Europe - The Final Climbdown?

David Cameron isn't a radical, yet his announcement that he wouldn't have a referendum on the Lisbon Treaty has been greeted with surprise in some quarters. The thing is, it isn't new. Cameron has been saying this for a long time now. It's the guaranteed button pusher on the Euro sceptic wing of his party and, for that reason, it is a bit radical - at least for him. This week's admission that there was no point in having a referendum on Europe does seem to be the end of the argument on the Lisbon Treaty.

Yet, like Banquo's ghost, the spectre of discontent looms deep over the Conservative Party. Europe has split the party down the middle before, and it looks like it will do so again. David Cameron's new European Policy idea seems designed to appease the anti-European wing by vigorously engaging with Europe to negotiate what he can to get sovereignty back. I'm sure that if he actually goes into Europe and tries this tactic he will be greeted by deserved hoots of derision. The fact is this, we are one of 32 who all have to agree on any fundamental changes to the constitution and that just ain't going to happen. His stance seems impotent at best and the actions of a man who, upon discovering the horse has bolted, closes the door and shuts himself inside the stable for a good old fashioned sulk. Perhaps it's time to do something really radical...

Britain's attitude to Europe is frankly crazy. A total of 51 MEPs elected from the UK are from parties either sceptical of, or outright opposed, to the EU in its present state. It's a bit like sending a team of people who don't like football to go and play in the World Cup next summer. Yet these anti-EU people go there and participate. Surely that is the ultimate hypocrisy. For a generation we've suffered a media happy to pander to the Euro sceptic cacophony. The result is that we've got nowhere. We have closer ties with Europe and the only thing Margaret Thatcher achieved was a rebate which was got at the price of John Major's humiliation as the rest of Europe exacted retribution at her utter inflexibility. The Labour leaders have at least tried something more positive but have done so with the attitude of a major world player with a vastly over exaggerated ego.

The truth is Europe is more of a benefit than a curse. The foaming at the mouth over immigration we have in this country totally forgets that this is a European problem. We face a far lesser issue on this issue than France and Italy who are constantly seeing people sailing across from North Africa in search of a better life in Europe. This is something where David Cameron's idea of making a law just for Britain is almost counter productive. We need to co-ordinate our approach to this problem. We are happy to do this when it comes to cross border extraditions, why not do this with migration issues?

The biggest worry about the Conservative/UKIP/BNP stance (yes, the BNP are rabidly anti-European) is over our economic ties. The right seem to believe that the EU will be happy for us to have independence. The sceptics want us to just walk away from the table altogether. The truth is stark, we'd be a Third World in less than a decade. If I was part of the EU and anyone tried to pull that stunt I'd just slap huge tariffs on imports and exports, remove free trade rights and sit back and watch them flounder. That's a reality. Cameron's approach to being tough could cost us jobs and economic security. We're part of a strong trading bloc and we can't survive without it.

Being a voice of dissent won't win any favours with the major powers within the Union. His ill sighted move away from the centre right alliance to form his own group made up of minor players and radicals is childish and petulant. It serves only to risk his credibility. The comments of the French Minister Pierre Lellouche that this would "castrate" Britain may have been silenced but they are probably the views of many in European politics. To constantly take a negative approach will be counter productive to achieving anything. So let's propose something truly radical.

Let's do it in 3 stages:

• Actively participate in European debates from the perspective of a positive outcome for everyone in Europe, working together to produce a result which benefits us all.

• Report all the benefits of our membership, For example, the EU Working Time Directive significantly improved the working lives of thousands of people as they no longer had to work excessive hours. There are two sides to every story.

• Stop looking at Europe as a threat to our sovereignty. See the benefits of being part of a major player on the world stage and use this to influence events globally. Speaking with one voice is not a disadvantage if you use your influence to ensure it has included your words.

We're actively involved in changing hearts and minds in Afghanistan, why not do something closer to home.

I for one am pretty proud to be a European.

The Public Life Of A Militant Homosexual

I remember, a few years ago turning round to some friends and explaining that I was really getting too old to head out onto the streets and protest. Yet a number of events have made me think again about this. Tomorrow I will join people in Trafalgar Square to light a candle and stand silently to register my solidarity with victims of homophobia in an event I never thought I'd see again - some on the streets gay rights activism.

Since the changes in laws of the past decade, there has been a shift in tone by a great number of voices in the gay community. Having gained some significant victories in the drive for equality a significant number of people seemed to feel that the battle was won. We could put away our banners and leave all the angry stuff to Peter Tatchell. It was all a bit too militant for those stuffing themselves full of cake and champagne at whoever's civil partnership ceremony they were attending that weekend. Taking to the streets has never been something the majority of people want to do, and gays and lesbians are no exception. Especially when can walk through Old Compton Street and the rest of Central London hand in hand with your partner, boyfriend/girlfriend, significant other, or whatever other term you use to describe the person you are currently stepping out with.

Yet the reality for a great many people isn't quite like that. There are still many who consider the mere fact of this as an act of militant homosexuality - something that they will not tolerate in public. Those were the views of Nick Griffin, although they are not confined to the BNP. A great many other people, fundamentally opposed to the far right, openly share those views. Earlier this year I was heading home after a night out with someone, and when we stopped to kiss a car with a group of mouthy young boys stopped their car to hurl abuse at us. Instead of just walking away, we stood our ground and shouted back. Eventually they drove off. I remember at the time feeling quite exhilarated at the fact that it was now possible to do this. We were in Central London, just around the corner from Trafalgar Square.

A few months after that, at the end of September, Ian Baynham did pretty much the same thing to a group of people. He was violently assaulted by two women and a man and on 13th October he died from his injuries. James Parkes a 22 year-old trainee police officer was violently attacked by a group of youths aged between 13 and 16 last Sunday in Liverpool. These are just two of the high profile victims of homophobia. In an age of perceived equality these things are still happening. Usually it's thought that it's the people living in small towns who suffer in silence facing abuse and worse if they publicly declare their sexuality. Yet these two high profile attacks happened in places where seeing gays and lesbians publicly displaying their affections has been more commonplace.

It's against this backdrop that there will be candlelit vigils this weekend organised by people at grassroots level. The one in London, tomorrow was arranged a few weeks ago but seems to have suddenly caught itself in the zeitgeist. It's been arranged by a group set up to fight both racism, homophobia, and intolerance in remembrance of the people killed and injured in the nail bombing campaign which took place in Brick Lane, Brixton, and Soho ten years ago. The Liverpool one is much the same kind of response, ordinary people deciding to stand up and do something. This kind of grassroots activism is welcome, joined as it is by the East London Homophobia group - set up to monitor levels of homophobia and raise awareness of the issue in East London. It's a welcome antidote to Stonewall's increasing cosy work.

Their "some people are gay, get over it!" campaign has their trademark soft centred tone of self satisfaction. It seems we've won equality so let's all sit down and be nice to each other, having all the sincerity and unity of one of those Benetton ads from the 80's. Well I'm gay and I'm not getting over it, I'm glad to say. It's not an illness I can recover from (whatever some might believe). The Stonewall website seems almost blissfully ignorant of this demonstration, and there is no sign of any encouragement from them to join those in Trafalgar Square tomorrow. The website's only listed event is their own awards ceremony (which should read, are taking place, and not is, as you've pluralised awards). I will write something more on my thoughts about this organisation in another piece, as this isn't even the tip of the iceberg on my thoughts about this organisation...

Still, there are many who think the victories of recent legistlation have handed equality to gays and lesbians on a plate which is cloud cuckoo land thinking. When equality is won in law, it needs preserving, the fight to maintain it is just as hard. Look at the number of women MP's there aren't, or top female executives, black or Asian MP's, the fact that the Metropolitan Police was discirbed as institutionally racist 26 years after the Race Relations Act was passed, that women still struggle to receive equal pay in the workplace almost 40 years since the Equal Pay Act. These are just some of facts that sum up the reality that the battles for equality are never over.

I've been verbally abused, threatened, and intimidated largely by people who thought I was gay on a number of occasions in my life, but consider myself lucky that I've only been actually assaulted once. I remember going to my first Gay Pride in 1990 and looking at the faces of the people there and noticing how many of them had little scars on their faces, clearly some had been as result of being gay. I grew up in a small town and I faced homophobia all the time. It isn't nice and it needs to stop, but that will take time. I'm not a radical, I'm not a militant homosexual but I will stand up and be counted. I believe I have a right to be respected for who I am (which is many, many different things) and I have the right to be treated as equal who happens to be gay. Tomorrow I light a candle to stand up and add my voice to the people want to say enough, I light a candle to say I am not afraid, I light a candle for all the people who can't be there.

