We must do everything we can.

This tragedy is possibly one of the most devastating and humbling events of my lifetime, along with the 2004 Boxing Day Tsunami and 9/11. It is only when the magnitude of these events are compared to one's relative life that we can really understand the impact that this has on their local and national lives.

Haiti will suffer an estimated 200,000 deaths from this earthquake. In my life that would be almost HALF the urban population of my home city, Belfast. 1.5 million people are homeless in Haiti;which would be the rest of the population of Northern Ireland that were still alive.

This really puts my issues into perspective. Please give anything you can to help.

http://www.dec.org.uk/donate_now/

Has it really been that long?

I knew it was a while since my last post, but I am shocked that it was the 15th of December.

Well I have been musing over my latest blog for quite sometime and for me it seems to be very significant turning point in my recovery. My thoughts have been asking why I am the way I am. Considering my background and rationale to figure out how to break my cycles of bad habits and behaviour.

My mother gave birth to my mortal being 29 years ago, and we all enter this world innocent, so what factors have created my personality. I firmly believe that your youth and upbringing attributes so much to the character  you have as an adult. This has given me food for thought over the festive period as everything at this time is so family orientated and being the polar opposite of this it can be a very lonely and frustrating time of year. This loneliness has created much reflection on a time before I was addicted to cigarettes, booze and overweight.

My parents were humble by nature and having raised 3 children who were almost all adults by the time I was born had gained vast experience in parenthood. Though not wealthy or middle class, they did everything for me and I never wanted for anything. I was given opportunities that my siblings weren't, possibly because they were financially independent by the time I hit my teens and I was almost growing up as an only child. My mother took retirement at 60 from her job at a school and then spent the next 3 years working 4 part time jobs to pay the fees of my public school education. My father was the victim of a stroke when I was just 11 and I, being the only male member of the family still at home had to take on all the male chores of the household while my mother took on the financial responsibilities. Never do I think I have ever thanked her for these opportunities. We had a tense relationship while I was growing up, interspersed with arguments and fall outs, we did everything we could for the house. My father and I also had a rocky relationship when I was a terrible teen. For a whole year we did not speak as I asked him to pick me up from a girlfriend's father's house on the other side of the city when I was 15. Apart from this time we were incredibly close and would often talk about things from politics and current affairs to my choice to leave home to go to university in England; something that caused numerous heated discussions with my mother.

My brothers and I had a distant relationship, even when I was living at home and they would be in the house 4 times a week. Understanding that they are 13 and 17 years older than me and I was a closeted youngster in the throes of being a well educated hedonistic teenager who like to work and play hard in the 90's; whereas their teenage years in the troubles of Belfast in the 70's and early 80's were a stark contrast. We were never close, our social outlooks were polar opposite, tastes in music and fashion, political stances, future ideals; the list is endless. I felt like the black sheep of the family because there was this ancient history amongst them that I could never be a part of so I carved my own history into our tree, without the bond they shared.

My sister, the person that I have always felt closest to in my family (apart from my father), was always more than just a sister too me. It was a frequent thought as I grew up that she may have been my mother as she was 21 years older. An illegitimate child that caused the break up of her engagement? I don't know if it was possible back in 1980 to alter birth certificates with the right kind of cash, but I have mine right here and according to it my mother and father are who they say they are. My sister treated me as her own though and always spoiled me rotten, taking me on days out, getting me little treats and whatnot. The fact that she could be my mother is not intangible, and at times she has seemed like more of a mother than my own.

This background detail should help you understand that I had a good childhood. I never went short, we always had manners and endured discipline if they ever fell short. But, was I a happy child? Looking back now I have Jekyll & Hyde memories from my youth, especially around Christmas.

When I was around 7 or 8, I distinctly remember a Christmas Eve that had a particular malevolence to it. So much so, that I wrote another letter to Father Christmas and pinned it to the outside of my bedroom door. It read:

 'Dear Father Christmas,

This year I don't want any fancy toys but for my daddy not to shout any more. I want us all to laugh for Christmas.'

I don't remember any specifics that lead to the writing of this note, but I do remember the next day when I was filled with excitement at the dinner table, my father grabbed hold of my arm to calm me down and said 'You don't want Santa to take away your present and have me shout?'. I was filled with fear of my father and couldn't bear the embarrassment of the whole family knowing about the letter (even though  they all did), so I spent the rest of Christmas Day in silence unless spoken to.

I also recall the day that he beat me black and blue because I lost the house keys and lied, again when I was about 8. My father had to tell the school why I was off school, an experience which I think humbled him. My mother and sister were in the next room and could hear my cries, yet never came to my aid. Did we all live in suspended terror of my father? I guess so.

