Initial utter devastation at my new prostate illness prostatitis, but this time I fight back

Posted on January 17, 2025 by SCARFMAN

A blog about the trauma of getting prostatitis again, but how I am determined not to let it ruin everything this time around.

Panic

At age 48, my whole world came crashing down around me just before last Christmas time. I got a prostate infection called prostatitis and severe pelvic pain again, for the first time in over 25 years. I thought the living nightmare of this illness was over.

Regroup

Difference this time though is that I quickly regrouped, defiant not to let it destroy my life again. I refuse to let this illness aggressively emasculate me like it once did. I will get better soon, I will move forward with my career, and I will fall in love.

Recovery plan

I am being proactive this time by putting a recovery program in place straight away. Antibiotics cleared the infection. My excruciating burning pelvis will not feel never-ending, because this time I know a heroine in the form of my old pelvic floor physiotherapist.

Fight back

I refuse to suffer in silence now. I ask you, my fellow brave fighters, to come forward and join in the conversation with me. Only with more public awareness can we expect the taboo nature of this male health condition to disappear. No more suffering alone, together it is time to fight back.

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BBC One gives event TV a new lifeline on Christmas Day 2024

Posted on January 16, 2025 by SCARFMAN

We need to celebrate the resuscitation of event TV because it unites us as a nation.

Event TV is where you watch a much publicised TV show on the date it is broadcast, so you are then part of the ongoing conversation. It made a big comeback at the end of last year, as BBC One had the top ten viewed programmes on Christmas Day. Gavin & Stacey was watched by a reported 12.32 million viewers.

Large communal television viewing is a thing to cherish, because to touch on the work of Benedict Anderson, the image of an imagined community fosters comradeship.

However, there is little doubt in recent years what with the proliferation of channels and streaming services, event TV has been on the decline. Critics will argue I am being too nostalgic. They will say more channels and fragmented viewing has led to greater choice.

Maybe I am being a romanticist? Nevertheless, the evidence suggests event TV has finally come back to life, and so long may this continue. Do you agree or disagree with me?

Posted in BBC, BBC COMEDY, BBC1, ENTERTAINMENT, POPULAR CULTURE, THE ARTS, TV, TV REVIEW, UK TV, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

INTERMEZZO by Sally Rooney – A review – 4/5

Posted on December 31, 2024 by SCARFMAN

Intense grief, brotherhood, and sex

Intermezzo, the fourth novel by critically acclaimed Irish author Sally Rooney, is an absolute triumph that explores the impact of grief, family conflict, and unconventional relationships.

Having never read a novel by Sally Rooney before, I therefore came to it with little preconceived ideas about what to expect. Sure, I had heard bits about how her much celebrated Normal People was rather raunchy etc, but that was about it. All I knew was that Intermezzo was about two grieving brothers (Peter and Ivan Koubek) trying to recover from the recent loss of their much beloved 65 year old father.

This intrigued me immensely because I lost my father when I was 21 years old, just one year younger than Ivan. Back in 1998, my dad was 66 when he died. I therefore wanted to see if I could identify with some of Rooney’s fictional prose.  

Without spoiling any of the vital plot for you, I now want to include a short passage from near the end. It is one that moved me to tears because it touches upon my same experience after losing my dad.

‘But now that the event has come and gone, the funeral, the various rituals, only the loss remains, which can never be recuperated. The event is over, the event has been overcome, and yet the loss is only beginning … And nothing will ever bring his father back from the realm of memory into the reassuringly concrete world of material fact … how is it possible to accept this.’ (Rooney, Intermezzo, p379).

Rooney is thus unquestionably a wordsmith of unbelievable talent. That said, you have to get used to her individualistic style. At first, I found it quite jarring if I am honest, that much that I nearly gave-up on this supreme piece of work very early on.

There are no character speech marks for example. This meant at times I was not initially sure whether the prose was a character talking, or internal character dialogue taking place. Once I got used to her writing style I then proceeded with greater satisfaction.

Peter Koubek is aged 32 and a lawyer based in Dublin. Ivan is 22, and a former chess prodigy. Whereas Peter is confident, extroverted and a womaniser, Ivan is shy yet emotional, and has this endearing naivety to him. Their grief is shared, yet their differing personalities and life stories are what makes this such a cracking read.