"More sinned against than sinning"

It's been a while, I've decided to revamp this and vent my spleen on the world and its failings. There is no better place to begin...

There is something fundamentally disingenuous about Nick Griffin, the racist fascist leader of ultra right-wing party the BNP. Since his election to the European Parliament we are expected to believe that the BNP are a credible party in British politics. The fact that they have exploited the same classic fears of countless fascist organisations by portraying of a country being "swamped" (Margaret Thatcher's term in 1978) by immigrants. A cheap way to legitimise their existence, which is based on hatred and discrimination. The other benefit was that they faced an electorate who took apathy to a new level. The upshot was that the BNP got fewer votes than in the previous European Elections but still ended up with 2 MEPs. So the upshot is we're stuck with them for a while longer.

Last Thursday Griffin got his grinning facade onto Question Time, the political discussion programme on the BBC. His performance was muddled, foolish, and predictable. There were the usual bashing of Islam as he tried to portray every follower of that faith who resides in the UK as a dedicated follower of Sharia law. I'm not fan of any religion, but this is his usual approach. In the process he alluded to being a friend of feminism by siting their views on adultery, conveniently forgetting that The Bible treats adulterous women no better. There were also the rather hilarious attempts to claim he didn't say things he's been filmed saying, or people he's shared platforms with being not quite as nasty as we think they are. Then there was his disputing of the figures of the Holocaust - stopping short of a flat denial - but still the words of a fascist fantasist. Listening to him I was reminded of the people who say, Hitler was a vegetarian, who liked children and animals. I should point out he was also a genocidal monster but that truth, like so many in the life of Nick Griffin, is a little too much to admit.

Watching his performances in the media I'm always reminded King Lear who, upon being thrown out by his two treacherous daughters Goneril and Regan, rages at the storm shouting "I am more sinned against than sinning". That is Nick Griffin's approach in a nutshell. He complains that the ordinary British working people are under threat by masses of immigrants who are either not white or don't speak English, that the liberal elite are undermining our morals, that he doesn't get a fair hearing on Question Time, the list of simpering goes on and on. If we are to believe him, then the poor chap really is as hard done by as the people he misrepresents.

The truths are somewhat different. The population of this country is still not exactly overrun by people who are not indigenous to this country. According to the Institute of Race Relations website:

• The 2001 census figures to show that out of just under 60 million people living in this country there are just over 54 million white people.


• The white population is attaining the third highest number of A* to C grades at GCSE in 2004 out of a list of 9 defined racial categories.


• The Cabinet Office concluded that, of the 44 most deprived local authority areas contain proportionally four times as many people from ethnic minority groups as other areas


• The English Housing Survey revealed that ethnic minority households are three times more likely than white households to live in a poor neighbourhood.


• The unemployment rate for ethnic minority groups has traditionally been twice that of whites.
  

Whilst no one is denying that some white people live in bad neighbourhoods, face difficulties in the education system, and with opportunities for employment in the current recession hit employment market, it is a myth to say that they are doing worse than anyone else. It is ridiculous of the BNP to insinuate that white working class people are becoming a persecuted minority. There are simply to many of them to make that claim seem even remotely credible. Gaining a voice by aligning with the far right isn't the way to bring about the changes needed, it merely reduces the amount of credibility to the majority of who people view those demands, however legitimate they are. It brings us back to the Lear quote.

There are many who feel that Nick Griffin should be silenced, that he has no place in mainstream politics, and should not have been asked onto Question Time. I sympathise with this view. I suspect that Griffin and the BNP view their opponents with utter contempt. The same kind of contempt that Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Pinochet, Saadam Hussien, Pol Pot, and countless other despots viewed legitimate opposition. If they were elected to govern they would silence the free press, round up and imprison, deport, and probably murder their vocal opponents. Yet we live in a democracy, and so I have to let them have their say. In return they have to let me have mine, for what it is worth. That's the function of a democracy.

The telling moment last Thursday was the man who stood up from the audience and proclaimed that he was proud to be born and bred in Britain. He had brown skin, I'm not sure where he was from. He asked Mr Griffin what he would do with him and got no reply. The next day Nick Griffin claimed that London was no longer British, and I think the man in the audience probably got his answer there. I misread the headline on the paper stand and thought Nick Griffin was no longer British - which would do us all a favour if he and his vile sycophants departed these shores for some Caucasian utopia.

These are people who consider multi-cultural societies as something to be feared. They forget that we live on island which is full of people from all over Europe who came here and conquered. It's all in our DNA. We, and our wonderful culture, are a product of this if the BNP think that white people have been here in this pure unadulterated form then he is gravely mistaken. I long to live in a society where I can use another of my favourite Shakespeare quotes to describe the BNP, "it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing".

One Hundred And Seven Days

It's early on Saturday morning. I've just been out and celebrated a 20th birthday - I had a lovely time and met a lot of people. It was a good experience in a period where the experiences have sometimes been good. In one way I feel quite old when I head out to events like this but then again I also feel it's good to go out there and meet new people. I guess I've never let the grass grow under my feet when it comes to meeting new people.

The person whose birthday it is has only been a proper part of my circle and my life for a few weeks, yet we seem to be able to communicate with each other remarkably easily. Sometimes you meet people who just transcend what would be the normal barriers. I am glad I've got to know this person and can vouch for the tremendously positive effect they have had on my life. They've helped me see that everything isn't necessarily hopeless and I'm not quite the dreadful useless unlikable person I sometimes see staring back at me in mirrors.

It's Sunday now and I'm about to finish one hundred and seven days of unemployment. The Thursday job interview in the afternoon for a customer service role ending up as a training interview. In short, I'm going to start at the customer service role and make proposals to improve the training and suggest other ways we can further develop the people in the call centre. The person who interviewed me is the call centre manager and I think we just got on well. I get the feeling I could do good things there. Tomorrow at 10am it will begin.

Then again it may go horribly wrong. I am still plagued with doubt even though I have a plan in my head for the work I can do for the company which will last about a year in total. That said it's been a terrible period of my life. I've stared into the abyss and I am still looking down. I sometimes think whatever it is just transfixes me. It's the frozen feeling I have when I'm gripped with it. I will be better able to deal with this now I'm working because there will be things in my life which won't just be relating to me.

I have been thinking about what the blog is quite a bit recently. People who have known for a long time would probably describe me as a very happy go lucky and easy going person. I think this began with my mindset still in that mood. I expected it to stay like that but something quite dark overtook me. The job search became a struggle and a battle to stay faithful enough to get me through a day sometimes. I've also voiced my private thoughts - something I don't really do very effectively with people. I find it difficult. I was thinking about this today and remembered something from my past. Just over 10 years ago I got attacked and robbed at knife point. My fingers were damaged (requiring 23 stitches) and they never properly recovered. The most difficult thing about the whole experience wasn't the event itself, or any of its aftermath. The most upsetting thing for me was hearing how upset people were when I told them what had happened. That was much more difficult to deal with.

People's reaction to my situation has touched me. One of my colleagues from my last job told me she was very upset reading this. I want to apologise to anyone who's been upset by anything they've read here. I have tried to be as honest as I feel I can be here. It is what happens and the way I think having a large part of your life feels like when it is taken from you. I think the majority of people currently victimised by the recession really do want a job, and want to make a contribution to the country through working. It's difficult to think about how we can help all those people. I've got lucky - I was in the right place at the right time and was able to show something that may well turn out to be just what the interviewer wanted - even if I wasn't there for that job.

Last night I was at the 40th birthday party of my friend who is being kind enough to let me stay in his flat for the time being. We had a very pleasant evening. It was an odd contrast to the 20th birthday of the previous night. The atmosphere was much less frenetic, surrounded by a group of people I've known on the most part for almost 10 years there was a soft sense of camaraderie about the evening. Then one of the guests asked me what would happen to the blog now? It's a good question.