He has never apologised for either of these incidents and neither would I expect him to.

These tales are not displayed here for sympathy or to conjure up images of a beast of a man that avoided like the plague, but rather to understand his nature and why he was that way. I now know in hindsight and my incredible ability to add 2 + 2 and come up with 4, my father was an alcoholic.

Now this is not in the self destructive, I'm going to drink my life away and live on the streets, for that is not what happens for the majority of alcoholics. Most function normally and life carries on regardless, unless they face the fact or are forced to change their habits.

A cousin came to visit one weekend from England, one that all of my family knew except me. My father being English, took our family on holidays in the 70's to see my aunts, uncles and grandparents. Something to this day that I have never done, odd considering I am the one who lives closest to them now. However I digress, this cousin came and he was like a beacon to me, strange accent, charming and very well dressed. I know what you are thinking but no he is not gay and I knew this at the time. My father and he regaled stories all night before I was sent to bed around 10pm. The next morning I was watching TV in the living room and I remember my mother making a comment about how my father and my cousin drank a 10 glass bottle (a Northern Irish term for a 70cl bottle) of whiskey in a shocked tone. My mind recorded this as to not be normal, yet not unheard of.

Other times I have noticed that my father consumed a bottle of spirits, a couple of bottles of wine or combinations of drinks; at barbecues, weddings, Christmas, as well as his weekly ritual on a Friday night. There was also his change in temperament at this time as well and on more than one occasion  was witness to acts of aggression. Did I see these as normal rites of being a man? Is it possible that somewhere in my childhood mind I stored the ideal 'You're not a man until you're a drinker'? I have no idea and I am not using it as an excuse. However it is something that I know I don't want to be a part of again through my own life.

I believe that if you have children or are considering having them you must think:

'Would I accept my behaviour, if my child was behaving in such a manner?'

On another note, I had my last cigarette on the 22nd of December and apart from a 1/2 a glass of champagne on New Year's Eve, I have not had a drink since Christmas Day. This is the beginning of a new dawn. 2010 and beyond will not be plagued by my shortcomings of addictions and bad behaviour.

Friendship

Friendship

One of the things you test severely when you're an alcoholic is relationships. I have tested one specifically to the limit recently. For that, I am publicly stating an apology, I will not go into details as I have emailed the reasons and apologies directly.

However, I am now on day 4 of Champix and the drug has affected me in numerous ways. My dreams are incredibly vivid (cutting up my housemate and deciding whether he was for garbage or recycling was a particular pain), my hunger knows no bounds; and even so much as a glass of wine has me on my back, though this may also be from the fact that I have had about 12 units in the past 3 weeks.     

I have deconstructed many of my friendships over the past few weeks and for that I am full of regret. I have neglected a friends birthday, deactivated my facebook account and reactivated it in the space of 5 days.

I hereby stand and say:

'I am a cunt'

The point of this blog is for me to document my misgivings and to help me understand me a little bit more, so a moment of honesty:

I am drunk. I probably have been since I left home. I want to give up drinking, but the temptation to call in and get a bottle of wine is so great it overpowers me.

I am in the middle of quitting smoking, so come the new year i should be smoke free, but the booze is a whole other subject. 

Even though the first thing I look for in the morning is my cigarettes, alcohol will be harder to dismiss. As previously mentioned all my friends are now former smokers, they all still drink, and quite heavily at that. I have cut down massively, but quitting is going to be incredibly hard. But I must. I have no rational when it comes to drinking. It is all or nothing and this post has taken 12 hours to write as I fell asleep because I was pissed. My friends are everything to me, as my family and I have little to do with each other. So I want to take this opportunity to say:

'Redemption comes to those who wait, forgiveness is the key.' Tom Petty.

I just hope that those friends who I have affected can find some room in their hearts to forgive me. Wait for the changes and witness them before they forgive. Because with no family and no friends I am nothing and may as well throw myself under the 1st tube.

Nothing left to lose.

Well, a week into this blog and I feel I have accomplished so much by putting it all out there. Cards on the table, I am an alcoholic smoker that wants to escape the prison of addiction to the freedom of a fit and healthy new me. Steps have been taken to quit smoking and to give up the booze, some I can talk about, others I am keeping quiet for now until I believe suitable progress has been made.

