Just Married

Just Married
Originally uploaded by j8g.

Well, not quite just, been married for a whole week now.



Will write more on our return, but the suffice to say the day was wonderful and honeymoon is fantastic.

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Sent from my Treo

Am I...

...on the outside looking in...


...or the inside looking out?

Tired

Drugs of choice:
40mg Fluoxetine
8mg Acrivastine as required
Cream Soda
Donderevo

A change of antihistamine. According to the notes, the tablets I was taking shouldn't cause tiredness, but I have been so exhausted lately that I have to try something. These new tablets are taken on demand, they only take 15 minutes to start working. So far I haven't needed one, so who knows how good they are?

The tiredness could be related to my procrastination. I have some work to do, but nothing exciting, demanding or urgent. So I put it off, occupy myself in other ways, and end up doing not a lot at all. My brain isn't being exercised, so it is slowing down.

Sent my cv off in response to a job advertised online. Don't know why, doubt I'll even get an interview, but it felt like something I wanted to do.

Seeing the doctor this afternoon. Need a fresh prescription for my fluoxetine. I will talk to him about the tiredness, about not wanting to reduce my dose until after returning from my honeymoon. I am nervous about 'coming down' after a 3 week holiday and all of the excitement of the wedding.

Grumpet

Apparently, that's what I am. Or at least it was how H described me based on the mood I was in last night. After my discussions at work, I was feeling low. Plus, I've been feeling very tired lately. Never mind, off to see the doctor tomorrow, I'm sure he can wave a magic wand.

Trepidation

When I was signed off from work in December 2004, I didn't return for 3 months. I went through counselling to discover that it was not work that I found impossible, it was the job I was in. I did not want to be a manager, I fundamentally disagreed with our performance management appraisal system. The job I was doing was overstretched and undervalued.

When I was finally able to start talking to my manager again, I went through each of these issues with her and she made changes so that my temporary replacement did not suffer as I had. We agreed that while I wanted to return to work, I did not want to return to that role. My temporary replacement became permanent and the changes in his role continued until it has now become an achievable job. I am glad that he does not have to go through the problems that I did.

So instead a new job was 'invented' for me. It was a return to my more technical background and a chance to learn some new skills that would leave me feeling less incapable of finding work. I have now been in that role for just under 5 months and the fact that it was invented for me is reflected by the somewhat less than taxing nature of my workload.

On my return it was agreed that this would be a six month trial for me and the role – would I be happy in that job, could I cope and was that job needed by the department?

The new role has the following downsides:
Giving up the company car
Being based in one location rather than 2
Having a different manager

The company car has to be returned when it reaches 60,000 miles, which will be not long after returning from honeymoon. The cost of having to run my own car should be offset by the fact that I will pay a lot less income tax each month. I hope. However, I will miss having such a gorgeous car and not having to worry about the hassle of maintaining it.

Our company has two locations, one about 20 miles from where I live, the other about 70. My main location is the 70 mile trip. While I have been easing back in to my job I have been allowed to spend two days a week in the more local office. I have been asked to start working towards spending all week in the main location. The commuting has a major effect on my physically, and while I car share with H for 3 days of the week, she is only part time, so the other 2 I will be on my own. I am worried about this.

The change in manager has been significant. I used to work for D. I now officially report to N, who works for P, who is at the same management level as D.

Don't worry, you won't need to remember all these 'names'.

The fact that I am 'down a level' doesn't bother me. I'm just glad noone has to report to me anymore. Unfortunately, N is not exactly a dynamic manager, and hes left most of the managing to P. P leaves quite a bit to be desired.

She was supposed to organise monthly progress meetings with her, myself and D. We had one in March when I initially returned and today we had the second, nearly 5 months later. Hmmm. She is not a people person, she tends to be more abrupt. I miss working for D.

She wants to start stretching me, so I have agreed to book a training course for when I return from my honeymoon and then take on a new objective, a little project to see how I cope. I am nervous about this, but know that it is what I need, otherwise I will die of boredom. So it seems my trial of this new role will be extended.

My biggest concern is the 5 days a week working up here. How will I cope? How will I cope if things go according to plan and H becomes pregnant after we marry and gives up work?

So, I enter a period of trepidation.

Can I cope physically and mentally working 5 days here?
Can I cope financially if I go part time, and only work 4 days a week?
Or can I cope financially if I take a significantly lower paid but full time job in the other office?

The next few months will show.

History

As my readership appears to be expanding, and to help me avoid writing about things that I've already done to death, I thought I would post a little background and summary of the story so far...