I've decided not to end it here. It's probably helped me to have a place to come and voice some of the things in my life that trouble, frustrate, bemuse, elate, confuse, worry, concern, and puzzle me. It feels at the moment like I'm only half way towards finishing the story I've been telling. For the casual reader there is probably the issue of how will the job go? Coupled with that I would be leaving the story with me living in my temporary abode and my stuff still stacked up in Croydon. So on we go with this.

It's finally quiet here. The crying protests of overtired children refusing to settle down and sleep has finally stopped as there is silence now from the neighbours. My life has always been full of doubts but it does have a strange way of working itself out. I'd completely lost sight of that with all the despair I've been feeling. Time to remember that I really can survive just about anything life cares to throw at me. I need to go and iron a shirt and get ready for the coming day. Tomorrow I wake up with a new title, "the new bloke". Cross your fingers and we'll hope that everything goes well.

Preparation Day

There is just one day to go before my interview. I've just been speaking to the woman who set it all up and she's given me some useful tips - so I'm not going in there totally blind on this one. The plus is that I won't have to go through the usual competency based question interview as the woman conducting it isn't a fan of these things. Truth is, neither am I. I've had a good coaching session from her and now need to focus my explanation time on getting the inteviewer to see that I know what I'm talking about, and will fit into the team and the company itself. This will probably call upon some of my finest dramatic skills.

I'm beginning to get a little nervous about the whole thing and need to relax myself a little. I am going to do this by indulging in a practice run down to the venue. One of my biggest issues is always trying to find the place that I am going to. By doing a dry run, I will know how long it will take and also exactly where it is. This way I will arrive at the interview tomorrow in a better frame of mind than I would otherwise. Making sure I'm not stressed or rushing is so important for things like this. It can make all the difference.

I'm also trying to keep a positive approach to the interview. I think when you have spent such a long time getting nowhere this can be difficult. We've all been asked to go for interviews we didn't really expect to be asked to and the key thing to remember is that, if someone has asked you for an interview they think you might be able to do the job. It's up to you to prove to them that you can. By asking you along they are interested, or curious at the very least. I've not always remembered this when I'm going to an interview and have probably made the mistake of sounding or appearing like I don't want, or can't do, the job I've been shortlisted for. It's a case of remembering two things: you are still in with a chance of the job until they tell you otherwise, and the worst thing they can say to you is no.

North London Days

It's been over 3 months since I began this blog. When it began it was meant to be something which reflected my general outlook on life. It's become something a little more than that and this is partly due to the fact that my life has changed quite drastically. It's the realisation that there is nothing is safe and secure about it. There are times when I feel like the last few years have passed by in some quiet delusion. I was blind to the events happening around me. Now I'm wide awake and not sure what anything is anymore. All of it feels like it could be taken in an instant. I'm in what I've just realised is my third living space this year. I began out west and after going south I've ended up in the north of London. Maybe I'll finish up in the east - who knows?

I've been thinking about the other people I write about in the blog too. I try and keep the actual identity obscure enough for them to maybe know its them but not enough for a casual bystander to know who I'm talking about. It is strange telling this story, and I cannot do it without them. Most are reading this and living through my journey. I hope they realise that I'm not going to compromise them.

I have been reading this book about the development of the Hip-Hop culture called "Can't Stop Won't Stop - A History Of The Hip-Hop Generation". I've not read a lot yet but it's amazing. The author, Jeff Chang, approaches his subject by describing any generation as a fiction. He states that the reasons for this are to impose a narrative on them. Once we can tell it as a story it's easier for the rest of us to follow the course of action to its conclusion. He sees these uses as some kind of elaborate plot device. I know all good stories have to have beginnings, middles, and ends. I am not sure what or where this ends, and I will probably keep writing beyond the search for a new job. This is, as I've said countless times before, a way of my making sense of this world. Whatever you do, don't stop reading. I'm writing this so I hope some will see something of their own experience in this. I'm not universal, I'm just telling my story as it unfolds.

This Last Day In Croydon

I suppose it was inevitable at some point. The return of the dark clouds doesn't take long. Perhaps it's just the tiredness. I've been sorting out this flat for days. It's been slow sluggish process, heavy limbed deadness blighting my progress. Facing the reality of the whole situation all over again. This is not a story with a happy ending, it's just not ending. For all the people I can lean on, I still feel alone and exposed. I am not moving into a new home, so I will have to do this all over again. It is a state of flux, something many of us really don't want to endure.

I went up to my new home in North London and realised how much more intense it was. I may have lived in the Greater London area for 10 years but I've lived on its fringes for a while. I'm moving into something with much more activity, hustle, and bustle. There doesn't seem to be a sense of quiet, although Finsbury Park is nearby so there is space to escape to - if it is needed. I've no clue how long this stay will be, but I'm not expecting it to last more than a few weeks or a couple of months. This move is designed to galvanise my search for a new job or a new career. I also want to go and fix some of what's been happening to me. I'm sure a doctor will probably say that I'm ill. Today this is even managing to manifest in a physical way as I'm feeling nauseous. This is quite strange, and a little worrying.

Last night I was asked to go out to a bar for a DJ set. There was a guest from the band Fuck Buttons. His set was full of dark bleeps, techno, and some other electronica. It's a while since I hear a mixture of Detroit and Warp records blending together like that and it was the highlight of the evening. I arrived and felt so dead tired I was glad the people I'd planned to see were pretty occupied as I could just sit back and listen to the music. I'm not exactly the life and soul of the party at the moment. Usually I would put on a smile and head out into the crowd, but at the moment I find this so exhausting and I really can't pull it off for long as people ask questions, you can only answer.

I was talking to one of the DJs late on and as our conversation progressed I felt like someone had flattened me out. It was as if I'd been squashed under a steamroller. I stood talking feeling paper thin. It was a curious sensation. I'm feeling its ripples still. I am tense, tired, stressed, and almost without any sense of hope at all. It's like someone has scraped away the skin and exposed the nerves, then doused them in salt. I feel without power and wondering what hope feels like again.

Movers Day

It's 9.50am and I'm sitting in a rather silent flat, waiting for the movers to arrive. They should be here any minute now. I called to check what time they would arrive and was told they'd be along after they got the MOT done on the van. So assuming the thing is actually roadworthy they will be here within the next half an hour. I'm still trying to work out if I'm getting a good deal on this, but the people are going to load my stuff and unpack it at the other end so I don't have to worry too much about that. Sometimes little things like that really do make the difference.



It's strange when you look at how you cope. A couple of weeks ago I could barely get myself out of bed and life seemed pretty pointless. I guess it still does seem pointless but the difference is I have to do this. It's not a case of choice, it's got to be done. Actually I'm glad I didn't stay on the extra month here. I am not helping myself just sitting watching the days go by. I need something to change and right now the only thing I can change easily is where I live. So the adventure goes on.



I've still got quite a bit to do here. The stuff I've left to take with me needs packing and the kitchen stuff is going into storage tomorrow. There should only be a small box worth of that and as the deal today involved not carrying any breakable items this way makes more sense. Once that's done I can clean the flat - this shouldn't take too long as I've got almost no stuff here anymore so there are fewer obstacles. I think it'll take a couple of hours but I should be able to get the place looking pretty presentable in that time. My vacuum cleaner seems to be able to suck the dust from between the fibers of a carpet - which is pretty good in my book.



Tomorrow I head for North London and sharing with my friend and as there's not much coming with me so I will lead the simple life for a while. I'm trying not to think of all of this anything more than a necessary transition although deep inside it just feels like failure. Coming here and living on my own was the grand experiment. The final proof that I could stand on my own two feet and face a life on my own. It just hasn't worked out. Circumstances have really conspired against me. It is fair to say that I had little to do with the fact that I was made redundant, or that this place I rent really eats quickly into my financial reserves. Yet still everyone wants to feel that they can tough it out in times like these. Well I haven't been able to and, for all the words of encouragement I receive from my friends it doesn't provide much comfort.



The 13 week review went quite well. The person I met with was quite pleasant and understanding and even suggested I look at vacancies in the civil service. She suggested that with the background I had I could easily find work doing what she did for a living. I suppose it's not out of the question in reality. I've never really seen myself as a government man. They will at least be pleased that the last recruiter to call (yesterday afternoon) has secured me a real live interview. This is the first since April. I have some experience for the job but not masses as its more sales orientated. That said, it is fair to say that as long as the guidelines are clear it should be easy to go in and pick up any training and do a pretty convincing job of it. It's about knowing what you do and being confident. In front of people I can make them believe both of these things.

