Hi once more. All the old time N.A idiots hate me. What the fuck do they know? Their snobby attitude is hated by me too. Had a six month clean time birthday today so that some young people can join in and be encouraged. I did a real bad job with my sharing, as per normal. That is sweet. These old time fuckfaces should really come and talk to me one on one. Or maybe they should come to a ward meeting. Trouble is, they would take it over and fuck with it. At the moment the ward meetings work exceedingly well as is for the people in the ward. FLUID is the best term.
Some people had some really nice things to say about me. They were the ones whom have taken time to know me. My sharing included the lines “If I have not really fucken offended every one in this room yet, KEEP COMING BACK, IT WILL WORK IF I WORK AT IT” and “there is no THE in the serenity prayer where it says GRANT ME THE SERENITY TO ACCEPT THE THINGS I CANNOT CHANGE, COURAGE TO CHANGE THE THINGS I CAN AND *** WISDOM TO KNOW THE DIFFERENCE. You are changing the meaning of the prayer by adding “THE” between AND and WISDOM.”
At the end of the meeting about two thirds of the room didn’t say “THE”, some did on purpose. Some said my name instead of “THE”. Hahahahahahaha. Cheeky fuckers.
Recently I got involved with helping out the ADHD girl. I have always been around for new people and helping them out as they give up drugs.I have been dealing with a few people with suicidal thoughts of the strong variety over the last few days.
If Sir John Kirwin was handing out medals to volunteer workers, I should get one. Really. You wouldn’t believe how good I just was with someone over the last few days.
What is confusing is why there are three of them at once (not counting the ADHD girl, whom has dumped me, remember !!!!!)
Here is a message I posted this morning on a car web-site. The car web-site is where I post the story of building my cars. We do not talk about drugs, addiction, suicide or any other mental health topic there. We are blokes. Blokes with cars. Blokes with highly modified large engined Fords. We talk in kilowatts, displacements, compression ratios, fuel mixes, pin outs, paint codes, diff and gearbox ratios, tyre pressures………… We DO NOT, ever, never, talk about feelings. We just give idiots shit until they piss off to another site. That’s the only emotion ever displayed.
Until about three days ago.
Well, six months ago I posted about my sister dying. Sometimes we do births, deaths, marriage. I recently did ADHD as part of a story about why I am always being arrested.
And then the loudest, most abusive guy on the site (whom is a big softy when you meet him… He lives four hours away across the Tasman sea in Australia, so meeting these guys was pretty special in itself….) posted a long post about the state of his mental health and that he felt like hanging himself a lot lately. His girlfriend had saved him.
I replied with this….
Hey little man… Here’s a thing for you…. I have been going through all sorts of shit recently too. But, in the context of life, you would expect that from me. I am a genuine fuck up. All this does is allow me to emphasis greatly with your situation, having been through it ten or twenty times in less than a decade of Ford ownership.
We all have our health issues, and these limit our ability to lead a full life as we see it. Some more than others. I am really lucky at being unlucky. I practise management strategies. Not very well a lot of the time. Last week I was riding down a hill on my mountain bike, in the wet, with no front brakes (cable disk brake had snapped cable), drinking a coffee with my left hand and texting with my right hand. Of course I had my headphones blaring out some old crap punk music at the time so didn’t hear the truck coming. “Oh shit”… I didn’t want to spill my coffee, so used my right hand to go for a brake. “Oh shit”, no front brake… I still didn’t want to spill my coffee so refused to ditch it and use the brake with the left hand… How on earth I swerved around a truck and down a side street whilst doing around 40km/h on a bike in the wet with no brakes with only a second to dump my cellphone and grab the handlebars… Well… Christ knows. Sometimes luck is on my side.
What is not so lucky is putting myself in those situations in the first place.
They are a daily occurrence. I am truly a class a fuckwit.
Now, back to the MAD JEW PRICK. You’re fucken good guy underneath that stupid Australian accent. All other Aussies are fucked, but you’re okay.
It may be cheaper to buy me a plane fare and chain my ankle to your Maverick wheels until things you need doing are done to your standard than hire a psychiatrist.
But, here’s something for you… Depression is often caused and cross diagnosed with anxiety. Chances are a lot of people on here with a lot of drive, ideas and enthusiasm for their crazy schemes and mad builds have some form of personality disorder. No shit. I kid you not. Does BENJ’s car make sense to 99% of the world? I bet you it fucken doesn’t. But to select people, it is fucken awesome. People who do shit like this are special.
And running at full speed all the time means having burnout and downtime.
Instead of saying “I am going to tidy all my car parts and give Butler back some of his garage and back yard” you should say something more like “I am going to spend half an hour at 10am sorting out stuff at Butlers house….”
You see, YOU WOULD FAIL AT TIDYING ALL THE CAR PARTS FROM BUTLERS.
BUT YOU WOULD NOT FAIL AT TIDYING BUTLERS FOR HALF AN HOUR AT TEN IN THE MORNING.
Therefore you are totally successful in your goal. Sometimes you may even spend an hour or two sorting out Butlers back yard.
We all feel useless sometimes… Dude, the human body and mind are complicated things. But like the most simplistic machine in the world (let’s say a single OHC I6 with a dizzy) it still needs a rest, an oil change, and enough CCA in the battery to turn the starter.
Just take it easy on yourself mate. I have had people very close to me commit suicide, stab their own children… All sorts of crap. How I am alive just amazes me. The very simple fact I am alive astounds me enough that I cannot now contemplate others feeling bad enough to do similar.
I have been incredibly lucky. I should not be here. Seriously should not be here.
Yet I am.
And if I am, then you fucken deserve to be here more than me.
(If anyone calls this a rant, I will fly over, remove their hat with my balls and piss on their bald spots)
I know, it is nothing really special. But it has these responses in twelve hours, plus more in private mail.
- This man speaks the truth
- jeeezz … ya canna be a rare bastaard! …. BUT ya hit the nail on that head
- You sir are an absolute legend…I take my hat off to you, But don’t piss on my head what ever you do because there is no bald spot.
This goes to show that guys, even oil drinking, methanol injecting, tyre smoke inhaling guys need a proper forum for sorting shit in their heads.
This is where the peer lead recovery model can by introduced via sly methods. A group of guys whom sit down for an hour a week and share their lives for five minutes.
Probably not original. But definitely required.