Grief as noted is the overarching dominant theme of this story. Yet other taboo subjects are dealt with like big age gap differences in sexual relationships, polygamy, and suicide.

I therefore found myself thinking throughout this book. I state this as a big compliment to the author because not every novel out there deals with such profound topics. Yes, as I have already stated, I did find her style tricky at times to comprehend, but beneath all this I felt like I was reading something worthy and important.

I cannot complete this review without discussing the explicit nature of the depicted sex. Initially, I guess I was rather shocked and taken aback by it. My first reaction was to think thank God I never bought my mum this book for Christmas! I jest of course and one could argue this joke is a bit of a cheap shot and does not do Rooney’s highly skilled writing any sort of justice.

By the end my view about all the sex had come full circle somewhat. By this, I mean that none of it was gratuitous in any way. It does indeed give you a deeper and more intrinsic understanding of the characters and plot.

I guess the greatest compliment I can pay to Intermezzo, is that I found it a very cathartic read. As noted earlier on, it moved me immensely.

The originality and unconventionality of some of the resolved plot strands is another aspect of the writing that needs to be celebrated. It is never predictable and so this gives it a refreshing feel. Many times, I thought I know what is going to happen next here, only then to have been gleefully surprised that I was wrong.

An absolute must-read for those who want to read an author at the peak of their powers. Read more of Sally Rooney you say? Thank you, I shall be doing so soon! 4/5.

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Embrace change, embrace the FreeStyle Libre 2 for type 1 diabetes care

Posted on September 23, 2024 by SCARFMAN

Well. You know you make me wanna shout

Time to shout from the rooftops about my joy of using the FreeStyle Libre 2 Sensor by Abbott. It has completely revolutionised my type 1 diabetes care, and so had such a positive impact upon my life. If using this product has taught me one thing then it is to always embrace change, never fear it!

Waiting 120 seconds for a blood glucose reading

Hello, I am Andy, aged 47, from Manchester, England, and was diagnosed with type one diabetes when I was 17 years old. I can still clearly remember those very early days in hospital, where I practised injecting on an orange for a week (with a syringe) and it took 120 seconds to get a blood glucose reading. The latter used to feel like an eternity, but it was the latest technology we had back then.

My diabetes care became like a boring chore

After a short period of time after my diagnosis, the stark realisation hit me that I had type 1 diabetes for the rest of my life. I rebelled a bit if I am honest, about having to inject every day and constantly monitor my blood sugars wherever I went. On nights out at Uni with sugary sweets stuffed in all my pockets in case of a hypoglycaemic attack, I joked it made me look like blooming RoboCop.

I soon learnt doing vigorous exercise was a bit tricky.  This is because exercise sends your blood glucose levels down, hence more finger pricking to get blood for my blood glucose machine. I can remember (not happily either), a diabetic nurse once accuse me of getting ‘obsessed’ with doing my blood sugars (she had read I suffered with OCD), this made me feel so exasperated.

A born perfectionist

I admit though I am a born perfectionist in every aspect of my life, so later on this did extend itself to me frequently checking my blood sugars. I reckon on average I did it about 6 to 7 times-a-day, but this was too much I was told because the blood sticks were expensive (NHS). I just wanted great control of my diabetes, the best care I could give myself.

Blood everywhere … clothes, bedding and even walls

Eventually technology improved enough to get it that it only took five seconds to do your blood sugars.  However, it still meant pricking my finger/s, which meant I would inadvertently get blood on my clothes, bedding, and even home walls (long story ha ha). Last week I put on a pair of new white cords and was petrified I would ruin them with blood from my fingers after doing a test.

Resistant to change

Maybe it is the OCD in me, but as a general principle, I am not a fan of change in life. Therefore, when my diabetic nurse three weeks ago urged me to try the Libre 2 Sensor, I sat there nodding my head but in truth I was shaking it inside. ‘It is connected to your phone’ I was told, ‘it is much better’ I was told, ‘you will love it’ I was told.

A family friend

A week later I happened to get talking to a family friend, who told me her husband uses a FreeStyle Libre 2 Sensor and that it is brilliant. I started to listen with an open mind … ish, and she showed me on her phone how she too keeps an eye on his glucose levels via the app. She echoed the nurse’s comments that it will give me greater control, and so after a short holiday I decided I was going to give it a try.

