Dramatically Me

Series 11 of Doctor Who has been heralded a triumph by most mainstream media with the episode, 'Rosa'the jewel in the crown of the nu who nu era. 

I am not a fan of Series 11 (which makes me a mysoginist and a "hater"....apparently) I have no qualm about the 13th Doctor being female but after 12 straight male incarnations it seems a tad pointless.  What I dont like the clique casting that goes on in television. Chris Chibnall originally wanted Olivia Coleman to be the doctor (good choice as she can act well). He knew her from Broadchurch. She turned the role down so he seemingly went to the next best famale from Broadchurch in Jodie Whitaker?

I clearly have no sway in the casting but I think if the BBC is keen to keep one of its mainstay money earning shows.....earning money then cast the bast actor (and I say actor for male and female because once Jodie took over we didnt start calling the show Doctress Who). If they dont want it cast the next best actor and so on.  If the best actor is male and wants the job, cast them.  Same goes if they're female. Please Chibbers, step outside Broadchurch for your performers. I know this is commonplace in all performing where producers, writers and driectors work with actors and the afroementioned that they are fimilliar with and have a good relationship with. For something to be a success the best ideas and performers have to win and I don't think they have here.  I hope Jodie can be her own doctor in series 12 instead of mimmicking her Broadchurch co-star David Tennant.

Onto Rosa. The story of Rosa Parks not giving up her seat on the bus which kickstarted the civil rights movement is quite well known and a very important one to be told.  Chibnall's scrip centers on a racist descendant of earth from the distant future trying to prevent these events from taking place and preventing the civil rights movement.

Sounds compelling and the story had moments of dramatic strength. It was visually well executed and the acting apart from Jodie and the future space racist man, was decent. My issue is the main idea behind this. Chibnall has created a world where, even thousands of years into the future, racism still exists. What a hopeless world that is. I cant tell honestly if he meant to highlight the importance of Rosa Parks actions or to illustrate their futility as they ultimately (in his world) dont amount to the beginning of the end of racism.

Thats my point. Oh and someone tell Jodie the costume was great until they got the Bay City Rollers pants.

I.M

Regressive Me

This down has lasted longer than normal. I believe some life circumstances intervened to bring me back down while I was travelling in the other direction. My plans for next year are in utter disarray. I feel like time is running out to make decisions and I can’t win with any decision I’d make now. I’m surrounded by well meaning people trying to make me happy while my finger hovers over the reset button of my life. Just change everything, throw all that makes you comfortable and individual out and start again with something more palatable to others. 

I caught myself suggesting I sell or part exchange my dream car (partly because it’s plenty of work and partly because my plans to buy a van were scuttled by: surprising news and a subsequent case of fear from the “what if’s”. 

I’m not in a talking mood. At work I put on my bravest face but I have no energy to maintain this at home. Breathing and talking is a chore and I think I’ll have an aneurism if someone else tells me “you know you mean a lot....” or trues to hug me. 

Trouble sleeping so medication to the rescue. I’m waking up feeling hung over and nauseated but getting up is still a chore. I’m not sure if it’s a combo of the depression and meds and lack of sleep but I’m forgetting things, lunch, keys, drink bottle, wallet etc every day. 

Truly tiring. 

Depressive Me

With 1 in 8 men experiencing depression its not surprising that I am one of them.  Im also one of the lucky ones in many respects.  I have a mild variety and I have the financial stability to get help.  Depression comes in different strengths that last for different periods, so its like beer.

Mine essentially means fluctuating moods that sit within a predictable pattern (for me 2-4 weeks at a time) I can be very upbeat, almost hypomanic and within 24 hours think of myself in the best possible light as an utter c**t.  Please no fawning over "oh I really think you're terrific" because my head doesnt read those as being genuine.  In my head people say nice things out of pity on account of me being a c**t (see how this works).

During my "up" time Im quite indifferent to myself (have never been positive about me).  The "downs" can come on quite quickly or can be managed quite well until something brings the whole show down.  Stress and conflict arent good for anyone with mental health issues.  Teaching is not a wise career choice (guess at some point I was a dumn c**t).

