Painful War

And there was me thinking I had a nice, relaxing christmas break to look forward to. All my uni work completed, exams done and for the first time in a year I would have a couple of weeks of no worry or problems.

I hadn’t had any time to rest in between placements as everyone else had at the start of the year, because I was frantically finding somewhere to live back then. Surely I’m entitled to a few weeks of respite now, with no one dying or no adverse events to ruin the wonderful spirit of christmas!

Alas, this was not to be. You can’t be surprised though!

So here I am, living out of a suitcase once again. I have my belongings strewn about the place at my parent’s house in boxes and bags, it’s quite a pathetic sight actually. It is times like this my toiletry fetish is a burden, as it takes up a lot of room and box space.

‘Oh god what’s he bloody done now’ I hear you ask. Well grab a pew and your mug of horlicks and sit back.

Being attacked by an alcoholic landlady was pretty much the nail in the coffin for my career as a lodger. If that wasn’t bad enough, having them them call the police and lie by saying I had attacked her would have been  enough for the sufficiently disastrous cliche that defines my life.

And yet the threats still come…

It seems my life is just an ongoing storm of madness. There is no normality. Half of you reading this have probably only known me since I met Dani.

Things were wonderful for me up until the age of 15. But after I was beaten the shit out of on the way home from my sister’s school play things seemed to take a turn for the worst. The scars that cover my body would certainly attest to that. Oh if those scars could talk…

 

If you are a bible basher you would explain my series of unfortunate events  by telling me it is god’s way of testing me. If you are an optimist, you will tell me that things are going to get better, that next year is my year (I heard this for 3 years running, until people finally cottoned on to the fact that my life isn’t a disney film). If you are generally like 99% of the people in my life; you will not see anything for what it really is, so you may just feel the need to give crappy advice that I have no interest in whatsoever.

If you are a realist then you will say, ‘Shit things happen. You’re not living in a mud hut, so fucking get on with it’ – I prefer this approach. 

I am supposed to be resuming university on Monday after a relaxing break away form the stress of work, legal claims and travel. Instead; I have been attacked by an alcoholic woman, physically threatened by her 19 stone partner, endured arduous communication  with the wonderful police staff over the christmas holiday at Poole police station and undergone an interview under caution.

Oh. And now I don’t fucking live anywhere. Again.

So I have a few days to find a flat, get settled and be ready for the start of a new module on Monday. Oh and one more thing I forgot to mention (like every other person on this planet it seems); I have a brain injury as well, the icing on top of my wonderfully sour cake of life.

Have any suggestions? The head of child nursing at my uni didn’t. Nor my disability mentor or tutor. Maybe I’ll ask Francis, my 25 year old stuffed dog that goes with me everywhere.

C’est La Vie. Shit things do happen, but at the end of it all I think there is still only one way to travel (which is forwards for those of you attending Southampton Solent uni).

Obviously I have to be careful what I write about. These evil people who wanted to ruin my career and life by falsely convicting me of something will no doubt find this blog and be scanning through it with a fine tooth comb.

It has been nearly 11 years of living like this. April 2012 was just another event to me. Granted; it certainly wasn’t a good day out, but it is no different to the hundreds of other bad days I’ve had. Although it probably ranks somewhere nearer 1st on the Mikey disaster leaderboard.

It’s times like this that I feel most alone. Once again, I am going through something so far fetched and ridiculous it is hard to discuss it with any sane human being. This is why I talk to Francis. He’s a great listener.

I’ve been knocked down again, like everyone does at some point in life. It’s time to get back up and keep moving forward, keep striving towards my goal of becoming a nurse and doing a good job with my daughter. I’m not lemon about what happened, I’m actually feel sorry for the people who tried to get me convicted. They must be so miserable and life must have been so cruel to them for them to want to act in this way.

Worse things happen to people everyday all over the world. I’m not saying that this is fun in any way, but it is important to put things in perspective. I will always have a bed to go to, I won’t be hungry and I have a daughter that I love more than anything or anyone in life.

I have been in crisis mode before, this isn’t anything  new to me. I focus on the good things I have and enjoy with intense concentration everyday; whether that be eating a meal, lifting weights at the gym, watching films or listening to my audiobooks.

Taking every second of enjoyment and pleasure from these small and  menial tasks can get me through anything. The smell of a certain fragrance or soap in the shower, losing yourself only for a few seconds in the enjoyment of the smell. The sensation of warm water over your body. I milk any little sensation that we as humans can experience and might take for advantage on a normal day, and before I know it: another day is done. 

I believe that making threats back, pumping my chest out and being aggressive doesn’t work. You have to adopt a sense of empathy and god forbid; even forgiveness, in order to win the long term battles of life. I don’t want to take over the world of drug dealing; I don’t want to become a gangster or have a moustache like Hitler, I want to be a children’s nurse.

I have embarked on this route which has sparked one hell of a war that holds so much pain I cannot put it into words.But surely that is what life is all about? Believing in something so much you would happily push yourself to your personal boundaries and limits to achieve the result you want?

And the reason I know I’ll make a good nurse is because someone up there is putting a lot of effort into making sure it doesn’t fucking happen. 

 

I’ll die trying to get to my goal and other than death,  I won’t let any excuse prevail as to why I cannot eventually achieve it.

 

lion goals

 

 

 

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