT the norm, it is wonderful copy but that's it. People who have recovered have won the lottery.
People telling me to behave like these people is like saying 'put every pound you make into buying lottery tickets, that's sound financial planning. THAT WOULD BE INSANITY. Instead, I try and make as much as I can out of the small mercies I have left: My remaining dignity and my wish to have a normal life;My friends; my family; my carers; my remaining intelligence and sense of humour; my integrity and morals; my material things, etc, etc Christmas for me, is about getting as far away from Material things as possible, even if it is a religio-retail festival -present giving in our family is a rather sweet formality of the proceedings, there are zero expectations unlike when I was an awful indulged child and I would hope for ridiculous things.
The thing that pisses me off about the outlandish expectations of spoilt b*stards and b*stardesses at Christmas is it's always about want rather than need, and the only thing I need is something money can't buy, that is my health and my old life. Since these aren't available at any price and no 'expert' can conclusively tell me what is the right thing to do I seem to be asking an impossible question which I think is [How best do I apply my limited material resources in using my sh*tilly fragile physical and pathetically shaky emotional attributes to recover from what seems to be an irrecoverable injury?]. So that says to me that I'm never going to get what I really need so Christmas is purely about the unmaterial things -namely, the company. Now, as much as I love my family and love seeing them, it is still an endurance event. Most things are these days. Christmas at my 'rentals is all about small talk and 'nailing the clichés' that I associate with a middle-class Christmas that fails to see a shred of irony in anything about it. Everything seems to be taken far too seriously. I.e The turkey barely fitting in the oven causes a row, rather than it being a ridiculous cliché we should chuckle about. Cliché and irony are hand in hand at this thing, it is immense. I can imagine less planning went into the invasion of Iraq! When I had the inspiration for this I thought about calling it 'The twelve Clichés of Christmas' but I'm not clever enough to be able to put that together as strewn as Christmas is with predictable nonsense. But for example, the one that really got me going was lighting the Christmas pudding, walking it around the dinner table,
taking pictures of it while everyone sang 'we wish you a merry christmas' OH MY GOD! What? Why? The food is to be commended of course, mum has this down to a fine art – it is a masterpiece of planning, timing and skill and of course Delia ahem f*cking Smith. I reckon if there was a league table of middle-aged ladies who do this she'd be top 5 in the world and top 3 in Britain. It is amazing. Other Christmas clichés inspired mixed emotions which I'm sure you can infer: Not being able to use the main room before people arrived on Christmas day because it was being used for other things (to play annoying computer games in this instance) – ffs, my sisters kids weren't even here this year
; Everyone being forced to watch the Queen's Speech
despite it not being interesting or relevant It being pointed out in the Queens speech 'doesn't she look good' anyone at that age would look good if they'd led such a ridiculously pampered lifestyle – I'd be surprised if she even wipes her own arse; Being told to shush when taking the piss out of the way the queen says 'often' 'orrfen'. I may be a bit posh but that is absurd. Anyway that is all I will say about Christmas, although I am upset at the allegation that 'at times you appear to be ungrateful' which was levelled at me by my parents, and the reason they said this was 'at times you appear to be in a bad mood' – I wonder why that is? My Dad also told me to change the way I use my chair, ie to stop using it's most useful feature as it might damage the chair and you can't afford the repairs, anyway, despite these being the two most insensitive things they could have said, I'll try and remember this Christmas for how adorable my cousin Julie's one year old son Barney was.
He stayed awake and didn't cry for the whole of Christmas day. He makes me want one of my own. Seeing as I predicate my life on being insanely grateful to anyone who is kind to me but also tell people who aren't to 'sling their hook' I feel insanely grateful to some close friends of mine for inviting Mel
and I around to lunch on new years eve. Now, I have been round to Nick and Sal's before but in order to get in through the front door I have to leave my chair, with the help of Nick and Kocen
(here with his lovely girlfriend Freya)for support I walked through their front door, and was sat in a normal chair. The Icely's (Alice, several month old Arden,
her husband Dom and 2 year old Freddie) It's Nic and his 4 year old Oscar in this photo, as always I failed to get decent photos because my camera is kept in my f*cking wheelchair although I did manage a lens smashing cheesy grin with with the hostess,
anyway it was so good to be invited and to see my favourite ladies,aren't they wonderful,
still as gorgeous as when they were at college back in the 90s
and the happy gathering was completed by Gluckers,
a man who now has his own architecture firm,
oh how time has marched on. I'm glad that Mel seems to like everybody (obviously the praise for her is deafening, as it should be) even if she has been rushed headlong into an onslaught of posh people. My only disappointment was that I wasn't in any fit state to accept my friend Isabel's
kind invite to see in the New Year with her and her friends. I would have been lousy company. The best I managed was watching the London fireworks
in bed (alone). They were so good I was prompted (slightly cynically) to post this on facebook the next day I saw the Westminster fireworks on the Telly and thought they were incredible -immediately followed by the thought 'economic crisis - what economic crisis?' Despite the somewhat serious nature of all of this I had my attention drawn to an internet clip that I dare you not to find funny I think we can all laugh at that sort of misfortune, especially if it happens to posh people. And finally another Stroke Surviving Blogger who I'm in touch with through the magic of facebook appears to have written a book – Halfway gone by Matt Padmore,
available on Amazon.

1 comment:

nurul iman said...

Thank you very Steady info ... hopefully more successful.
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