It's now 11pm and the move has been expensive but rather pain free. There is still the small matter of the kitchen stuff to ship off, the charity shop stuff to donate and my trek to North London. It's off to bed and let's see what tomorrow brings.

Ninety One Days

A couple of weeks ago I received a letter from the employment people summoning me to my 13 week interview. For the first 13 weeks I am permitted to look for jobs specifically within my field of experience. Once that is passed you are required to "review your progress" and come up with some other options in order to find a job. It's supposed to be a way of guiding you back into work yet I know that tomorrow is about punishment. You haven't managed to find a job, you've failed to do so and now you have to explain why you've failed and what you are going to do in order not to fail again.

This will involve agreeing to apply for jobs I've not done for over half a decade, jobs I've stepped away from. The things that chart your progress as an individual. I've been one of those people who looks at work as an area of my life I've always been able to control and measure my success. Without it I've discovered how little I have nothing to aim for, and nothing to drive me forward. There is too much time to sit around and think and after a while you just shut down, because it seems like the only way to survive. We all like to take pride in our work, no one ever really thinks about what happens when the work is gone and there is nothing.

I've spent a lot of time in the past 2 weeks worrying about everything but my career. There is just the one day to go before the movers arrive and there is still masses to sort out in the flat. To be honest, I really don't need this bloody distraction. I spent Sunday working on my CV to produce something which would be seen as an alternative to my training CV to apply for some customer service jobs. I think I spent about half a day working to produce something which will result in earning about half the money I earned in my last job, and about one third less money than the one before that. I will not have anywhere to live by Friday and am forced into staying with a friend (still paying rent, bills, and now storage fees) all to try and downsize enough to be able to survive and live my life - if that's what I can call it. My focus at the moment isn't about work it's about getting through this week and into next week.

I've had the support of people and some have been giving me the most tremendous support and encouragement to get through this. I'm suffering some terrific lows and some quite wonderful and unexpected highs in the process. I seem to have a bipolar life at the moment. I wouldn't say I'm bipolar but the things that are happening can only produce extreme reactions. The coach I have seen helped me look at everything and come up with some options as to what to do. Most of them were actually quite realistic but also fraught with difficulties and uncertainties.



I've not been able to predict anything in the past few weeks but I've become an increasingly honest person about where my feelings are. I still feel like I'm doing all of this on my own, and that's the hardest part. People don't get let into my life that easily and it means you end up needing twice the strength to face and deal with everything sometimes. As I sit here and write this I suddenly feel dead tired and next week seems a very long way from here.

Six days

Time runs out, moving quickly taking me towards the move. Everything still needs packing and tomorrow the back of that should be broken. It's hard to have to face up to this leaving as it seems like it's circumstances that are causing it. The same ones which have left me sitting first in twilight and then watching this cold darkness descend, leaving me blank and helpless.

I've had a week where I've not felt despair and it's all been about finding a way out this mess, yet tonight it seems to have returned again. Like an old unwelcome friend its back again eager to suck the hope from the marrow in my bones. The sugar rush replaced with some kind of real comedown I don't want to face. I feel tired again and really not terribly able to deal with all the testing trials thrown in front of me. Things are a lot better but the doubt I feel is painfully real and I worry about what happens outside of the time frame I can safely predict.

Today I became the 612th person to apply for a particular job. It's about half the money I was earning but the prospects are supposedly good. Actually the reason I applied is that I know one of the managers at the company who I worked with a few years ago. It's a ridiculous number of people and I doubt my application will even get through the vetting process. It's prompted me to update my CV somewhat but with all the other chaos going on I don't think it is really yet absolutely providing the best description of my experience in customer services. Going back to square one is really my best option at a job. If this doesn't work with a concerted effort over the next few weeks then I really will have run out of ideas to make it work. The prospect of real long term unemployment may really become something of a reality.

There are some grounds for hope - the flat in Depford I went to see is looming back into the picture. The owner has said that the place is now being redecorated, the huge wardrobe can be removed, and they would consider adding a washing machine to sweeten the deal. I'm not sure if this is exactly good news and I'm not saying it's the solution to my problems but I have agreed to go and see the place again once this is all completed. Someone up there seems to be providing me with a possible solution to one of my problems and I am keeping my options open.

I still have lots of support from people and I really have to focus on the positives, but that's hard for me to do sometimes. The morning leaves me facing the packing and really having to push to get everything done. Things like that help focus the mind. I know I should probably spend more time looking for work but there is only so much time to do everything during the day. I'll work on that more closely when I'm somewhere close to having reached my new destination. I've no idea what I will be doing or thinking next Monday. I'd usually see it all as a new adventure and another chapter, but right now I don't know what to think about anything most of the time and I don't know what to make of that.

Nine Days

Time here is almost over. To be honest this hasn't been the finest period of my life but at least it's almost over. I do have a beautiful flat but the difficulty in keeping it has left me quite tired and demoralised by a lot of the experiences of the last few months. When I came here I really felt like I was starting out on my own. No housemates to share with this was the time to finally assert my independence and live life on my own. The whole experience has been one of failure. My moods have dipped so far that I'm not sorry to go.

I don't know what the future holds at the moment but there is a time limit on the new flat. The costs of storage are pretty prohibitive so the impetus will be on finding some work and a new place really are urgent. I have only a finite amount of money in which to sink into storage and that will be pretty much gone after 3 months. The place itself isn't too expensive but the insurance is cripplingly high due to the sheer number of Cd's that I own. I have keep them secure so it's the price I have to pay. I could find a bedsit for almost the same amount of money.

I've got most of the stuff sorted out. The movers are coming next week early to whisk my stuff off to the lorry and into the (already arranged) storage. I've then got the rest of the day to clean up the house. I'm not sure if I'm going to stay the next day or move my stuff up. The check out is the day after and then I'm out of this place and off to start the adventure in North London.

It's been a pretty productive time. It's funny how a looming deadline really can focus the mind on a task. After feeling so resigned to everything for the previous month I feel like I've found some reasons to get on with things. I've had lots of support from people and I've found a lot of support from someone I'm just getting to know but whose been on the fringes of my social circle for some time. Small things which help boost my spirits really do seem to be changing my whole view of the world.

I'm off to the coach today to discuss what else I could do with my career. The chances of getting any decent work is becoming smaller and smaller. So many of the alternative jobs I'm looking at seem to be phenomenally badly paid and I'm starting to think that I'll be forced into taking a second job in order to make sure I have enough money. It's entirely possible that something may change about this. I am prepared to admit that I'm hopeful at the first time in ages. I don't know about what but I feel the fog of depression has lifted - if only for a short while. I'm not anywhere near being hopeful and happy about the future at all. Yet for the first time in an absolute age I am prepared to see it as a future.

Changing Days

I began the last blog saying things move fast, they do. At a point yesterday evening I was on the phone to a friend of mine talking about what I'd been doing on Sunday. I'd been to a topical comedy show at lunchtime, it was fun although I made the mistake of making an early contribution and inadvertently provided the panel of comedians more mileage than the whole of the Sunday newspapers could manage. That's comedy, I guess. It was fun and it did somewhat remind me that there are times when my skin may still be thicker than the transparent thing I think it has recently become. Recalling that was like recalling something which had happened weeks ago.

Things this week have changed so much I am almost unable to say what is going to happen next. I went to casually check on my claims after signing on and discovered that the whole thing had not gone even remotely the way it should have done. I was so dazed I couldn't even think of going to see about storage. I felt knocked sideways again and utterly unable to even think straight. I went down to the place and just wandered around near to the place without ever going to discuss storage because if I'd gone and done so I'd have either rented something the size of a box, or an air hanger and I probably couldn't have told you which a couple of hours later. Instead I had to fix the problem I had so that I actually end up with some of the money someone told me I was entitled to but not getting because of the sheer utter bureaucratic pettiness some officials have in "doing their job" and actually then not admitting they are wrong, when they are. I wandered around before this contemplating walking into the traffic and doing everyone a favour. Fortunately none of it was travelling fast enough to make that option even remotely worth the slightest consideration.

