For the last two and a bit years I’ve been writing my tuppence-worth on here about the big, little and frivolous issues of the day. I’ve spoken about issues I’ve dealt with personally and shared the opinions I want to express on many subjects. What I write is not flawless or clever, it doesn’t fill a gap in society it’s just another voice online. But it’s my voice and here’s who I am. It’s strange to do an “All about me” in your thousandth post but then I’m not what you would call…normal.
It was 1978 and alone in the world was a small boy with big brown eyes – the same ones that he’d share with his daughter many years later. He needed a family and fortunately for him a couple wanted to make him their own. Taken in and adopted before he was one, he found love and protection in a working class family in Bucksburn. Even though he was not connected to the couple biologically the bond was strong and while not an outwardly affectionate pair they cared for and brought up this youngster as their own.
Before long a sister joined the family – the boy did question if it was time to return her after around an hour of her company, but thankfully the couple knew better. Whilst not always friends in their younger years they grew up to have a strong and supportive relationship.
The boy wasn’t normal and from an early age questions were raised about his behaviour, attitude and abilities. Spoken about by the adults as being “clever” there was something different about him. Isolating himself from those around him one minute and singing and dancing and capering the next – these were all the tell-tale signs that years later would lead to a diagnosis of Bi-polar disorder. How much of that was there at a young age is a moot point but in memories he knows that there must be links to actions and behaviour right from nursery onwards.
Music opened his eyes and with it came a way for him to connect with people in a way that he hadn’t been able to do himself. Learning the violin opened up conversations and opportunities to meet new people and channel all the energy he had. Not being a fashionable or “sexy” instrument it was with older members of the family he found himself aligned with. A shared love of Scottish music with his paternal Granda and nights of music with friends were highlighted memories.
But around all this the “clever” label was becoming a burden and something to rebel against. Add in the mood swings and erratic behaviour then school was not that happy a place or memory for him. He never really fitted in with anyone apart from the other social outcasts with a love for music. We came together and became a little support network and survived school because of each other. And with other musicians in bands and orchestras he started to find his feet more and more. A feeling of acceptance was his amongst his peers.
Thrown to University to do a course on the Careers’ advisor’s theory that “Whatever you want to do, you’ll need a degree” English was the short straw presented – a move that sent him on the path to Teaching even though he never really wanted to go that route. After a few other jobs it was the destination. More friends were made along the way through work provided him with mates he’d have for life.
During University he met Jill. Suddenly all the concerns and questions he had in his head were starting to be answered and sorted. He found someone who “got” him. Seventeen years later the relationship is as strong as ever and with two children and one on the way he is comfortable in his own skin at last. That’s down to her. If it weren’t for the love, care, concern and honesty he doubts that he would have made it this far. Soul mate is an over-used phrase but he had truly lucked out finding his.
He of course is me. And looking at him in the third person is how many memories are formed for me – not as part of the action, but instead watching it in much the same way as I have written this blog. I’ve massive gaps in my memories and I think the depressive and hyper phases I go through block the chance of solidifying them in my memory banks. Things I should remember and everyone else talks of are largely missing for me.
So while I could throw in the story about how I survived cancer; name drop Billy Connolly, Robin Williams and Richard Curtis; the joy of my kids; my political opinions; the love of stand up; and my slight obsession with David Tennant – there’s no need. A quick look through the previous nine hundred and ninety-nine posts will tell you all that.
I’ll always have something to say because this blog is my way of de-cluttering my brain. I’ve caused myself problems with it when I have been ill and putting your thoughts down when struggling mentally is not the wisest thing – but it’s honest and it’s me. I can’t be any other way. It’s started conversations with friends and colleagues about things I never would have thought of. It’s had me being retweeted by some big names too.
The thing I want most from this blog though is somewhere to store my daft ideas and thoughts. I need somewhere that I can let rip in, be silly in, be judgemental in. It’s cathartic and it helps me.
Thanks for continuing to read the words of a madman and for the comments and emails sharing your stories too. I appreciate you take the time to look at my posts, so thanks.
Here’s to the next thousand.