Digging Holes In Space. - December 2001
marches slowly by and the tremors of depression have now become
a full blown earthquake, size 8 on the Richter scale.
As I write this, at the end of December, 2001, I find
myself sat alone in a flat in Leven, Scotland, alone, cold, unemployed
and cynical - oh and did I mention depressed.
Time marches on and I have allowed myself to become
the victim of circumstance.
My employers had decided that the dot com boom was not going to
be as significant as was initially envisaged and, as a result, decided
that the regional portals were overstaffed.
Redundancies followed and I accepted that my future with them was
something I could live without, I had been off work due to my depression
for almost a year anyway so I guess the situation just served to
add a full stop to this particular period of my life.
As things were it was a minor event in a particularly
troubled time anyway and the lifting of responsibility came as something
of a relief.
Things inside my head had taken a turn for the worse!
Here I was in Leven with a head full of self pity and
no real responsibilities.
Add a bit of booze and you have the recipe for self destruction.
24 hour self imposed solitary confinement - sorry I
did go for a newspaper every day out of habit.
If I told you why a newspaper was so important to me you would smile,
but I will simply say that the crossword is a good kick start for
the brain in the morning.
I ramble, please forgive me!
At times of deep mental stress I can erupt in an outpouring
of venom and self-loathing and on one of the evenings in Leven an
occasion arose that had rather bizarre repercussions.
Read about it HERE!
I had also arranged a medical appointment for early
December and drove back down to Huddersfield to fulfil my obligations.
My wife accompanied me to the doctors at my request as I wanted
the medic to understand what a misery my life was, and for those
around me, from a third-person point of view.
At the end of the consultation the doctor gave me three
options and these were;
Admit myself voluntarily to the local psychiatric hospital,
Be sectioned by the doctor under the Mental Health Act and
be taken to the local hospital by the police, or
Be taken to the hospital by the police and then get sectioned
by the hospital.
Good choices huh? What would you have done? I chose the first option
and found myself at the local psychiatric hospital.
Oh they tried their hardest to get me to stay as an in-patient!
Tried and tried, chipping away at my resolve.
But the bottom line was that residency was not an option.
I mean, have you seen the type of manic psycho's that inhabit psychiatric
Goodness me, even my depressive side would become depressed if I
was ever to sat there!
Even as I waited for the duty shrink to appear two inmates decided
to have a physical disagreement and the plain-clothed nurses trebled
This was not the place for a depressed person.
I was released and warned to stay with someone who was capable
of monitoring my actions. An appointment was made for me to see
my consultant the following week (yes, week).
I returned to Scotland and engrossed myself with my work.