This week began as the first step in a personal healing process, something I need to do for me to change things. I need to sort a lot of stuff out in my life and I'm beginning to realise that I probably can't really move my career (if that's what going to work has ever been to me - something I actually doubt) forwards. Without this I probably won't ever feel I've succeeded in my life at all. Yet all that has been put aside, the landscape totally metamorphosising before my very eyes, not once but about 3 times. I'm almost at the point where I think concrete planning days ahead isn't possible, not because I can't face them, but because that won't be what I'll be doing. Something else will come up. I just have to keep finding more and more to do this just to survive through to the next day. It's bloody hard now and I really don't know when it will stop. Everything seems so relentless at the moment. This has been probably the worst period of my life. I've dealt ably with things before this but now I feel like I spend so much time fighting just to stay on my feet as I'm battered by a constand flood.

I've realised something about the last few weeks of writing this. The darkness that has descended on my life is affecting me in so many different ways and its odd the way its affecting me. I've always been quite guarded about what I tell people. I don't share emotions easily unless they're about art, music, politics, theatre, sport, or some abstract idea or viewpoint. Then I have passion. The people stuff is empathy and understanding of what I think about other people but it is seldom about how I feel. That's the healing that needs to take place. There are people I know who are reading this who I cannot face and tell what I write here. Some of them I don't actually think want to hear me say it, but they can read it here.

All this stuff has cost me one friendship so far. That person doesn't know how deeply affected I am about that, and probably never will and I don't even think they care. They felt I wasn't honest. Everything about me, I built it all on lies. I do that to survive, to get through the day and it's what I've always done. There are people I am now being honest with face to face. Then there is blog where I can face up to things in a different way. Perhaps I am this unfeeling monster that just takes the bad stuff and buries it in a box. I told someone that the other day and they said that it would mould and eventually this would grow so much it would push open the box and then the mould would be outside and would need to be dealt with. Perhaps that's what I am realising now.

Then there are the pressing issues. The next is sorting out what I am going to do for work. I have to sit down with the career coach sometime in the next couple of weeks and construct something which will give me the opportunity to get some kind of work again. This won't be so much a case of "think outside the box", more build a new box out of the bits and pieces of experience I do have from years of doing all kinds of strange and wonderful things. The only issue is getting anyone to want these fairly unproven talents when the jobless figures jumped faster than they have ever done. I'm part of that record but I don't think it's going to stand all that long. 23,000 people a week are being made redundant in a time when one financial institution celebrates its recovery by returning to old fashioned reward system. These are difficult, different times.

Sixteen Days

Things move fast sometimes, maybe too fast. There is always the opportunity for life to get just a little more mangled than it already is and my trusty life managed to find a couple of curve balls to add to the mix in the past 48 hours. As a consequence I'm now on the countdown to leaving my flat and heading off and up to North London in sixteen days. I'm off to sign on today and now also have an appointment for my 13 week interview with the Jobcentre people which will be right in the middle of moving house.

As I'm a single 45 year-old man with no children, an ex-wife demanding money for their upkeep, disabled, or ill or infirm in any other way, the chances of the council actually providing any decent help is next to nothing. I think I pay my council tax (when I actually pay it) to have my rubbish taken away. Yet I actually create so little of this I usually throw out a bag of rubbish every fortnight. Somehow I think the knowledge of this would probably make them view me as something approaching a model citizen. That said, I don't expect there is anything really they will do to help me as I've only been in the Borough for 6 months - if that. So thankfully I have friends who can at least help me out with somewhere to live for a while at least.



I'm off to check out some storage options tomorrow so I should have quite a bit of the ground work done by the end of the day. It will then be down to finding someone to move my stuff to the place and arrange what day that will be. After that, I just have to get the little stuff I'm taking with me up to my new abode and hope to goodness that I find some form of employment reasonably quickly so that I can begin the process of finding a new permanant home. Somewhere where I can at least have most of my stuff with me. That said I think the TV may be making its way to my sister for a while to come. I don't expect I'll be living on my own so it would be a waste just to have it gathering dust.

My mood is very changable. I felt like I was turning the corner and this has certainly knocked me back. I woke up at 5.17am this morning very stressed and couldn't sleep again because of the worry I was experiencing. All the doctor stuff and the moving forwards in that department will simply have to wait until I've sorted all of this stuff out. That said I may go up and register myself in the area next week as feel this is going to one of those occasions where there will be a burst of activity before I actually run out of things to do and turn back in on myself for a couple of days. People are being brilliant and very supportive still and I really don't know what would be happening if that wasn't the case. My one friend is still silent, and I'm quietly coming to terms with this.

I've got one little goal to complete before I head out of this place, and that is to watch the final series of The West Wing. I'm shamelessly addicted to this since I got the box set about a year and a half ago. I've been really good and only watched about two episodes a week up until season five. Since then I've been binging on the thing like there is no tomorrow. I've got through two seasons in a matter of weeks and now have 16 days for the last one. I have to say it is one of the few things in this house which absolutely animates me. Throughout the programme the performances and the characters have been strong, the earlier seasons have slightly sharper dialogue but the later ones have driving plot which makes them almost more addictive for some reason. There is more plot and less nuance but it still makes for compulsive viewing. Yes, I do know some of the key developments in the last series but I'm sure it will not spoil the pleasures of watching it. At the very least there are about 20 hours of the next couple of weeks I can look forward to.

Sunday After The Week Before

It's almost exactly a week to the very minute since I discovered I'd been robbed - part of a series of events which has got me to today. We could all say that, but there have been things I've had to admit this week which have been difficult. I wrote about them in the last blog and I'll continue the theme through this piece. They are all relevant and Friday's post really did only half of the thing justice.

It's been a very difficult week and a half really as it all began on Thursday of the week before. I'd had a big argument with a friend of mine and we decided to meet up and clear the air. A good day was had but by the end I'd gone way deeper into myself than is really healthy for me. I explained (and in some ways) faced up to the inner self - the place I never go - and a place people aren't supposed to go and see. It all got a bit emotional, as I said in previous post. When I tried explaining in an e-mail it all kind of came out wrong and so, it would seem, we're not likely to be talking ever again. I feel a terrible sense of loss about this. The odd thing is, it's made me talk to people.

There's an old addict's truism which says that you can't fix a problem unless you first admit it. I've talked to a few people this week about the stuff behind what I write here in the blog - ironically neither of the people who I spoke to have had the time to read all of this. The Tuesday one set the alarm bells ringing, and all the people who have been in touch have been amazing. On Friday I went out and saw a friend of mine DJing and had a very nice time indeed. I had a long talk with an old friend about lots of things and was able to be honest about what was happening. I'd done the same thing on Thursday with another friend of mine. So yesterday morning I woke up for the first time in ages and actually wanted to get up and not think, "what's the point?", pull the duvet over my head and try and go back to sleep. I had a friend come see me for dinner last night and we talked a lot about each other's difficulties. He's got lots of problems too, and it gave me a new perspective on mine which was useful too.

I'm going to concede that the next step is seeing a doctor. I don't actually want to be medicated in any way, but I do want to look at talking to someone more about the way my depression is working, how it's affecting me, and what I can do about fixing some of the faulty wires inside my head which are causing it. All of this is very scary stuff and involves going places, far from the here and now and properly facing them, not putting them in a box and carrying on as if nothing really happend. I'm beginning to realise that this is the only way I'll get through this, find another job and be at peace. The darkness is still there, and capable of descending like a fog, paralyzing me.

It's odd, when I started this I wanted to document the trials of job hunting in a time of recession. I should have known, like my life has always been, that it could never be that simple.

Mid Days

In the trough that I find myself in these days I'm rarely really ready to do much before midday - the time it is just approaching now. I usually wake somewhere between 7 and 8.30am but I don't usually bother to actually get up immediately any more. If I do, I tend to go back to sleep for an hour or so after having wandered around the house and generally wondering why I actually got up in the first place. I feel something like a grouchy old person, one much older than I actually am.

I've had a couple of leads this week for jobs. One company spoke to me about a role, but we reached the "do you drive?" question and that was the dealbreaker. I was unflinchingly honest with the interviewer in stressing that I really only wanted to have to learn if it was an absolute necessity. I really don't want to add to the already skyrocketing CO2 emissions unless it is just not practical otherwise. The other job I applied for is, on the surface, something I should be able to do - although "an interest in the maritime, logistics, and energy sectors would be preferablem but not desirable" has to make this one of the more interesting jobs I've applied for. That said, I can fit most of the other criteria that they have descirbed.