I have decided that I am throwing myself into work in the run up to Christmas to take my mind off things. The month of December is the busiest time of year in the bar and restaurant industry and seems like the perfect opportunity to take my mind off things. It might seem like the worst time for most people to consider giving up their vices as the norm is generally around the 1st of January and the whole New Years Resolution concept where civilisation believes a New Year = Clean Slate. Well I can't carry on another month. I want to stop now. I can no longer deal with the cluster bombs that follow every weekend. Presently, I'm still dealing with the cluster bombs from 2 weeks ago and this is sending me into a downward spiral. So I am dealing with it the only way I can trust myself to. Remove all social situations from my calendar for the next month and throw myself into work. Cancel all engagements and ignore all calls and messages. Take control back.

Part of this comes from the lack of trust in myself to not have a drink and subsequently, not be able to stop. Part of this comes from the people that I surround myself with. They all support me in my decision, however, there are few that I feel I could be around when they are getting beyond the point of control. They are not battling the same demons as me, yet; so they are free to carry on as they please. I cannot.

One day the balance will come again between work and my social life but for now I have to be all about work. It's easier to be self righteous behind the bar than it is propping it up. Ironically, work is the one place that I have no craving for alcohol. My mind is occupied and I barely have time to stop for a cigarette, let alone get drunk. Yes, even just the 1 drink will inevitably lead to me getting drunk. The challenge here will be after work.

'Can we have a staff drink while we wait for you?'

'Yeah OK', always thinking in the back of my mind that I'll finish and have 2 or 3 pints or down a bottle of wine.

This is a cycle that I will have to break, I will have to get into the habit of finishing and going straight away. Along with a hundred other places that I like to enjoy a drink: tubes, nightbuses, getting ready, in the cinema, alone, with friends, it goes on... Maybe the answer to this will come from tomorrow night's meeting.

Whose button is it anyway?

I have so many friends where different rules apply. Some you can speak of one thing and others you wouldn't dream of it. This is not a bad thing, it doesn't mean we are 2 faced, we just all have different personalities for different people. The issue arises when those boundaries become blurred, of which many have happened to me. I have lost count of the number of times I have had to apologise for my actions or something I have said to someone who has not necessarily been on that level. Some I can indulge in politically incorrect humour, some with political and current affairs, some with emotions, and others just for a bloody great time talking complete and utter shite. My friends cover all my bases, for that I love them. We have shared interests across the board and I may have heated debates with one, yet with another the same issue would cause a row a hundred men could join in.

So why is it that with certain friends we feel the need to court controversy by pushing their buttons? I am a bugger for this. I will wind people up to the point of pushing them to the edge of the cliff of our friendship, especially when I have had a drink, if not more so. My mother said that I would try the patience of a saint when I was a child, but when visiting relatives, I was as good as gold. So is there something intrinsically cantankerous within my nature? Why do I feel the need to drive some friends fucking crazy? In the past week I have managed to test a friendship and get it back through a lot of apologies, all of which were sincere; but, it was like I just couldn't resist myself indulging in what I deemed in my drunken brain as acceptable. Only in hindsight do I realise that what some friends think is funny, others most certainly will not. This is one of the many reasons I need to understand and control my alcoholism, to develop my boundaries. Why should it be one rule for the rich and another for the poor? Why can't I just be equally friendly and considerate to all of my friends? What is the reason that some will tolerate my, well, almost bullying. Surely in my head I am aware that after 14 years of schooling, most of which I was the victim of bullying, that this is not fucking acceptable. Slandering friends and calling them names is what happens in the playground, not in a social situation?

This is not derived from any circumstances in particular, just a reflection on what I have dealt out to some friends and seen them do to each other. I am certain that by the age of 21 we should have all grown up by now, especially as some are nearer the 30 mark. Maybe it is time we comprehend what fantastic friends we actually have and celebrate the wonderful things we do for each other instead of making little snide remarks in order to get a reaction or play to a crowd. I for one intend on making this change and looking out for my friends more, let's face it, I have ditched all the false sycophants and tyrants to be with them.

Rude Awakening...

Last night, after my return from the dinner party mentioned in my previous post, I was wide awake due to the coffee after the meal and the fact that there wasn't 30 units of alcohol searing through my veins. So I flipped open this very laptop and began shuffling though 4OD to see what I might watch to lull me off to sleep. I came across a feature length programme that I had previously missed on Channel 4. I settled into bed and watched the formidable Clapham Junction, I was fascinated by it's portrayal of the famous South London cruising ground (Clapham Common) for gay men, especially as I have been known to have frequented the area myself. Kevin Elyot has managed to set off alarm bells in my head with this fantastic piece of drama. The fictitious story revolves around the taboo of gay men and their desire for dangerous public sex, notably extracting many facts from the murder of Jody Dobrowski. This was a programme where I related to most things that occurred in my life as a gay man, drugs, drinking, dangerous sex in public places with anonymous men. Yet it startled me and brought a rude awakening.

