Some Time Later…

I’m always quiet in the early months of the year, it seems. It doesn’t help that I try and bury myself in the work that I do, or just end up curling up in my flat on the weeks that I have off. I’m terrible for taking regular holiday, so I end up with almost a month of time for me to take and I end up taking it all off before April hits. It also means that my creativity takes a backseat as well.

This year seems particularly bad when it comes to this, but this is the first winter that I have been off my antidepressants. Couple that with not being able to enjoy my motorcycle thanks to the temperatures, I get very unenthusiastic with a lot of things. I think my friends are picking up on that but they haven’t said anything. The weather is warming up, and I hope that since I’m not working Sundays again for a bit that I will be able to go out and just ride again. I use my motorcycle as a way to block out everything else in the world and focus on the road; it was therapeutic and helped me. It wouldn’t hurt to gain some of my confidence back, either.

Cyrus has been helping, with us delving into Conan: Exiles on our private server. Redh is probably going to tweak some of the XP requirements today if there’s no objections. For me, it means that levelling will be a steady pace even though I’m about halfway through the levels now. Having bought ARK through Humble Monthly, but never really able to sit down and enjoy it because I didn’t ‘get’ it, Conan was the first in a new genre to me (aside from Minecraft), and playing it on the new PC is awesome. Most of the games that I was playing before it were optimised for less powerful specs as well as top-end machines so I didn’t really see the benefit, like Warframe or Rocket League. But Conan puts my PC through it’s paces and the end result is gorgeous. It, along with DOOM, has sold me on the fact that I made the right decision in getting a high-end machine. I also put the SSD from my old machine into the new one to give it more space for games. I remember when 250MB was enough, let alone 250GB!

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Another Year in The Can.

2016 hasn’t been the easiest year of my life, I’ll admit that much outright. There is no ‘literally shaking’ talk or anything about politics in that statement; there’s been a lot of change in my life this year. Some of it forced on me, some of it chosen by me. I’ll let each reader be the judge of which falls into which category. I have become more grounded in my life, and my circle of friends has actually gotten bigger. There’s less worrying about the ties with a friend and more worrying about the actual friend, which is honestly refreshing.

I moved away from Eastwood this year, in a move that frankly wasn’t exactly planned the way it happened. Am I glad I did it? Yes. There’s been trials and tribulations in regards to both the property and my next door neighbour but I’ve got those under control. I moved into a larger flat that must have twice the floor space as the one before did, and within two weeks someone attempted to steal my motorcycle. Had it not been chained up I would have been without a ride to work probably until now. They did manage to wreck my steering lock, but with an alarm attached now it’s probably more secure now than before.

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Where am I?

…I’m right here!

I’ve been quiet on the blog front for a couple of reasons. First, is that I’m having to buckle down hard on the job. Doing nearly fifty hours a week in five days is not a pretty thought, nor is what it does to me a pretty sight. The main issue that has stopped me being creative lies about fifteen paces from where I sit and type now; my neighbours.

I’ve been dealing with a noise issue since the 9th of October, and things are finally starting to settle back down. I don’t know who is doing it, but I know what the source of the sound is and hearing it for (on some days) fifteen hours makes it a problem. It’s that really bad, chavvy music that just makes me want to punch the wall. If it was melodic dubstep, or metal, or anything that doesn’t feel like techno or garage then I wouldn’t be so aggravated by it. By feel, by the way, I mean feel the bass throughout my flat to the other damn side of it. It really got me down, and it’s really easy to get me to that place now that the days are getting shorter.

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#WorldMentalHealthDay

(I fully expect a lot of people to be rather venomous after reading this. Go ahead; I have a thick skin.)

It should be a surprise to no-one (read: a previous entry) that I suffer with mental health problems; more specifically depression, anxiety and SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder, or winter depression). I’m glad I can talk about it to people who are in my life, and those that can talk about their coping techniques to get through the day. I’m far from unique in my issues, but once again I find myself at the point where I just look at the world and get a little bit angrier at it.

World Mental Health Day is supposed to be a day when we bring mental health to the forefront of the public mind, talking about the stigmas surrounding it and the ways those that suffer with mental issues can get treatment. It’s supposed to be something that just sits in the back of all our minds after we see it, and  for those that are undiagnosed to possibly use it as a crutch to get over the mogul of suffering in silence and actually ask for help. But what I don’t like is seeing everyone trying to celebrate mental health issues, that they’re completely normal to have. Mental disorders are not normal. Mental disorders are anomalies that, were we an animal species, would be taken care of by Darwinism.

What I’m specifically talking about here is the tumblr-centred SJWsphere where everyone is a special snowflake just because they diagnosed themselves on WebMD, or are going to a therapist without having been referred there by a medical professional. It honestly infuriates me, because I know several people who have been diagnosed and are awaiting treatment because their local health services can’t deal with the influx of people who are waiting (I personally had to wait three months just to talk to someone after my evaluation, without being triaged based on severity). In fact what they’re really missing is a solid upbringing and a moral centre that has any gravitational pull beyond the self-centred ‘me too!’ culture that has enveloped some of my generation, some of the generations prior, and most of the generations henceforth. The ones that truly need help are the quiet ones, because in the big picture they’ve made themselves quiet to make sure that nobody will miss them, or they are too incapacitated from said mental health issue to speak up. It is their signals that are lost in that white noise of ignorance and narcissism.

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