Treatment is available and my psychologist (Cate) is wonderfully helpful. She is 400km away though.  Consults over the phone are available but at $170 per pop I really need to be at a crisis point to have one, plus there aren't many private spaces to have that kind of ohone call in my life.

Its quite hard to pick when the "down" starts.  Normally its easier to see after coming out of such an experience and counting back the events which are always clearer in hindsight. As far as treating it goes, its bad enough that people notice it, but not bad enough that I consider self harming at all.  As I said I just feel like a c**t. 

My reaction usually involves two options:

1. Distraction: do something, anything, engaging enough to ride it out while interacting with as few people as possible. Shop on ebay, build something, paint something, get work done, organise drawers, detail the car, mow lawns.

2. Change: do whatever convluted thing I can think of to make myself into a better person (less of a c**t) or to be someone else, give posessions away, buy new clothes, cut hair off, distabce myself from activities I enjoy, skip meals or engage in activities that will stress my body out to the point of braking: saying 'yes' to extra yard duty, volunteering to do things, work through breaks, drink too much coffee. Anything that can be seen as punishing myself foe being a total c**t and hopefully make me less of one.

When I read about people who've died from mental illness Im not scared Ill do that same at all.  I can empathise with the mask.  I only have to do it in 14-28 day increments.  Imagine doing that for years at a time. It's exhausting.  Since my bowel resection I have not selpt properly in 10 years. I think I bottomed ut today so I must have anywhere from a week to two weeks before I'll be very happy.

The only advice I can give is what I'd like others to do in regard to my state and I've already mentioned it.  Don't fawn over someone depressed, it can come acress (granted unintentionally, but they're doubtful in a place to make that distinction) as patronising and false.  Ask them how they're doing and have a regular conversation.  I dont strive to feel "special". My aim is "normal, average, proficient" (one for the teachers).

I.M

Twonky Me

I wanted to write about how the internet should be our saviour from the throw-away economy but I'm pissed off.

I'm at a new level of pissed off. I'm pissed off to the point I cant even stay on topic. I'm vain, well not vain but I'm extremely insecure about how I look.  I own one pair of trackies I can wear to work (one day per week) that are (were) a uniform colour, comfortable and neat.  I don't anymore and will have to be wearing them tomorrow. 

The other casualty of this is my (relatively) new jumper that I got as a birthday gift.  its now no longer very warm, overstretched and more pilled than Keith fucking Richards.  The pants are a mottled black thanks to the pilling on them from being put in the wash with things that shouldn't go in the wash with them.  The jumper (no longer fit for anything but the shed, but no good for the shed because inside the shed is fucking freezing) in only three months old and cost a bomb, mostly in freight.  The pants are three weeks old.

Who doesn't like nice things? I cant well expect that I'll just replace either item and it'll result in me begrudgingly sulking around in them feeling like a twonk.  Trying to be Mr rational and keep on keeping on but it's had when the 3 month old clothes (that I really like) now resemble the daggy ones that are a decade old.

Rant ends, I'm sitting up watching the laundry so that Mrs I.M will have clean clothes for work.  And making soup.

I.M

Mortally Me

Interesting that the thoughts I'm trying to get out have been rattling around in my head for a few weeks but Im struggling.

It began with being unwell, being unwell is a pain under any circumstances.  Being unwell while having a chronic autoimmune disease is pain..ier?  The first and probably most embarrassing sign of being unwell is waking up in a puddle of one's own faeces (Think Spud from Trainspotting).  Why is that important? Every sickness that I seem to experience involves my gut, its getting harder to tell if its a cold, gastro, flu, or that my IBD is back.  There are few things that I've experienced that are now as humbling as the early stages of being unwell.  Something to really take the wind from one's sails.

So there's the being unwell, and not knowing what is wrong but then there's the dying part.  Having had an attack bad enough to have had my large intestine removed gives me a new and slightly deeper level of paranoia about this.  I am more likely to develop cancer than the normal person but in understanding probability and large numbers, I know it's not a given.

