What’s happened recently? Well, quite a bit …
It was my birthday recently: the big thirty-ten (okay, 40) which
meant, amongst other things, that I was not 39 any longer. This may
seem blatantly obvious to most of you; but it was a major step in my
life. Much of what follows may sounds completely ridiculous to the
uninitiated (i.e. anyone who isn’t me) but I hope that I have your
forbearance on this matter. Here goes -
Based on family history, I fully expect to live to the age of 78,
which is twice 39. Most of the first 30-odd years were pretty
difficult, so I had set myself the task of making the second half of
my life rather better than the first. A noble endeavour. To achieve
this, I had to clear a lot of clutter (some flammable, some downright
volatile or explosive) from the contents of my head. Duck and cover.
My last year’s worth of psychotherapy had finally come to an end and I
had fully expected the world to take renewed vengeance upon me for
having been away for so long, avoiding the regular ritual humiliations
and mental punishment beatings (mostly self-inflicted) that have
typified and defined my life so far. Feeling that the only safety net
that remained had been cruelly ripped away by an uncaring and
positively antipathetic (or actively and deliberately vindictive)
State, I prepared for the worst, as was only to be expected.
Obviously the world had something better to do than to persecute me,
as nothing dreadful happened. That, or I had become better at coping
with the outside and with myself; which is what I believe to be the
desired outcome of years of therapy.
Shortly after this, I heard from my solicitor that the local authority
against whom I had taken out legal action for failure of duty of care
were offering to settle “out of court” and that it was time to start
negotiating. The sums that I saw as a reasonable exchange for having
helped mess up the first half of my life rapidly dwindled as more and
more “mitigating circumstances” – schizophrenic mother, hyperactivity,
social isolation, brain damage, my supposed consent to underage sex,
length of time since the event and a whole host of other matters –
chipped away at the degree of responsibility accepted by said
authority until there was a rather small amount left for which they
were willing to accept some vicarious liability.
Having already realised that no particular amount could either make up
for the hurt suffered or “unbake the cake”, let alone make up for
losses of any sort, I readied myself to accept a mostly moral victory
with good grace.
As I said to my solicitor, “… I really do appreciate all the time and
work that you put in; the fact that someone ‘outside’ believed in what
I was saying was so important and has helped immensely with coming to
terms with my past and setting about my present and future. The
financial settlement is obviously helpful; similarly, although it
cannot undo the wrongs committed, it goes some way to helping me get
back onto my intended path.”
“Getting back onto my intended path” is the key here. My next
frustrating annoyance was the inability of the colleges of the
universities of London and elsewhere to collectively find their
backsides with any number of hands (a cow’s arse, banjo and the
vicar’s elbow spring to mind; but “hey – I digress!”)
The next stage was to study for a Master’s degree in e-Commerce,
although the option of “doing vile things to hide-bound Victorian
academic structures” has an appeal to me all of its own. Due to some
of the problems faced earlier, my academic record is – quite
understandably – somewhat fractured and so I was relying on my
(slightly shaky) professional experience as a substitute for the
Batchelor’s degree usually considered a prerequisite for such a course
of study. Over a quarter century of working in and studying I.T. must
count for something, even if only as it is longer than most students
have been alive. Living and coping with BPD during all that time
makes the achievement all the more notable, in my humble estimation.
These matters have been considered by the admissions administrators
and selectors of the august bodies approached. I checked my online
applications and email inbox several times an hour and wondered why they
each were “still considering” when it is obvious to “any fule” that
they had, in me, the best conceivable candidate that anyone could
wish for, just waiting for my moment of recognition. Patience, Ian,
patience, your time will come. But not, it would seem boring myself
rigid re-learning everything. Something else must give.
Meanwhile, I set about buying a boat with my hard-earned
compensation. This involved a lot of traipsing along towpaths – a
favourite habit of old; that’s another story for another time –
checking for rust, buoyancy, balance and basic comforts: all at low
cost – the parallels are frightening! – in order to continue and
further my interests in new modes and directions.
This, I believe, is the end for which we all must search; I have
lately come to another realisation: that I must also take
responsibility. For the boat, myself, my future and all the actions
of the aforesaid. Some of these can be covered by marine insurance;
the rest is down to me.
“Civil disobedience, insurrection, plagues of frogs, murrain,
inclement weather, acts of war, and those of a mostly indifferent
Deity including the ‘G*d as you may understand him’ concept” (thanks,
AA!) take up far too much of my time, interests and efforts. Also,
they are beyond my power and no amount of “magical thinking”* will
ever change that. It is time to concentrate on the things practical
and at hand, rather than just “Things”.
I still have a book to write, all about falling between the cracks of
life, society and the provisions made for care of the vulnerable;
mostly autobiographical, I hasten to add.
No promises, as am painfully aware of my failings in the department,
but I might post occasional snippets of progress in this and any other
matters.
Time to go. This is my considered ramble for the time being. Does
any one else have anything to add? It need not be about me – I can
live with that; in fact, I would prefer it if it was about you, how
you are coping, challenges faced and especially those overcome.
Anything. Any thing. Any “Thing”.
News, gossip (usual rules apply), jokes, poems, thoughts, rants,
raves, questions, answers and absolutely anything else that comes to
mind that has even the very slightest association with the all-
pervasive disorder that binds us together and drives us apart – all
these and more are welcome.
Onwards and onwards and onwards.
CSB
PS. As you might notice, there were a few “no sh!t Sherlock” moments
during the writing of this; thanks for helping them happen.
PPS. Coming soon: “Fun with tarpaulin, or ‘How I put my bondage
experiences to good use in securing a narrowboat’.”
PPPS. Where does the fullstop go with nested quotation marks?
PPPPS. Also visited an infrequent art exhibition this evening;
my wife’s work is soon to be displayed there and - Heaven
forfend! - they might even take on some of mine. More as it
happens, or thereabouts.
PQRS: Still no offers for a flat with a garden - all offers considered - please see http://find.gardenlend.co.uk & then pootle down to “House (and Garden) Swap”