I'm JAG, I'm 33 and I suffer with depression.

I met J in 1991, we married in 1996 and we had two children, my daughter B (now 6) and son G (now 3).

Towards the end of 2003, my mother became very sick - Catalyst – and in January 2004 she died. I haven't been able to write about this yet, but I have been able to talk about the funeral – Catalyst Part 3. My mother's death did not cause my depression, instead it started a series of changes in my life that lead in that direction. I inherited her strength, her courage and determination, and used them to make some serious decisions about my life.

In April 2004, J & I broke up and have since divorced - A year ago today... The upheavals in my personal life no doubt contributed to my troubles, but it was work that really caused my stress and depression.

I have worked for the same company, big pharma, since 1992. Various changes culminated in my feeling suicidal and breaking down in December 2004 - Cause and Effect.

Fortunately, by then I was madly in love with H. She is 31, she is beautiful, she works two desks away from me and she saved my life – Celebrations.

We marry in 11 days' time. I hope you continue reading to find out what happens and to see the gaps in my history fill in.

I'm getting better.

Missing

Missing
Originally uploaded by j8g.

Well, my stag night in London was excellent.



There was a really positive atmosphere in the hotel, at bars and clubs, out on the streets. Our hotel was just down the road from where the bus was attacked, some of the streets were still closed to traffic and 'Missing' posters were stuck on telephone boxes and bus shelters. There was a heavy police presence.

But everyone was having fun. The police were jovial, joining in with the fun. We had our picture taken with some and as we walked back to the hotel in the early hours of the morning, we bought Mars bars for some others.

Although the Tubes were quieter than usual, the clubs were packed as always. We were defiant, once again the terrorists had failed.

Returning home today, the Tubes were still a mess, delays and line closures, the tannoy announcements constant. But nobody was complaining. The anger and frustration that would have been the norm was nowhere to be seen.

A young lad tried his, no doubt usual, trick of hiding in the toilet to avoid paying his fare. This weekend it wasn't going to work, as there were regular security checks and he was found. His abusive responses were rewarded with him being ejected from the train.

A great night out with my friends and family. Lots of food, beer, vodka, cigars and laughter.

Oh, and lap dancing. A surreal (but certainly enjoyable) experience.

--

Sent from my Treo

Normality

Call it British Resolve, Blitz Mentality, Resilience, whatever, already life returns to normal. Tubes, trains and buses are running again. There tales of sorrow, of grief, of fear and amazing strength and bravery. This picture has hit me more than any other, the thought of walking through those tunnels seems to sum up life. And death.

I grew up in London, worked in and around the places that were attacked. I travelled on those tubes, walked those streets and I'm proud to be a Londoner. Tomorrow night I celebrate my stag night, in and around Russell Square. Terrorism only works by spreading terror. Tomorrow night my friends and family go out to prove that once again, they have failed.

Another image has inspired me over the last couple of days, in this post in Been Broken, the latest addition to my daily reads. It's beautiful and it, along with the text, strikes so many chords.

Fcuked Up.

It is two days to my stag night, planned to take place around Russell Square. It is hard to imagine any fun taking place near there at the moment. But life must go on, otherwise they win.

Catalyst Part 3

Yes, I know I haven't written part 2 yet, I'm not try to do a George Lucas, it's just that at the moment it is easier for me to jump from illness to funeral.

Last night, on Channel 4, there was a documentary entitled 'Gridlock', about the chaos caused on the roads by heavy snow on January 30th 2003. (Out of interest, it featured Jag of Route 79, whose journey home took hours that night).

It also happened to be the night before my mother's funeral.

The first we realised something was wrong was on the M25. We had heard forecasts of snow, and as the funeral was in North London we were glad we had taken the sensible decision to book into a hotel the night before. We set off from Kent in the afternoon, just in case the weather turned bad. We needed to get to junction 25 of the M25 and as we reach junction 27 it was snowing quite hard.

Pretty soon it was obvious that this was no ordinary snow flurry, the traffic ground to a halt. The distance we should have covered in about 10 minutes took almost 2 hours. I was in the car with my children and (my now ex-)wife J. J's parents were heading down from the north to meet us at the hotel, and phone conversations suggested they were experiencing similar weather and delays.

The M25 was soon a car park and the last few hundred yards of our journey along it was a cheeky crawl up the hard shoulder, as we were one of few trying to get off at that exit. We carefully followed the slippery local roads to our hotel and were very glad of our reservation – quite a few people were in reception who had decided to give up on their journeys and find a room for the night.