The job is a fascinating example of how employers seem obsessed with "dressing up" some of the basic responsiblities of a role. One job I've applied for this week expects you to "interface with" certain people including "subject matter experts". What they actually want is to make sure that the experts in the subject are met with, and kept informed as to what you are doing - including possibly agreeing (or signing off) anything you plan to use in training. I'm honestly not sure why people go to such lengths when describing this stuff as it does really strike you as that management speak bullshit that people are still clinging to in parts of the working world. Either they don't realise there's a recession on, or it was one hell of a slow week in the office.

I applied for a job today, realising that the last time I'd actually done so on this particular website was 22nd June. This is despite the fact that I probably look at the site almost every day. I remember the last job I applied for from them the message said that it was the only of job of its type they had. This was out on 90,000+ jobs (although you could reduce the number by considering that it was only London. That said you would probably even find less than 20 in the whole of the UK. When I think about that the grey mists descend again.

I'm writing this in between doing the washing up, something I frequently forget. I fill the bowl and put the stuff in, go back to the computer, stare at virtually nothing and then a few hours later I go back to a sink full of soaking plates and cups in stone cold water. Time passes in this fog. I've decided not to take the other flat and hang on here for a few more weeks into August, although, if I'm honest, I don't think it's helping my state of mind all that much. Solitude is somewhere to escape to. Trouble is, since not having a job it's become the place I live. As I've said before, we are defined by our work so much so it's almost imperceptible. We yearn for the free time I have, but it just leaves you empty and inert - if you let it. All in all not a good situation to find yourself in. The Government provide enough to keep you alive, and that's it, There is precious little left once the bills are paid and the cupboards filled. Precious little left to hope for either.

Bleak Days

I went for a drink with a friend of mine the other day and ended up crying quite openly in the middle of a bar. I revealed quite a deep part of me. The part I like to lock away. I felt slightly liberated by some more positive events and had a lovely day up until that point. Then in the excitement my friend had his phone stolen. This did at least give me a chance to regain a little composure and focus on something else - although I then just felt bad about the fact that I'd been responsible for this happening.


There were some grounds for hope last week. I had a long conversation with an agency who seemed both genuinely interested in what I had done with my life, charmed by the person they were talking to (one of my better attributes), and committed to helping find me something to do. It was, without question, the best interview I'd given since I got my last job which started exactly a year ago from the time of writing. On top of that someone managed to find me a possilbe place to move to which would accept housing benefit. It's in Depford and the person I was talking to lives next door and is a very interesting person. Little things should pick you up and give you hope. I'd had a bit of a run in with the person I was out with on Thursday in the previous week and so had been glad that we'd managed to find a way to communicate again.



Of course all of this has proved to be quite a big emotional false dawn. The flat is dark and small and I'm sure I could make something of it but I'm not entirely sure I want to be somewhere where there is no washing machine. In this day and age I do really consider having a washing machine in my house as something close to a basic human right. I don't know if I really can give that up - whether they accept housing benefit claimants or not. I can always stay at my friend's house but it does mean I need to find some kind of work of some description and then even then I know that the chances of finding somewhere decent to live will be severely limited by the fact that I'm unlikely to earn even two thirds of what I do now. That also limits the kind of places I can live comfortably.



I've been honest with my friend about a lot of things and he seems to be not talking to me and I'm beginning to wonder if that's to do with one key thing I said to him. He is a person, like probably many of my friends, who believe in honesty. I'm not the most emotionally honest person I know. I've probably been at least mildly depressed for most of the past three and a half years since my mother died. I have dealt with an awful lot of difficulties in my life and I struggle with them by putting on my face - the smile. After a while it's easy. You walk up to the door, take a deep breath, tell yourself you can do this, smile, and open the door. The rest is automatic. It's how you survive when you don't feel good about life, about yourself, about what you are doing with your life sometimes and it is the thing I am finding I am becoming increasingly unable to do.



The truth is that I don't know what my life is anymore. I've done all these things. I've achieved little, but there are things I can say, I did that. I want enough money to buy the things I like, and have a little left over for a rainy day. That's gone, so have all the things I've done. I feel like they've been taken from me. I don't have huge debts, in fact I am one of the rare breed of people who have none. Yet I also don't own a house or a car, or have a love in my life, so in the eyes of many I don't have anything much either. What have I done with my life? I've lived it, I've drifted and, in the eyes of many, I would guess I would be seen as someone who has failed. Suddenly I'm 45 and I have to deal with this awful place I have here.

Then Saturday night I went out and end up inviting someone to come and have some wine I have back at my house as there is nowhere else to go. I fall asleep at about 8am and when I wake 4 hours later the person is gone. So is my phone, my camera, the money in my pocket, and a spare phone I had. Most of this isn't insured and the person who stole these things even knew I didn't have a job. I've sat numb for 2 days trying to work out why this is happening to me again. My life has been one long series of abuses by other people and it just keeps happening. I've used all my strength trying to deal with all of these it's hardly surprising that I'm running on empty.

People keep saying to me that things will change, something will happen to make it better. Something will turn up, and I am asking myself more and more, what if it doesn't? What if this really is all my life will have ever been? I'm worried with each passing day that this is the truth. I'm some large sea creature slowly burning in the sun stranded on the beach and never likely to return to the water before I die. I look inside myself and find nothing. I'm staring into a void, forcing myself to go out and shop, come home and eat food because right now I really don't care anymore. After the weekend I know there are places further down the spiral, each seemingly worse than the last. I don't even know where I am anymore and I also don't know how to get out.

Birth Days

When I write these entries I usually put them here having written them all in one sitting, or saved and returned to for some minor adjustments. This is on about the sixth edit. It's been the hardest week and the stuff has been the hardest to write.

I have been almost catatonically depressed this past week, not only have there been almost no jobs to even bother applying for it was my birthday the other day. I suddenly realised that were I to drop dead at this precise moment then I would be described in the media as "an unemployed 45 year old", which is far from edifying. The thing is that our work, our career, defines us and plays an important part in the perception other people end up having about us. Like it or not, we are the work we do, or don't, do. It's probably why we look down upon people who are not working as if they are lesser people because of it. If someone confounds the type we tend to view them with some kind of saddened sympathy which is actually rather patronising when I think about it. The current situation means that we have entered a time when the prospect of secure long term employment looks like a relic of a different time. We are trying to see where the future will lead us but it doesn't hold out much hope. We will have to change our thinking about the people who don't have jobs and that is going to be difficult - even for some of those in that situation themselves.

My friends are starting to sound worried when they send me messages and on phone calls. All I can say is that I'm not doing well. It's like being hit by waves, you are thrown under by one and then you manage to drag yourself out, only to be hit back under by the seventh wave. After a while you become seduced by the strange otherworldly sounds of being underwater. There is a wonderful sense of security and solitude here. Nothing can hurt you, cold numb and suspended in a kind of stasis away from hope. You know you should not be here, it's dangerous, but after a while you are so immobile you just don't care.

Perhaps it's the ordeal of the birthday. Why celebrate, there is nothing to celebrate and even less to see in the future. There are times when I look at my life and find it's like waking up in the middle of a busy motorway, with things whizzing past you, scary and confusing. All the more so because I've no idea how I got here. "You're 45", the voice said, and I look around and see a desolate remote place, far from home, far from anywhere. There is just a mirror, I look and see the face staring back at me isn't young any more and I no longer recognise it. I'm stranded somewhere and I don't know how to get back.

The other downside is the thought of what I should have done. I think I want a lot from life but I'm not very good at getting it. I've dealt with a lot of difficult things in my life and they do have an impact on you. If you get battered by events in life often enough then it definitely affects your ability to look at yourself in a positive light. I do find that hard. Yet people have been crawling out of the woodwork to offer me words of support and encouragement over the past few weeks, and that has increased a lot in the past week. This makes me feel both grateful and guilty at the same time.

I was reading a posting on a website by someone who was feeling very negative about themselves, and the difficult thing was that he described his problems as not that important in the grand scale of things. Like his, mine aren't either. Yet, like his, they are my problems and it's my world. At the moment that world very seriously out of balance and there are aspects of it I'm finding very hard to survive. This isn't actually the most difficult thing I've ever had to deal with, not by a long way. I've dealt with things that would have destroyed some of the people I've met in my life. Yet this is the one I'm finding hardest to deal with. Maybe living alone gives me time to reflect and remove the mask I would wear around others to cope with it, or perhaps it's more about the age I am and the fact that there are different rules, the older you get. There is less chance to manoeuvre and re-inventing your life takes time, and there is less of it left in which to do this.

