Linear Me

It's been my hope that this blog will one day take on an "organic feel".  It sounds ridiculous even as I'm typing but hey ho, there it is.  I'm waiting for assistance for my "wellbeing problem" and perhaps that will include tacking my addiction to quotation marks and parentheses.  Unfortunately when one visits a doctor seeking a referral for one's own mental health it isn't considered "common practise".  Those of us who recognise there is a problem aren't really bad enough to receive help.  Had I been talking to the wallpaper and eating my pets a few weeks ago I'd be well underway toward recovery.

So here I am, stuck in limbo.  The events of the past months have taught me to be far more mindful of my state and to recognise when things will dip which works quite well most of the time.  I've noticed that at times of high emotional excitement that my mood can plummet in under 24 hours.  Success is closely followed by feelings of abject failure.  Such feelings are difficult to rationalise (as feelings are innately irrational) and I am struggling to talk myself out of them.  This weekend I'm resorting to my age old method of burying myself in work.  I shall no doubt emerge in time for Christmas with very little physical health.

Where is "The Line"?
Things cross it so frequently at the moment.  People's Facebook pages are just collections of things that will definitely annoy others.  I come from that standpoint that everyone is a hypocrite but people all have different levels where their personal brand of hypocrisy commences.  Some are quite high and some less so.  I don't think many of them are bad people.  I do believe that 90% of the people I meet in my lifetime will be good people otherwise I'd have trouble leaving my house in the morning.

Christmas is particularly good at annoying people for varying reasons, one of mine is people saying "Happy Christmas" who get annoyed when I say "Merry Birthday".  CHRISTmas is particularly pertinent at the moment with the particular brand of anti Islam sentiment behind bandied about on social media (giving ISIS exactly what they want for CHRISTmas no less).  People are being outraged at complaints about Nativity scenes (which are usually historically inaccurate anyway, and that's if you consider Gospel to be.....well....you get the idea). Often groups of good people with particular spiritual beliefs complain about images of a man with a white beard and a red suit as being morally corrupt and ruining the message.  It seems some of those people are outraged that the Nativity might offend others in the same way the bloke in red does to them.

Luckily us bloke in red devotees are a thick skinned bunch.  I just hope anyone who is offended by Nativity scenes or Father Christmas doesn't have to plan a wedding anytime soon.  That is a guaranteed method to offend people in ways you couldn't ever imagine.  The happiest day of your life is preceded by months of the most miserable days (which makes the wedding day seem like the happiest day).  When you think about it, you pay all your savings, buy everyone a meal, have to stay sober, dress in very uncomfortable clothes and leave the party earlier than everyone else, plus you have to speak in public which is something most people fear more than dying.

It will likely offend people (the kind of people who begin some sentences with "I'm sorry but...." which clearly indicates that they either A- don't know what sorry means or B- aren't actually sorry (a liar) that if I were to properly offend people I'd get a choir to sing "Woody Allen Jesus" at a Christmas Carols night.

Why do people say that? "I'm sorry but......" You're not bloody sorry! it's an interjection where someone doesn't want to be held accountable for the next thing to say.  I make a living out of saying things to people and if you have to begin your sentence with "I'm sorry but" you're about to say the wrong one.  I'm sorry works best either at the end of a sentence, or at its beginning, closely followed by a justification for your feelings of sorrow.

Anyway that made no sense at all, how organic.  Oh shit it was meant to be orgasmic.

I'm sorry but.....

I.M

Lonely Me

Its one of those things that people told me about that still didn't cross my mind at the time.  I miss being able to sleep in the same bed as My wife.  She's co-sleeping and my bowel (or lack thereof) means I get up several times a night.  When this happens I wake Jnr so I've exiled myself to the guest room (workout room).

Its odd sleeping on a sofa bed and living half out of a suitcase.  It reminds me a lot of my uni days and months ago when this all started I had a dream that I was back at Uni Hall.  In a horribly ironic way (take note Alanis) I share a bathroom with a girl that I have deep romantic feelings for but she has another boy in her bed.  Plus once Jnr sleeps I must creep around the house and anyone who knows me also knows I am as good at creeping as I am at dealing with disappointment.

I think this has been bubbling under the surface for a while and hey I understand that I'm not the one getting up at night and feeding etc.  Not for a moment am I saying that my wonderful wife isn't doing more than her share.  I sleep as soundly as possible then get up to go pay the bills and come home to help out before they go to sleep again.  Im sure she feels as isolated as me.