Technophobe proof

I can work computers, I get them, but admittedly I am somewhat of a technophobe. Therefore, I was a bit concerned I would not understand how this small disc attached to my arm, would then translate my glucose levels to my phone.  I feared it all seemed rather fanciful, but my worries were greatly misplaced.

First, I downloaded the app on my phone.  Second, I then opened the box and followed the instructions of how to connect the sensor, then I placed it on the back of my left upper arm to attach it to myself. Imagine your arm is like the inside of a library book and you want it stamped to take it out to read, because this is how it felt upon pressing the sensor into my arm (yes, it did sting for about 5 very short seconds afterwards).

I looked at my phone and it informed me how it should start working in 60 minutes, lasting for 14 days. Hey presto, it started working after the 60 mins had elapsed and I was up and running. How would I cope with it though pinned to my arm 24/7 I wondered?

One of the best things to have ever happened to me

I am just eight days into using the Libre 2 sensor, and I can honestly declare using it is one of the best things to have ever happened to me. All my worries about it again were severely misplaced. It is waterproof (hardly noticed it in the shower), it feels really secure on my arm, and it has already given me much better glucose control.

I am lucky I guess to be able to tell physically when my levels are too high (over 13.0) or too low (under 4.5), but just in case I was not because not every diabetic is, then a warning flashes-up on my phone. You can also set it to an alarm and vibration warnings too if so desired.

No more, I cannot be bothered to prick my finger to do my blood sugars, because all I have to do now is to simply look at my phone for the reading. No more mithering whether or not I will have enough test strips to last me throughout the month. And, no more getting blood everywhere because it means no finger pricking is needed.

This all equates to better glucose monitoring, which therefore leads to better control, which subsequently then leads to less long-term health complications regarding type 1 diabetes.

I am now proud to wear my Libre Sensor 2

I feel that thankful to be able to use the Libre Sensor 2, that I have found myself looking at it with a sort of sense of pride. I was at the gym the other day and wanted people to see it on my arm. No, I am not an extreme narcissist, but rather one that wants to tell people just how much my life has now changed for the better.

What have you got to lose, try it

When it was first mentioned about me using a Libre Sensor 2, as stated, I came at it as a non-compliant sceptic. After just 8 days I have without doubt come full circle. I cannot imagine my life without it now.

If you are currently still a finger pricking type 1 diabetic like I once was, then I urge you to ask your GP or diabetic nurse can you try the Freestyle Libre 2 Sensor. Embrace change my friends, embrace better diabetes care, and ultimately embrace a BETTER WAY OF LIFE!

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Sea, sunshine, seagulls and … Sneaton Castle, a triumphant OCD story in Whitby

Posted on September 21, 2024 by SCARFMAN

Last week I went on my first holiday in over thirty years. This was a huge achievement for me because I once suffered from severe contamination OCD. I broke from the shackles of this debilitating illness and proved to everybody (as well as myself), just how far I have come in my recovery journey.

In 2018, my recovery journey featured in a press article and at the end of this article the journalist wrote about me,

‘But the blogger and mental health advocate emphasises that his OCD story is far from over, with a trip to a Manchester United game and a stay in a hotel the next achievements to cross off his list.’

Last year I went to a Manchester United game twice (box ticked) but going to stay in an hotel or apartment, was always going to be next level stuff. When my big sister suggested back in March/April that we go to Whitby for a few days as a family, of course I immediately said yes. I did not want to disappoint my dear mum and sister, but the truth is I was very scared at this prospect.

How would I cope if I saw dodgy looking stains on the carpets in the apartment? How would I cope if I smelt sick in any of the rooms? How would I cope if I walked in dog poo whilst out on a walk, or a seagull did its business on me?

I should point out to those who do not know that a fear of standing in dog dirt and being sick or seeing or smelling it, are my two big issues. I do not pretend that I am completely cured from these fears, but I have come such a long way in terms of my recovery. 15-20 years ago, I became like a prisoner in my home such was my fear of going out and perhaps seeing or standing in them.

However, through a combination of CBT and taking mental health meds for the very first time in my life, gradually things started to improve. I did a series of graded exposures such as standing on public transport before sitting down in them. I can remember walking around a shopping precinct before plucking up enough courage to actually go into a shop. My point here I guess, is that I am still a bit scared of poo and sick, but nowhere near like I used to be.