I've been selfish and I'm finding it hard not push everyone away. I've lashed out at someone for pushing me hard. I am, in some aspects, quite a selfish person, I can be very stubborn about what I want and I know I've made a lot of people very concerned about my well being. For that I'm sorry in some aspects. I've always been a little too private with my feelings, and perhaps that's a good thing in some ways. I want to live my life on my own terms, my own way, that is difficult sometimes both for me, and the people around me.

I'm glad I waited and touched this up over a number of days. I hope it really is darkest just before the light.

Endless Days

There is something terrible about the prospect of endless days, they drift on forever like being becalmed on an ocean. It is no wonder that our oceans include becalming weather known as the doledrums. We are used to living lives where there are always things to be aiming for and things to do. We structure our lives around them, although in truth we structure them around our work. It's the fabric of our lives, the reason for getting up and getting out and doing. Without it what is there?

Friday I woke up and made some breakfast and thought about the things I needed to do. I checked the job sites and found the usual nothing awaiting. I considered a list of things, and thought, not one of them is urgent in the slightest. I I felt the emptiness of the day, I felt nothing. I went back to bed and put the radio on, played some games on the computer, and that was the day done. I spent it in bed trying to wait for the hours to pass.

Depression is like quicksand, it slowly envelops and suffocates you. Yet it has an almost seductive quality about it that lures you into its arms. There is a wonderful description in Shakespere's Hamelt of the drowing of Ophelia and they describe her sinking into the water, "her clothes heavy with drink". It is a beautiful description and one I still cherish. I feel very much alone in all this. There is a silence to depression which only makes those images of quicksand and waters all the more sensible. Perhaps I would be experiencing things differently if there were people here every day, but there are no people and the solitude grows heavy when the spirit dips.

I know I have wonderful friends who have leant me a lot of support, but it is hard to drag yourself out of this kind of inert state of mind. It is a physical thing too, limbs heavy like wading in deep water, there is slow progress and sometimes it seems better just to stop and surrender to the cold numbing feeling all around you.

I've got a home, a computer to write this on, I have some money - at least at the moment - so I have food in my cupboards, I have a place I can go when I can no longer stay living here. Sometimes it seems this is all just self pitying indulgence of someone who really should pull himself together and get on with things. I am trying to do this and I know that I will succeed in this endeavour. However there are times, a lot of times, when it is almost like the stopping of time, a life in stasis, over. It is these overwhelming times that are the most difficult to endure.

Sometimes I look and think there are probably a thousand decisions which could have changed things for the better so I wouldn't be here. The fact is I am and there's not a damn thing I can do about that. The things I wish didn't happen in my life did happen and there isn't anything I can do about what happend in the past. If Marx is right, perhaps I'm doomed to make the same mistakes, but the difference is in the fact that, once they are done, you do know how to deal with them. It won't make the coping mechanism perfect - if it did then I wouldn't need to write any of this - but it does at least give me a sense that there is a light at the end of the tunnel even when I can't see it in the darkest hour. Somehow I know it is out there.

Introspection Days

It's difficult sometimes to see the light at the end of a tunnel. This week the radio has been broadcasting a documentary on the issues a group of people are facing now they are unemployed. The programme is dealing with people who have been out of work for a lot longer than me. It's quite a strange feeling listening to others who seem to be experiencing the same kind of hopes and fears. I'm not one of those people who is reassured by the comfort of sharing feelings, hopes and fears, so I wasn't sure about this.

The people all got to spend time with a development coach, and one of them suggested that the person asked some of his friends to tell him something surprising about himself. The idea is that you may find others see in you qualities you fail to see in yourself. I've decided to do a similar thing and picked a selection of people I know in very different contexts so I can get a picture of the person people who know me more through the working environment and the social environment see me. I want to see if there are similarities and also if there are differences in how I behave in different environments. Additionally I'm hoping that some will be honest enough to say, "the thing that frustrates me about you is...". We shall see what the result is. There is every chance that not one of them will even reply. Let's just see what the outcome is.

It's the middle of June for some reason and I'm really not sure where the last few weeks have disappeared to. That said I suppose time is just moving imperceptably along. The sun is shining brightly and I'm supposed to enjoy this but as a fair skinned person I just find it rather uncomfortable. That said, I'll head out and see what the world has in store for me.

Radio Days

I've been listening to the radio and chatting to one of my online friends this morning. I have a number of people I've met who are in far flung places and it's nice to be able to talk to people whose perspectives on the world are totally different to mine. Some are nearby and some are thousands of miles away in places I cannot even imagine what their worlds are like. I remember when I was at school we were encouraged to find a pen pal - someone in a far flung place who you could exchange letters with and find out what kind of a life they had. I didn't have one but my sister did. I do spend some time talking like this. It's nice to do and it does help the day pass by without too much tedium. What I would like to say to all my friends is that their support (however little use they sometimes seem to feel it is) is very much appreciated. It's horrible when there is nothing you can do for someone but sometimes just being there really is enough. Knowing they are helps a great deal.

The radio is like a friend to me. I live alone and so, as I've mentioned before, there are times when I barely speak to a human being for ages. I listen to Radio 4 and music - depending on the programmes (as I don't like all of them). Today there was a programme about the experience of unemployment. It was a really interesting programme, sometimes it was like being in a support group with people articulating some of the things that I felt, and even expressed in this blog. It was quite a liberating experience to hear this. The other side was a lot more depressing.

I've long expected that the unemployment rate could rise to 3 million, and I've said here that the possibility of a recovery does not mean that people who have been directly affected by it will actually see the benefits for a long time afterwards. An expert predicted 3.5 million people being unemployed before things get better. She also indicated that these numbers would not start to fall until 2011. This seems an inconceivably distant timeframe to consider recovery. I feel at the moment that I'm in a situation where I am making do and getting by with my life and little more. If work isn't forthcoming, how do you manage to see a vast expanse of nothing spreading out before you which could last years? I felt like a ship, run aground on rocks in a storm and as a blot of lightning splits the sky, the ship groans and lurches further up splitting the bough, realising that the situation is much worse than you thought.

While listening to the programme I realised - as I do often - that this blog isn't here to represent the experiences of others. This is no "voice of the people" blog. I'm degree level educated (crap university, average pass rate), no family of my own and not even a partner, a critical mind. I do ask questions about everything which, particularly in a man, isn't something people tend to do. I don't want to say that the experiences are unique, they're not. I've had the same kind of bad deals that thousands of people have had. I am also older than some and facing my 45th year in a matter of weeks. Of all the things that get me down this month I think the "unemployed 45 year old" tag is probably the most depressing.

One thing is the stereotype of being an unemployed jobseeker. The difficulty is that people see jobseekers in a certain light. You are perceived as a failure in that you have had to resort to asking someone for money. People also assume that people on benefits are a certain kind of person. Educated people don't claim benefits, do they? Well yes, they do. The trouble is that the support network devised to help people also assumes the kind of help needed is of a rather remedial level. Help with writing a basic CV, literacy, and the like are the primary functions. Yes, when I'm at the job centre I do see people who are a lot less educated and some have an enormous amount of other issues to deal with which make things really hard. That said there is little that the Government is offering to people like me. We need support but it's not there. There is a real lack of understanding that resources do need to be provided, as some of us don't have masses of reserves to get us through this "difficult time". Yet we are lone voices calling for action, barking at the moon.

Endless Days

Sometimes time slips by almost unnoticed, and sometimes you are painfully aware of every minute. I've felt the minutes don't always sweep by sometimes. It's been a frustrating week and an up and down week. I spent a good deal of time telling the job centre person who signed me on, my landlord, and my father (in that order) that I have barely managed to apply for anything in the past week. It seems almost a waste of my time even looking for a job at the moment as there seems to be something close to a drought taking place in the market.

There have been some positives. I've purchased a new tin for baking my bread and made a pretty good loaf today. I've also had my CV jazzed up by the career coach and so it is a pretty flexible and exciting thing now. It's flexible enough for me to adapt it specifically for any particular job I wish to apply for. So, as the bread tin will make me sexier bread, I've sexier CV which should help target me towards the perfect job. We shall see if this all comes to pass in the next few weeks. You can see the results of the bread here.