Since "my" bedroom has been doubling as a workout room for my super wife to practise some PT skills, Billy the poodle has been banned because nobody wants to workout with a room that stinks like six foot grumpy man and standard poodle.  Its gotten very lonely of late especially in the last few weeks where going to sleep alone is pretty damn depressing.

I'm hoping to seek out some help but as always with things of this nature they happen at the most inopportune times. Im not saying that I'm never happy but the joking quick witted bloke that most people see is mostly a facade, its like the well dressed, well mannered, nice smelling and generous representative of oneself that appears for the first date.  I have a public persona and I have me.  Im just not very comfortable being me.

What have I learned? Im happy when I'm busy. It has to be engaging and fulfilling.  Anyone can be busy but can they be absorbed in what they're doing.  That's probably why I like building and DIY, it absorbs me.  Plus the corrugated iron's parents won't come in and ask why its not as straight at the corrugated iron that has been put up by others.  Paint goes where its put and doesn't decide to wander off and pick an argument with the drills.

I need validation, like a drug.  I spent most of my primary school competing with somebody who was my best friend but at the end of the day I was maybe a better speller.  Certainly not as popular, not as fit, not as sporty, awful teeth, bad posture and probably those things were the beginning of my lacklustre self esteem.  I've played basketball for coming up to 27 years.  I've never registered a best player vote, scored more than 11 points in a game (where people were trying desperately to help me score) or been a significant part or a premiership, that last one I got dragged before we went into overtime for forcing up a shot early in the clock.

I want validation because I want people to tell me I'm good because it's something that I just cannot do.  I heard someone say they made an "amazing salad" today.  I know that if I had built the Eiffel Tower I still could never tell myself that it was good.  I'd think that it was being up myself.  I want to not feel like the biggest prick walking the earth.  I'll make you cups of tea, buy you drinks, heap praise and help wherever I can as long as somewhere down the line you will think I'm a good person and possibly tell me (even though I'll deny it).

I want to be happy.  Im not saying that I'm completely miserable.  There are things that make me happy motorbike riding, listening to music, going out, seeing people smiling at me (and me thinking they're not taking the piss).  I remember in primary school there was a kid (who went to to be du of the high school) he could do anything, sport, academia, socially capable the total package.  He used to make fun of me being fat.  So one afternoon in response I made a crack about his Asian background and a teacher overheard me.  I got into the standard trouble and during the line of questioning that I've followed in my own career, she asked me why I had said what I did.  My reply was that he had made a joke about me being fat so I.....I was cut off right there and told I had to apologise because "you are fat".  I've never really understood that.  Prejudice is meant to be universally wrong or at least I thought.

So Im waiting to speak to someone about being happy again and until then I will try to be a pleaser.  Plus I'll be waiting behind others who have real problems and aren't just raging, untalented, only wingers like me.

Inflatably Yours

Famous Me?

Sitting backstage in the first day of rehearsal and trying desperately to not let all of the excitement get to my head.  Luckily my son and motorbike have helped to curb my enthusiasm by not sleeping soundly and then breaking the petrol cap lock mechanism.  Chances of riding bike to opening night in a finished state have now skuppered.

So I’ve now had all the moments of seeing the famous people’s posters and autographs backstage and taking numerous selfies with the terrific and tragic (not sure where Rita McNeill falls).  Currently sitting and listening to some music and trying my best to look cool and calm by blogging.  If you’ve seen me backstage and have read this please let me know how I did.

I'm headed out west with my headphones on... 

Inflatable Me?

My old blog is lost somewhere.  Well it isn't lost but Google (perhaps in one of its many virus attacks) cant let me have it again in case I break it or write something they don't like.

Why the title?
Tim Minchin's Song "Inflatable You" is quite funny and it was my third desperate attempt after "terminally me" and "incurably me".  Does this mean that I am undergoing some kind of Freudian desire to be unwell? (I wouldn't say no to some extra time in bed), so if you are a psychotherapist then please comment and save me from having to access my frightfully expensive health cover that covers everything except being sick.

I miss sleep and since Jnr has joined the world Mrs I.M is getting far less than me.

I've been a father for one year now. Jnr I.M is small and cute.

I have no hair and I'm in a Musical in just under two weeks time.

Since my last post in 2011 there have been 4 prime ministers and only one election (odd) this turn of events has inspired my love of Clark and Dawe on the ABC.

More shortly. I hope.

https://youtu.be/xsCv2e9-268