So, I went to Whitby, a place I had never been to before (which I always find a bit scary OCD wise), with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. I knew I was going to have to be brave, I knew I was going to see things I did not like, and I knew I was going to have to sit with my anxiety and try to make the uncomfortable feel comfortable. Life is about challenges though and I truly wanted to embrace this one and stick another two fingers up at my severe OCD past.

Whitby (a seaside town and port in North Yorkshire, England) as a place, is absolutely lovely and I highly recommend going if you are not familiar with it. It has an old fashioned charm about it that is a bit unusual to find in this day and age. Indeed, if I could sum it up in one word, then ‘quaint’ is how I would best describe it.

From an OCD perspective, my mum and sister told me at the end of our break, just how proud of me they were for coping like I did. We had only been out of the car two seconds when I saw dog dirt on the pavement (Whitby is a dog lovers paradise). Nevertheless, whereas as two decades ago this would have triggered a massive OCD panic attack in me, this time I just calmly walked around it… take that OCD!

We had such a lovely time walking along the seafront, and that of neighbouring Scarborough. Every time we got out of the car, I was scared that something bad might happen regarding my OCD, but I did not let it stop me from joining in. Exposures to your fears really do work because by the end of the break, my walking outside anxiety, was so much less than when we had first arrived there.

There is much to do too. We went on a brilliant Whitby ghost walk, of course had fish and chips (me a halloumi burger and chips being a veggie), but without doubt the highlight for me was Sunday night when we went for a meal at nearby stunning Sneaton Castle.

As meals go, it ticked all the boxes. The food was amazing, the service exceptional, and the building and landscape are truly jaw dropping. It gets the mixture of history with the modern just right.  Trust me, if you ever go to Whitby, then you need to have a meal at Sneaton Castle.

During our break, numerous times I found myself lost in the moment enjoying myself. This is the best thing I can say about fighting and coping with my OCD. I am a great actor meaning I can cover up my anxieties when really, they are raging inside of me.  But I never once felt intense panic, and this is a testament to how far I have come in terms of my recovery.

How did I cope so well you may ask? Mind occupation is such an important coping strategy for me. I played music in the car in between walks, we talked lots in our walks which was a great distraction, and I messaged a really dear beloved friend of mine on WhatsApp a lot (giving her a running commentary of how it was going).

Our visit to Whitby had been a triumph and as I write this line, I have just welled-up. 20 years ago, I only went out when I had to, and I had stopped enjoying life. Yet here I am having just gone on a holiday and was sad to return home (like a lot of people feel).

Whitby will now forever hold a special place in my heart. It is the place where I had a great time, but more importantly, this is the place where I showed the world that I have took my OCD recovery to the next level.

Sea, sunshine, seagulls and … Sneaton Castle, I will definitely be seeing you all again soon, you bet real soon!

Posted in ANXIETY, FAMILY, FRIENDSHIP, mens health, MENTAL HEALTH, OCD, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Librarianist by Patrick deWitt – A review – 4/5.

Posted on August 17, 2024 by SCARFMAN

DeWitt, at his most poignant, brilliant best!

If you want a novel full of murders, laughter, or sex, then take a look elsewhere. However, if you want a read that is full of poignancy and gripping emotion, then The Librarianist by Patrick deWitt, is an absolute must read. DeWitt has yet again proved he is one of the greatest fiction writers of his generation.

As titles go, you might think The Librarianist, is not the most enticing of titles. It sounds a bit boring, how can such a bland sounding name make for such a riveting read? That would be missing the point though, because in the mundanity of life, deWitt has offered us something verging on the quite magical.

Just like his critically acclaimed and outstanding The Sisters Brothers, The Librarianist is also a bit tricky to categorise into a certain genre. With the former being a parody western, the latter is sort of a nostalgic melodrama. There is a yearning for the past which is enveloped with all consuming sadness.

Set in modern day Portland, Oregon, the main character is retired librarian Bob Comet. Bob on the surface lives a simple life, yet all this changes when on his daily walk, he stumbles across a confused elderly resident belonging to the local senior centre. This chance meeting is the catalyst for the rest of this emotive tale.

We learn about Bob’s introverted life from his childhood to the present day. The genius of deWitt is that this character’s life slowly but surely hooks you in. Bob is a good guy but whose life is tinged with sadness, of a love won and yet also one that is stolen away.