Despite my friends' warnings of the dangers of what may happen on the Common, I would generally end up there intoxicated after a night out. Drunk and looking for some no strings fun. Often with more than one man, either at a time or in a night. It was cheap and easy. Not thinking of the consequences of being a headline on the tabloids which would no doubt distress not just my friends who know me so well, but my parents and siblings that would have to discover the sleazy underground sex life that I had adorned. That would have hit them like an articulated lorry, for even though they know that I am an out and proud gay man, we have not spoken in nearly 3 years. I can no longer run the risk of putting them through a trauma like that. Risking my own life is one thing but causing my beloved parents that much anguish is beyond repulsive.

What of the untimely death of the gay man? Russell T Davies tackled the issue in the groundbreaking 1999 television series Queer As Folk. In episode 3, Phil hooks up with a guy in a club and takes him home, they snort drugs on the premise of a sexual encounter. Phil, unfortunately dies from an overdose and the ripple effect can be seen in the following episode as his mother questions would it have happened if he was straight? Would he have taken some random back to his house and snorted inordinate amounts of narcotics before having sex? Well also from what I have seen in watching customers in bars and clubs, yes they do. But the fallout for me is when Stuart takes Vince to Phil's house just after his death to clear out the porn stash. There really are somethings a mother doesn't need to know about.

It is hard for any parent to lose a child, it is always supposed to happen the other way around. These risks that we take for the instant gratification, whether it be sexual or a drug high, increase the chance of this ideology being reversed. The same cannot be said for hate crimes. Aware that  Jody Dobrowski was a victim of such crime, and as mentioned in Clapham Junction that the character that represented him that 'no one deserves to be treated like that.' Men that put themselves in the position of public cruising grounds increase their risk of attack, even if they are only passing through. Though only last year a man was stabbed to death not far from the George & Dragon, a bar I have been known to drink in and visited 2 months after this attack wearing not much more than a smile in one of the most intoxicated states I have been in. Would I have acted or dressed differently if I had known what had happened? I doubt it, because at that time I was in a very different mindset as to now. It appears that this violence is everywhere, yet Olly was not putting himself at any significant risk, he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Thinking about it, I am certainly not going to be putting myself in any situations that will increase my risk of attack. There are plenty of places I can go to fulfill a sexual need without cruising in dangerous locations, the last thing I want is for the police to inform my parents, the tabloids to torment them or a friend to have to clear out my porn stash.

So is exorcising your demons in public a good thing?

So last night's dinner party was a success, great food, wonderful company and a very flappable host soon relaxed and began to enjoy her evening. My own triumph was drinking nothing but fruit juice all night, bar the quarter glass of sparkling mulled wine, which I deemed acceptable as it was only 4%ABV. Though the real food for thought came on my journey on my way home, especially as there was talk of incriminating friends through this blog at the party.

On my bus ride home I picked up a lazily discarded copy of London's Evening Standard newspaper, on the cover of which I found a very interesting article about Sally Bercow, the wife of the speaker of the House of Commons. She, like myself, has decided it is time to be frank about her wild child ways of her early 20's and clear the skeletons from her closet. Her decision to do so is to prevent any smear campaigns that may arise when she runs for a seat in the upcoming elections. Whereas mine is for no other reason than to self help by trying to understand my actions and to learn from them. I read the article with keen interest as to why this woman behaved in the way she did. She was very open and I found it fascinating that someone with the possibility of become such a public figure would be so honest. It was refreshing. She spoke of drinking 2 bottles of wine a day and numerous one night stands, requesting the be called 'romantic liaisons', only to correct herself by saying there was very little romance involved. This is something that spoke to me and something I will discuss in my next post.

This morning, I checked out the article again and forwarded it to some friends at work to read to offer them an insight as to why I am creating this blog. Yet I was slightly concerned to read the negative comments below the full article. Why is this woman being chased with torches when all she is trying to achieve is a little honesty about her past that some may deem as seedy if it were leaked during her campaign? Surely I am not that naive in thinking she wanted to inject a little truth and realism into her profile in order to strengthen her mandate as a politician? Honesty or for personal gain, I questioned my reasons for writing this blog. To be quite honest, I can admit that I am doing it for both. Honesty in myself and to be true to the future I want to lead; for personal gain in that it will make me a stronger, healthier person in both body and mind.

Understanding that the politics world is very different from my own, I can still empathise with Sally with her desire to lead an open and honest life. If I lived in her constituency she would get my vote.