On Friday a workmate died.  Its the second person whom I've worked with in two years to lose the fight with cancer.  It reinforces the knowledge that I will only orbit the Sun a finite number of times and that my number is likely to be less than the average.  Aside from all of the feeling crap and the implications that; it's a cold with lots of added features thanks to my altered body it introduces that period of doubt.  That point when you know "I'm not sick by I'm not well".  Being on the way down with lots of silly and generic symptoms.  Difficulty sleeping, headaches, dizzyness.  I don't for a moment think I'm terminally ill but I also remember that neither did these people.  

The pessimism, worry and stress are all extremely tiring.  The hurt and loss only make that worse too.  Things will get better and I'm sure that at some point I'll be able to confidently fall asleep again.  I just with I knew when that would be.

Maybe they were the thoughts I needed to get down somewhere.

Insecure Me

Insecurities abound in our lives (they certainly do in mine), but where do they come from? How do they develop and how do we deal with them?  Not everything I write in this blog is necessarily a factual recount of my life but an attempt at a stream of consciousness about things I find interesting.  Electronic self indulgence.

I think everyone is insecure about something.  Society changes and for some the perception of someone's insecurity falls away due to change in attitude by the populous but that may not be the case for the individuals.  Take being LGBTQI.  Marriage equality laws have passed, you have been considered equals (well overdue in my opinion) yet there are still a huge number of people who suffer mental illness and commit acts of self harm and suicide because they fear the reaction of others if the come out.  Just because something is legalised doesn't magically take away the insecurity felt by the individual.

Some people face their insecurity head on and make fantastic strides toward self empowerment and actively choose to make their lives if not exceptional, at least different.  Some people choose to share their insecurities with loved ones and find those extremely private, intimate thoughts and worries will be used against them.  Some make jokes about their insecurities.  Eddie Izzard was extremely nervous about coming out about being Transgender to his father and then went on stage in what he calls "girl mode" and it's become his thing. I've made mine known for a long time and for anyone who doesn't know its my body.  In a time before "fat shaming" I lived the lifestyle of being ridiculed and feeling humiliated at (seemingly) every turn.  I make it clear with little jokes and asides "this body is built for drapery" or "You're all so lucky you don't have to live in here".

So how do they start? I really don't know but in following a stream of consciousness lets see where it can take us.  I have felt ashamed and embarrassed about my body since school.  I know when I look back at photos that I was the class "fat kid".  The Chris Griffin pool scene resonates well in my mind to encompass how I was treated by others including my friends and occasionally my family.  I can still remember finding a card in my mother's purse that was called an "identi-kid" see meaningless overprotective parent niche marketing was taking place in the 1980s too.  Anyway, it was a card to show police, security guards and centre management if you went missing at the shops.  It contained your name, date of birth, eye colour, hair colour and build.  Stocky (fat) I had been formally identified for the police to be looking out for a fat five year old if I'd gone missing.

Not my parents fault, the oft sick child who enjoyed cadbury chocolate, Smiths chips and Aero bars wasn't normally very active and spent a lot of time in bed.  Not an athlete at all I routinely came in last in all events at sports days up until events were called off before I had even finished in high school.  I think I might be the only student who nominated for the 1500m casual stroll only to have the next race begin while I still had 750m to go.

I guess I am insecure because I don't want to feel less than anyone else and that's what being picked on does.  The casual barb might seem to one person to be well mannered banter but to someone whose big insecurity you've hit on can be relationship changing.  To this end I've never taken my shirt off while in view of others at basketball.  I don't go swimming because even wearing a shirt in the water doesn't work because it clings.  I've hunched forward for the best part of 25 years to hide the "man cans".  All this for something that's in my head.  I'm not sure of the best way to meet this insecurity head on is.  Do I punch the "banter" provider in the face? Do I wear unnecessarily tight clothes and listen to loud music so I don't hear the comments?

People may read this and then want to tell me that I look fine.  That's a problem with insecurity.  It's an irrational misbalance of evidence.  I have thousands of incidences where my shape/weight was characterised as being a net negative to me as a person.  One person saying you're okay won't undo that, it needs to be reinforced until the balance shifts the other way.  turn the irrational into the rational.  I think that's why so many people have mid-life crises.  They are facing their insecurity about being old.  They grow pony tails, beards, get tattoos and buy motorbikes or sports cars, expensive clothes and awful popular music.  They dress like their teenage children and let them drink/smoke at home to befriend them as a peer.