It's difficult dealing with the fact that the job prospects have hit what I can only describe as drought proportions. I wish it were otherwise. It's difficult explaining to people that the current situation offers absolutely no prospects whatsoever. Especially when the people you are telling are your father and the man you pay the rent on your flat to. It's difficult accepting the recovery time seems to be stretching itself into next year now. People are just making do with the staff that they have and treating departures as an option to reduce costs and increase productivity. My surviving colleagues are apparently not enjoying the new role at all, but I still find it little consolation as I've nothing at all to complain about on that front as I've nothing to do.

Everyone always says that they would love to have the time to do whatever they like. Trouble is it takes money. Although I do get something from the Government, and I have some reserves, this isn't enough to keep you surviving for eternity so you end up watching carefully how much money you have and how much you are spending. It's not a good situation. The other difficulty is trying to motivate yourself. Nothing actually needs to be done at that instant. It can be done later. It doesn't matter. Eventually you find yourself in a state of inertia. The other week I managed to say to myself for 3 days I needed to leave the house and get some milk, as I'd run out. After 3 days I had to go out and do something else, so I got some milk then. I'd managed without it for 2 days. That's the biggest challenge I'm finding, getting some structure to my life. Sometimes it's there and then at other times I just can't find it anywhere at all.

Some days I can't even be bothered to enjoy the sunshine.

Another Week, Just Another Day

It has been something of a productive day today. I updated my CV and sent on the results to my Career Coach. I included my thoughts on producing a CV which would cover me for the possibilty of having a different one to target possible downgraded jobs. I don't need this just yet but it is something I need to look into sorting out for the future. My coach's response was that my approach to the situation was "considered". It's interesting how people perceive what your decisions are. To me this was an obvious thing to consider.

I've actually got 8 weeks to go before I have to start re-assessing my objectives with the Benefits Agency. For the first 13 weeks of a claim I'm permitted to spend my time looking for work in my specialist field. After that I have to broaden my search and make other considerations in order to try and find work. That's where the possibility of downsizing comes into play. Because I will be moving out of my home at a point sometime before the change is due to take place the terms of the agreement will be a little more straightforward. I've thought about these things earlier because of the events of the other week, so perhaps from heading into that dark place at that point may have produced a benefit.

I also checked out the storage options and think I may have found something which will suit my needs. I envisage that the process will involve storing things for about 3 months or maybe longer. I don't really want to head into 2010 with no home and my stuff in storage. If I can get a job quickly then things will be pretty managable in a short space of time. I won't exactly have a mass of overheads and there should be some money left from the final settlement and also there is the pension scheme. I was paying into a pension scheme whilst I was there but I cannot remember how much I was paying in. Due to the fact that the I was doing so for less than 2 years I will get the money I saved back as a little windfall after 8 weeks. I'm calculating that will be around the time of my birthday - so that is quite a nice little present. On top of that I should get back my deposit on my flat (or at least some of it) which again means I'm probably going to arrive in August in reasonable financial shape.

I'm being as frugal as possible with money. I'm not going out all that much and I'm still shopping sensibly so I am not spending vast ammounts of money. I am learning to live a frugal life. That side of it is probably proving quite a positive thing. It's funny doing without some of the things I take for granted but that's the way it has to be for a good while to come. I guess the one advantage is that it's healthy for me. I eat cheap fresh fruit and vegetables from the market and have time to cook really good food. Sometimes it's the simple pleasures which appeal - although the huge ammount of flat mushrooms I got for 50p the other day means I'm beginning to look like one... Oh well, they're very nice. Tomorrow they're going in an omlette for breakfast.

One of the terms of my redundancy is that I have some support from a professional career development company based in The City. I've had my initial meeting and now I've got a lot of self assessment exercises to complete. I've never really enjoyed staring back into the mirror as my forms of self reflection tend to be quite negative. I think the problem is that I see things differently this kind of approach as a positive exercise. To me introspection has always been my refuge from hapiness.

After this moment of self reflection I met with my career development coach on Thursday. It was a strange hour passed largely with me be funny and charming. His conculsions were that I need to re-vamp my CV and stick all the key achievements at the front of it so that all the key things a reruiter is looking for are there. The average CV is checked by a recruiter for an average of 15 seconds. They look for key factors and, if they don't see them in this time, they stop reading and your chance of progressing any further is gone. So that's the key ammendment. It's not much for the time I was there.

The coach listened to what I had to say and I just rambled on with the usual series of jokes and stories I tend to pepper my conversations with strangers. It's probably why people tend to remember having a conversation with me very clearly. People never forget my name, so it seems, although I must confess I have difficulty remembering the names of people and friends. It is something which has plagued me all my life. So, should you meet me, remember that I won't remember your name unless it's repeated about 3 times or I can recall something which will aid my memory.

His conclusion was that I should try as much as possible to get my foot in the door and do it face to face as I would be able to give people a better impression of who I am and what I can offer. It's probably true of some more maverick people that they do better this way. I suppose I really am one of those people who you have to see before you can really appreciate where it's at.

When I got home I was called about a job, which looked quite promising. The key skills covered things I'd done and the role would also stretch me due to the responsiblity encompassing the development of other trainers. It wasn't a directly managerial role, more one which permitted me to develop people and be responsible for that happening. I dared to dream for a while until speaking again to the agency the next day when we realised, not for the first time in my case, that I would need to be able to drive in order to get the job.

I'm seeing the world a lot more clearly at the moment. I'm able to see a little further down the line. Things like the possiblity of doing this is something of a bonus. I'm almost resigned to packing up and living a very small life for a few months while I get an idea of what exactly I can afford in the way of living and how that will all work out. I have to shut off the emotions about this and just live it without thinking too much about the loss. That's the price I'm paying for the greed and incompetence around me. There are things I could have done in order to change my circumstances but there are also ways in which there is virtually nothing I could have done to prevent this happening. I am just another victim of the downturn. It's just in my case it's going to be a steeper downward trajectory than some. That's what tends to happen in my life. The story isn't quite set in stone. Something totally unexpected could change all of this. Well, you never know.

Passing Days

It's been over a month. According to the man at the Benefits Office the money I get from the Government should be in my account today. It's also a few days before all the bills start being sucked out of my account - so I will have to luxuriate only briefly about the fact that money is in my account. The e-mail from totaljobs has just landed in my inbox just now. Life seems to go on.

I'm sitting writing this in bed this morning. I don't think I've done this before but I really didn't want to rush into things. I've just had some home made bread and coffee for breakfast and am thinking about what things I need to do today. The flat is a mess. I got up yesterday and stared at the world, then decided there was nothing I wanted to do. Days pass easily with the house filled with the sound of Radio 4. It's easy just to let them drift away easily as you get sucked into the tunnel of inertia and depression.

It's difficult to talk about and admit this. I am the product of a generation of people who could safely be described as living a life with a stiff upper lip. My parents were the product of the post-Victioran parentage which preserved that distance. Some (like my sisters) have rebelled and shower their children with affection. I, for a variety of reasons I am not going to discuss here, have always observed the personal world with an air of detachment. I've said before it's difficult for me to express this but depression leaves you numbed.

Part of the problem is the fact that I am alone. I've never found anyone to share my life with for, again, a variety of reasons. You do become quite insular in that situation and the older you get the more difficult it can become to break out of that. I guess I am quite selfish in that respect. As I've said to people about intellect and articulation, there is a danger of people thinking you're intellegent when you are merely able to express things well without a depth of knowledge, you can forget that sometimes you are being selfish when you feel that you are actually feel like you are asserting your independence. It's probably why I spend so much of my time with the radio on. I find television demands too much of my attention. I simply feel like have to give all my time to it, it is just not capable of being on in the background for me.

The radio provides voices and distractions from the fact that there is no one here to speak to. Yesterday I had a day spent alone. I did converse with people online and I had a conversation in the evening with one of my friends who called me. In total I actually spoke for about 2 minutes and that was it. I've always had a tendency to bury myself away from things when I am facing diffcult times. It is then that the days pass by. I went into my front room and looked at the CDs piled up - there's not quite enough room for them all on shelves - sitting there, gathering dust, and I suddenly felt my life is something like that. Slowly, imperceptably covering me in a white/grey powdering dust gradually choking me.