We checked in, found our room and a call to J's parents suggested that we go on to the restaurant and order dinner, they would catch up with us later. We ate, the meal punctuated with mobile phones ringing as stranded travellers checked on their families and vice versa. My eldest sister contemplated coming to join us at the hotel rather than risk her journey home, but realised that either destination would be equally difficult, and she would be stuck with nothing to wear for the funeral.

We returned to the hotel reception, where they were now turning people away as all the rooms were full. Having checked that they would keep J's parents' room for them, we went upstairs. By the time the children were ready for bed, J's parents still hadn't arrived. They assured us they would be there later but, rather than disturb us and the children, would wait to see us at breakfast.

The view from the window was a blanket of snow, in the distance a line of lorries parked on the M25. We went to sleep.

The next morning we awoke to find the white blanket was still covering everything. At around 6am my mobile rang. We assumed it was J's parents asking us when we wanted breakfast. In fact, it was the hotel calling to see if I still wanted the room I had booked - J's parents had spent the night in their car, on the motorway. Later that morning I had to head over to my mum's flat to prepare for the funeral. One lane of the M25 was open and as most other drivers had decided to stay at home, I was able to carefully make my way along to next exit and my mother's home. I got stuck a couple of times but made it there and back.

By this time, J's parents had made it to the hotel. While J and I prepared to go to the service, they took the children off to build snowmen.

Come the time of the funeral, we were lucky the hearse was a big old rear wheel drive model, managing to gently glide from flat to funeral. For the last few yards the funeral director got out to walk in front of the car, the poor man slipping and falling over in front of everyone.

There was something extra solemn about a funeral in the snow. Fortunately, mum was being cremated so there was no frozen grave to worry about. It was a sign of people's respect for her that many managed to travel so far in such bad conditions. We imagined mum being up above somewhere, watching over us, passing judgement on those who couldn't be bothered to make it!

On that day, my mother left two legacies. In front of friends and family I was shown to be a 'grown-up', looking after my elder sisters, organising a funeral and looking after my mother's estate. And my children, in particular my daughter, will always have happy memories of staying in a hotel and building snowmen.

You can see the landmarks of this blog entry in Google Earth by downloading this.

Maps

I have had a near lifelong fascination with maps. Not in some geeky, obsessive way, I don't hoard them, but I've always found them interesting.

I suppose, as I child growing up in London, the London Underground Map was a constant feature of my life. It is an icon in its own right. Then, at school, part of our geography lessons were based on learning how to use an Ordnance Survey map, probably the only part of the geography curriculum that I was actually interested in.

On rare occasions, with time to kill, I have sometimes seen something on a map and then made the journey to see it for real, just to find out what it looks like on the ground. Is that long, straight road really that long and straight (and if so, how fast can I drive along it)? Is that hill really that steep?

And so, I have become addicted to Google Earth. If you have a similar addiction, here is the location of Doris, who featured in my first blog entry.

Expect more topographical posts in the future.

Self-harm - DIY

Self-harm - DIY
Originally uploaded by j8g.

Who needs depression when DIY can provide a means for cutting yourself without the stigma of mental illness?



While trying to remove the old silicone sealant around the bath I managed to slice a section of nail and finger off. Not so dramatic to require anything other than a plaster, but enough to make it hurt the day after and make it damn difficult to type.



--

Sent from my Treo

Overcompensation

Weight: 10st 11lbs
Miles cycled this week: 42

Drugs of choice:
Fluoxetine 40mg
Loratadine 10mg
Google Earth (now addicted)
Mars Bar

The problem with cycling to work is the extra appetite it induces far outweighs any diet assistance it provides, or so it appears. Having had my usual Special K bar this morning, after arriving at work I had a second breakfast of bacon, sausage, fried egg and mushrooms. My lunch of a tuna baguette was also supplemented with a narcotic-like fix of a Mars Bar.

I repeated my cycle home last night / cycle in to work this morning effort of a fortnight ago. It felt easier than last time, whether that's fitness levels or weather conditions I don't know. Any weight loss will no doubt be regained thanks to my raging post-cycle hunger. I suppose there's the excuse that muscle is heavier than fat, and my legs are looking slightly more attractive in my lycra shorts than usual.

Despite leaving me physically exhausted, I do feel it gives me an emotional or mental boost, which is a good thing. Work has been a little slow, and boredom tends to bring on moments of depression.