People might dress up "cosplayers" are often very nervous about how they are perceived by others that they decide to become someone else.  Some just wear beads, and dance through shopping malls.  I take my hat off to those people for embracing the nervousness and re-channelling the energy into something good for themselves.

So whatever your insecurity is, don't think its better to be dishonest about it to save face for others.  You aren't living for other people.  You're living your life.  My favourite quote from Steve Jobs is "Your time is limited.  Don't waste it by living somebody else's life".  Thats the message, get out from the shadow of your insecurities and bask in the light of who you really are.  Meanwhile I'll be getting changed in the loo, because nobody needs to see that.
I.M

Aware Me

Feeling depressed is a strange thing.  It never seems to be a sudden onset thing.  More like realising that a character is not alone in the room during a spy film, they turn around and realise they've been watched the entire time.  Depressed feelings are often covert and I believe enter through crack in doors and gaps in windows.  A note to happy people, insulate your homes with foam rubber strips.

It either sneaks in or is just always there but only I only notice it when the rest of the world seems bad enough or busy enough that I'm often left alone and realise the all to familiar feeling.  A great thing to be writing about at the halfway point of fourth term.  I've started some cognitive behaviour therapy in the past few weeks which is interesting although Im skeptical that it will do anything to improve my opinions of myself but maybe the best outcome is to at least understand them.

It could also be in my best interests to begin examining what I actually want or crave.  I think I know but do I have the nerve to tell people and will I have the ability to process their reactions upon hearing?  Do I possess the faculties to filter out the outwardly positive and negative reactions and determine a balanced truth? I don't have the answers. I have always wanted the answers but have never had the guts to throw myself at something without knowing the answer beforehand.  Maybe now needs to be the time, good or bad.

There are no shocking revelations forthcoming.  I want the same as what a lot of others want, with a twist.  I want to be recognised as good at something.  Not just anything but something that I want to be good at.  I loved going to the gym a few years back, it helped be be in better shape for basketball, feel better about myself and see that I was improving myself.  I even booked personal training sessions and paid in advance.  I only used one of the four that I paid for.  I don't want to be a gym junkie but it allowed me to be not than the worst player on my basketball team.  I love playing but the game is so reactive for me, I cant get a step ahead I can only seem to play in the previous moment to the frustration of many a teammate.  I'm average height, average build, below average fitness, below average game skills and quantifiably the worst player on my team.  Two weeks ago I scored six points and was told I'd played "a blinder" of a game.  I'm quite sure everyone on the team scores six points most weeks and besides we lost by twenty.

I want people to legitimately recognise me as being good at something that I really care about.  I want what lost of people want, to be unique.  I can hear family members now saying 'oh you're so funny", "you're a good teacher"  "your child loves you", if that were the case I would have someone other than my family members saying that I'm a good teacher, I'd also have made it as a comic and my child is three and I play dinosaurs and vacuum cleaners.  Neither of those is true even through the CBT techniques.  I want to be able to feel that I am unique for being good at something I am passionate about and know (in myself) that it's true.

The unfortunate thing about my depressed states is that last part.  I am unable to see how it can be true.  That is the general tone of my life and I don't want a magical fix to my view of my life.  The change needs to be me.  I need to be able to understand it and not have some mythical Jimmy Saville "fix it" for me (terrible reference but I'm only thinking of the on camera version).  Of course effort plays a big role.  I do not put in an effort to be a better basketball player, it was obvious that when I did, I was.  Mindset gets in the way of effort and fatigue, work and depression have a huge impact on mindset.  CBT says that I am jumping to conclusions.  I say that as I already know I am the worst player and know that only a colossal amount of training will make be significantly better then why bother?

The result is that I am trying to grow new skills and see if there's a way that I can quietly strike out on my own and be unique to a point where I can legitimately feel satisfied with myself.  That's how I feel.  I know my moods will go up and down.  Work will get done, deadlines met, weeks pass until the break begins and I try to find the time to do this work on myself while I leave my family unsupported, then guilt kicks in.

I.M