DeWitt is a storytelling master at work here. His use of the English language is quite simply a refreshing joy to behold. His unique slightly old fashioned style of writing and varied vocabulary, are what make him stand out and what make this novel a truly enjoyable experience. 

Like with all good novels, the plot builds and builds with The Librarianist. You want to know what happens next, yet this means our lovely experience meeting Bob will be over sooner. 

This novel made me smile, chuckle, be sad, and as the ending drew near, I found myself on the verge of tears … cathartic tears. 

DeWitt has the skill to make seemingly ordinary subject matter extraordinary. You will feel enriched for reading this novel and thankful that Bob Comet, however fleetingly, came into your life. 

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Knocking knees and perfecting the figure of 8 – My first ever driving lesson

Posted on June 22, 2024 by SCARFMAN

I woke up this morning all of a quiver. You see, after weeks and months of planning, I had my first ever driving lesson. How would I best sum up the experience? Well, I would say it was a classic case of … knocking knees and perfecting the figure of 8!!!

As a proud and perhaps now dated metrosexual (it is often used to refer to heterosexual men who are perceived to be effeminate rather than strictly adhering to stereotypical masculinity standards), I’ve never really been into cars. Lets just say I’ve never got aroused at hearing the LOUD revving of an engine. The only cars that have got me that way inclined are seeing BRIGHT PINK ones ha ha.

However, earlier this year I had something of a conversion regarding cars. It was a bit like when it suddenly dawned on me in my early 30s, just what a genius Bruce Springsteen is afterall (this after years of me thinking his music was a right bore). Yep, it just came to me in a flash, that learning to drive was going to be my next personal challenge.

It would give me more freedom both personally and professionally speaking. No more walking home in the blooming rain from work I thought. No more taxis or bus rides. I could end up going to see my best mate at Liverpool whenever I wanted. All of sudden, I was now envious of people that could drive.

Let’s not beat around the bush either, up to this point in my life I have never been able to afford driving lessons or face the prospect of buying a car. That was the easy bit though, now I had to put my desire into action.

First, I bought the latest edition of The Highway Code, and read it cover to cover (like the swot I’ve always been). Trying to find an instructor though was going to prove much harder than I thought.

I must have emailed and contacted via social media, about eight instructors/car schools all without success. The waiting lists were almost a year, or they didn’t cover my area, or didn’t do weekends. I got my provisional, but it looked like the wait for lessons would be very long.

Then, to my shock, about three weeks ago I got a text saying lessons were now available in my area and in an automatic car…GULP BUT BINGO, SCARY, SCARY BINGO!

So, today was my first lesson. I was a mixture of excited but scared as I waited for the instructor to pick me up … mainly scared though at the end hahahaha. Would it all go okay OCD wise I fretted? Would I like the instructor? Should I really be putting myself through this I pondered?

The answer, my friends, is a big YES! Yes, I was terribly nervous as we drove off, but it was too late to pull out now. Afterall, as my comedy hero Del Boy says, “HE WHO DARES” ha. 

The instructor was a great friendly guy, I instantly warmed to him. He even mentioned how nice I smelt, he was right I always do hahahaha, but it was still nice to hear. He also said I didn’t look 47, he was right again #modestAndy hahaha.  Anyway, let’s get down to the lesson.

As a complete novice, I started with the basics. The first 45 mins was all about me learning about the interior of the car and looking in my mirrors. I learnt all about blind spots … and then my knees started knocking, cos I was told I’d be driving the car soon (in a big car park).

It went really well. I’m pleased to report that I was soon checking my mirrors and blind spots without being told, doing big turns, and perfecting laps of a figure of 8 … just call me Nigel Mansell hahaha!

Let’s not tell lies though, I did make a few errors. I was amazed how sensitive the breaks and acceleration (gas) pedals were. We came to a shuddering halt a few times (eek), but I’d never even sat in the driver seat of a car before, let alone driven one. Modestly, I’d give myself a good 8/10 for effort … and I’ve always struggled being modest ha ha. Oh and I reached 11 mph for one fleeting moment, it felt like 111 mph though ha ha ha.

As the lesson wore on, I bonded more with the instructor. I told him about my prostate cancer scare battles in my 20’s. How my life had been blighted for many years with crippling OCD… but how now both were tonnes better. He was empathetic and very understanding, just as I’d hoped he would be.

