Been a difficult weekend for me having had to work yesterday morning well I say yesterday morning it was more like till 3 PM, before I headed out of town gig with my DJ boss. I had to do my normal work yesterday which meant - having to take calls - and in light of my recent issues with certain aspects of that - the day was without doubt the most stressful of my career there.
So, there are some decisions that need to be made.
Where do I go from here, because the state of play can't continue like this - there are options - and hopefully we can find one which which does not affect my financial situation - however if I have to take a small temporary hit - then that is something I have to do.
In relation to that, I had started to write my letter of resignation towards the back end of last week, however as a consequence - although I have not finalised any definitive decision - it seems the only sensible decision open to me to make.
As I've said previously the status quo is slowly killing me, and I generally do not know how much more of this I can deal with.
I think that moving away from the scenes of my abuse is the only outlet - I have left - but this means leaving everything here - this decision pleases no one - but life has given me a pretty fucking horrific hand. This is just a continuation of that.
As for the gig, it went alright - crowd was piss easy to play for - and temporarily it took my mind off the shitty things that I've had to deal with - however returning home to an empty house 1:30 in the morning did cause a few emotional issues.
Went up to mothers today - lied again - which in itself is doing my head in. But I know deep down - that's it's best for me and mum, that she does not know the torment that I'm currently in.
Due to be back at work tomorrow - oh what a delightful day it will be.
I would write about the latest goings on in my life - but it's safe to say that it's as your intrepid writer has said in previous days and he doesn't want to bore you any longer with that shite - so you depressive guys who want to read some depression porn can bugger off - I'm not going to write to make you consider your lives could be worse this evening!
However I am going to write about some of the technological goings on with two of my DJ softwares. Namely Ableton Live - of which I paid a pretty dime a few weeks ago after years utilising friends copies - yeah I know - proper rude of me - and Traktor of whom I stopped playing live with in favour of the Rekordbox economic system some six months ago after using it for some five years.
In Traktor's latest update - the 2.11.0 update that is - they have FINALLY added on the Ableton Link. This is massive news - as l have been looking for an alternative method of adding loops and samples to my set up without the need of fuck arsing around with the metronome or master clock on Traktor.
It is a relative breeze to get it all set up and running and I suspect I will have plenty of fun playing with it over the coming weeks and months - the real interesting part for me will be if and when Rekordbox comes on board - as it will open the world up to a lot of up and coming producers and DJs who are looking to add a Fugue Machine or some additional percussion over that Macro Plex or Plastician number - or cut the bass out of that shitty Skrillex track (numerous to name) and strip it down to some 303 acid (IDEA!).
The options and ideas have now become as endless as the figments of your wildest and craziest imaginations - I've got some ideas already and I have no doubt you people will too.
So I headed back into work this morning and it was torturous -absolutely fucking torturous. I hate going back into work after days off particularly when it's not been for pleasurable reasons - and let's be honest - the previous two days have been anything but that.
For one I was left to my own devices, which at times can be a good thing, but in my current state of mind not so.
I've been getting some pretty disturbing thoughts - fucking dictation come on!
One such thought, came on my night ride which I did straight after work this evening. I was heading along the road to the Imperial down towards Hythe - when the heady thought of walking into the sea came into my head - talking about such thoughts - isn't easy - however the important thing is that nothing came out of it - this is why your author is here.
So I am coming to the end of my second day off this week, and it's it's going to be my last day of this week - as I just can't contemplate another day in the flats on my own.
This is what my depression, my anxiety, my general all state of play is right now.
And it's horrendous. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy, okay that's not quite true.
But you get my point.
There is a certain staleness about all of this. I can’t put my finger on it.
And I'm scared.
Scares that my friends and family are getting to that point as well with me - which would be understandable considering how long I have had this to deal with.
Staying at home not going to work - obviously isn't good to me.
This is one of me worst aspects of depression and anxiety that I have to deal with on a day-to-day basis. Whether that's going into work, going to the gym going on my bike going out to see my mum and sister, even before a gig - the idea of staying underneath the quilt - is hibernating is very appealing, particularly when I feel like this - which is pretty much every fucking day right now.
The one thing about my current bout of illness is just how useless professionals or people who you would expect to be able to help or guide me to the best form of therapy or treatment - and instead all they can give me are telephone numbers. Last Thursday I spent 45 minutes on the phone talking to a mental health specialist and in the end - what do I get given?
More cunting telephone numbers.
I jokingly said to my boss, if I was the criminal if I was the paedophile here I would’ve been given all the support possible - and when we think about it - there is no joking about it.
Because I would have had all the help that the state could give. Admittedly I would've been in prison 10 years - bar no doubt my mind that I wouldn't have been treated as hideously as I have been.
I would have had weekly if not daily meetings with a shrink - a clear and guided plan to get me on the straight and narrow etc.
Isn’t that a fucking indictment on a system, which year after year, decade after decade failed its most vulnerable members of society.
Well enough of me ranting on and on - it's not doing me any fucking good - and now I need to get ready to go to bed - I need to make a guest appearance at work tomorrow.
And so ends another Monday and another day where I've not been able to get out of bed - called work early doors and thinking to myself just when the fuck am I'm going to be able to do a full week of work - life just seems to be a continuing spill of a fucking shite right now.
Getting off the phone from the boss - I screamed and cried that I had failed yet again. Just one week, is all I fucking right now away from feeling like this.
One. Fucking. Week.
There is so many roads and avenues and tributaries to this illness at the moment - its not like where I've gone up and down like a fucking yo-yo - its been a slow, gradual and deceiving decent into the current state that I'm in.
And that's half the problem. The very thought that it may take as long for me to get out of this current hole is just gut wrenching for me. There does not seem to be any light at the end of the tunnel at this time. And so, I need to start looking at other ways to combat this.
Getting up tomorrow at a reasonable time will be a good starter. We will see whether we can do just that.