The two hours flew by and before I knew it, I was walking through my home front door.  I was relieved it had gone so well. I instantly got on WhatsApp telling my nearest and dearest how it had all gone. I hate people saying, ‘I’m so proud of myself’ (bigheads I always think), BUT I SINCERELY WAS! 

In my OCD recovery journey, it was another box ticked for sure. In my life journey, it was another step forward. Knocking knees and perfecting the figure of 8, I WOULDN’T HAVE HAD IT ANY OTHER WAY! 

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I wish my dad could see me now

Posted on June 14, 2024 by SCARFMAN

I wish my late dad, Harold Lloyd, could see me now. I wish he could see the man I have become. I wish I had him back in my life right now, even for just one fleeting moment!

Father’s Day this year (2024) seems harder for me than usual if I am honest. I cannot exactly put my finger on why though. Could it be that I have just come out of a major depressive episode (post norovirus)? Or, could it just be that it feels like I have had this ‘special day’ rammed down my throat this year, it is probably a mixture of the two?

I have not been quite right since my norovirus disaster about a month ago. I feel more vulnerable than usual. I feel more sensitive than usual. My emotions feel so close to the surface.

My dad died in October 1998, aged just 66. He died of fluid on the lungs. I can still vividly remember how horrifically upsetting it all was (things like that never leave you).

Things have happened in my life since, that I wish he could have been there for. He never saw me finally graduate for example. He never saw me dramatically improve from my crippling OCD. He also never saw me become a copywriter.

I know well-meaning people say consoling stuff like, ‘he’d be so proud of you Andy’. I do take some comfort from this, but never have I needed to believe this more than I do right now. I do not know why I need his praise more than ever(which I am never going to get now), but I just do. 

I hope he can see the good guy I have become? I’m proudly moralistic, have not got a prejudiced bone in my body, and as you may have guessed ha ha ha … I really like the man I have become. I wish I was less sensitive, but at the same time I love being a ‘wear my heart on my sleeve’ type… JUST LIKE MY DAD!

I have the same sense of humour as my late dad. It is a bit like that of Del-boy’s from Only Fools and Horses. I miss our shared deep passion for sport. I can remember playing a round of golf with him once and nearly wetting myself with laughter (our golfing skills were that bad). However, most of all, I just miss having a dad.

Before writing this blog I had no set structure in my head (you may have already guessed this). I am just hurting right now, so I wanted to write something about him in his honour. 

I really, really hope you can see me now and that you are proud of me? I love you, I miss you, and I will always be proud to call you MY DAD!  

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Norovirus is not going to break me, it is going to make me

Posted on June 1, 2024 by SCARFMAN

Norovirus is not going to break me, it is going to make me! 

Two weeks ago for the first time in over 15 years, I was thinking some very dark thoughts again. I felt like my OCD recovery journey had collapsed all-around me and that I was a fraud. However, two weeks further on now and I am now feeling so much stronger, I want to live again!

For those of you who don’t know, I suffer from emetophobia (fear of sick and being sick).  My recovery journey has come a long way for the better, but catching norovirus two and a bit weeks ago really knocked me sideways. 

I gave in to my OCD obsessions which in turn made me feel like a recovery fraud. I am a loud voice on social media and in my work and personal life, about how better my OCD has become. Yet there I was washing carpets, throwing stuff away, it reminded me of how ill I once was.

Fast-forward a week, the norovirus was over but I started with severe depression.  I had not felt that depressed since I was 18. Suicide entered my head again out of nowhere and one night I almost started self-harming again. I don’t know what stopped me from doing the latter, but somehow I found the strength from somewhere to resist the urge.

Looking back, I am so grateful at people reaching out to me (unprompted) on my phone or on social media.  Out of nowhere, I had a sports journalist DM me on ‘X’(Twitter) writing such lovely kind words about me. A special mention must also go to an old school friend of mine who Whatsapped me about our mutual love of Manchester United.   

These two people with also the unrelenting love from my dear mum, kept me going when I almost checked out of life. As I write this blog right now, emotive tears fill my eyes at how happy I am once more. NEVER STOP BELIEVING THINGS CAN IMPROVE COS I’VE JUST PROVEN IT!

I know this sounds a bit daft, but I’m determined to try and turn this nightmare norovirus episode into a big positive. I have been overeating for years, eating what I want when I want and not caring about the consequences. I have been unhappy with my body shape for years but was not prepared to try and do anything about it.

It feels like I have had a lightbulb moment.  You know what I mean, it is like somebody has flicked a switch in me and I am super motivated now to lose weight by eating healthier. I HAVE HAD 10 SALADS OUT OF 14 DAYS, I have cut my meal portions down, and I have cut out all the rubbish I was eating before e.g. ice cream, chocolate bars, chocolate biscuits,. I feel better for it and have lost 4 pounds in weight already in just seven days.

I also have a new boss at work who is amazing.  For the past 2 weeks, I have started to look forward to going into work. I just feel such a happier person compared to the deeply upset one I was two weeks ago. 

My coping strategies were that I blogged about my mental torment (see my previous blog), I went to the gym twice, gardened and went to my sisters. I owe a debt of thanks to the musician Tom Walker, and his new song ‘Head Underwater’. It is a song about depression and mental health, and was just the right song at the right time for me.

This is my updated state of mind from how low I was feeling two weeks ago. I cannot believe how things have changed so quickly for the better.  It is early days I guess though and it is baby steps forwards still, but within them I have undoubtedly taken some giant ones too.

I am not naive though. I also realise that probably a good 10 days straight on my mental health meds since the norovirus, must have helped lift the gloom of my depression.

Extremely happy and thankful to be alive is how I feel right now. Love to you all and speak again soon, Andy! X  

Posted in ANXIETY, DEPRESSION, EMOTION, HEALTH, OCD | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

WHY ME?

Posted on May 24, 2024 by SCARFMAN

Why me?

I’m nervous about writing this blog. I guess I’m nervous because there’s so much I want to say to you all, but I’m not sure how. I’m lying, I do know how, but it’s been that long since I wrote my last blog (April 22, 2022), I don’t know where to start.

I want to write in my raw brilliant best.  I want to tell you what’s been happening in my life and why I stopped blogging. Things have changed in my life, but I’m still the same guy deep down. I’m still sensitive, I still wear my heart on my sleeve. It was either have a good cry or write a blog, and I’ve no more tears left to cry so I chose the latter.

Let’s get my backstory out of the way first. Type 1 diabetic aged 17yrs old, severe OCD since 14yrs old, chronic pelvic pain resulting from numerous prostate infections when I was 21 to 39yrs old(2 cancer scares), lymphoedema(swelling) in my legs since my late 30s, numerous surgeries…you get the point, life has been tough. I also lost my dad when I was 21, i’m now 47yrs old, still breaks my heart losing him.

I’m battle weary from life, but in the last few years things have changed for the better. I have improved massively from the OCD. My pelvic prostate pain has almost gone. I now work full-time as a Copywriter.  

I’m definitely a half glassful person these days, yet right now why do I feel like a good cry right now? I guess I feel lonely.  My mum is amazing and I would literally do anything for her. I also have a great support network of friends. But, I’m being honest, tonight as I write this I’m the loneliest I’ve felt in a long time. 

Work is tough, but it’s more than just that, I long for romanticism in my life.  Fed up of just putting a brave face on it, fed up of why me?

I guess this all stems from me getting my worst fear over a week ago, I contracted norovirus.  I had not been sick for 15yrs, and yet here I was in a nightmare where I was throwing-up every two hours.

I thought, here I am telling the world my OCD was tonnes better, but for 72hrs I felt like a fraud. I gave in to my obsessions, my rituals, it reminded me just how ill I’d been all those harrowing years ago. I didn’t cry, but I felt like it numerous times.  

This week my recovery from Norovirus is complete and I’ve started fighting giving in to my obsessive thoughts.  However, as I write this blog I just feel incredibly sad.  I don’t feel suicidal, but I’ve started on that train again…the one I STOPPED AND GOT OFF YEARS AGO! 

Maybe I’m just tired and need an early night? Maybe I just need a good cry to get my current anguish out of my system? Maybe, maybe, maybe….I just need to feel loved. Not in a family way, but in a romantic way

Thank you for reading this blog, I’ve made the decision I’m gonna blog more.  Goodnight friends, jokey Andy will be back soon.  Nevertheless, I’m posting this to prove my pain is real and that even those in recovery can still have bad days. 

Speak again soon, Andy. X    

ps Thank you Benson Boone, listening to you saved my life this week. 

Posted in ANXIETY, EMOTION, mens health, MENTAL HEALTH, OCD, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments