Life...It is a mental workout

 

                                                 

Here's the thing everyone has a body and every body is unique. The array of diversity in individual human beings is massive.  We come in various heights, weights, colours, shapes, sizes and all our bodies have varied capabilites some can run fast, some can swim, some can jump, some people are very athletic others not so much. Some are strong some are weak, some clumsy,  some are agile . Like I say our bodies are unique but then think about this due to the fact our cells are forever breaking down and regenerating even our own bodies are constantly changing. The body I have now is very different to the one I had when i was five or twenty one, my favourite body was the one I had in my forties, me and that body had a lot of fun. I am not so enamoured with my current body. 

Whatever our bodies look like they are all amazing in the things they can do. The ability to  see, hear, touch, smell and our bodies are brilliant in learning new things walking, running, cycling, driving a car, typing on a keyboard, writing, learning a sport and when our bodies learn new things, although it might take a while once we have mastered something we never forget...imagine trying to forget how to walk, ride a bike or drive a car. We tend to learn new tasks through repitition by doing something over and over again then something clicks and once our body has mastered the task it is like right I have got this, I can do it automatically, you just give me the signal. 

All our bodies are like that and here is another crazy thing despite the fact our bodies are unique they all have loads of stuff in common. The foundations the basic structures (though there is nothng basic about it we are all miracles) are the same. For the vast majority of us we all have arms, legs, eyes, ears, nose, teeth, heart, lungs, kidneys, hands, feet, fingers, toes, skin, hair, elbows, knees, blood etc etc This means we can all do the same kind of physical activities just to widely different levels.

I cannot run as fast as Usain Bolt or as far as Mo Farah but I can run. I cannot play football as well as Harry Kane, but I can kick a ball, I cannot fight like Fury or Joshua but I can throw a punch, I cannot race a car like Lewis Hamilton or race a bike like Chris Hoy but I can drive a car and ride a bike and if I want to improve what my body can do i have to train it. If I want to get fitter I can join a gym, if I want to learn to play an instrument I can take lessons the same if I want to learn to dance, put the work in and you can improve. The harder you work the easier things get,

So what about our minds? I have always been fascinated by how our they work, and for simplicity...in my own head i imagine our minds to be similar to our bodies all unique all constantly changing but having loads of things in common the foundations the structures as with our bodies are the same. So we all experience the same emotions just to different levels, we all get fearful we all get anxious, we all feel joy and sadness, despair and hope in our own unique way but we experience the same things.

I was thinking the other day, in the things that we do and the decisions we make, everything is prompted to varying degrees by our flight or fight response. It is that simple.

So when it comes to understanding ourselves and each other we should always pay more attention to the things we have in common as opposed to the things that make us different. We all have skin, what does it matter what colour it is. After all we all have blood and nobody is that fussed about it's colour. 

I love all the contradictions life throws at us on one hand we are unbelievably complex whilst at the same time quite simple and so obviously similar and I believe we are all linked. Diverse yet with so much in common. Think of raindrops, millions of individual raindrops falling from the sky but what happens when they fall into the sea?

In the same way our bodies learn new tasks like walking. cycling, driving  and learn them in such a way that once learned they are not forgotten... we create mental and emotional patterns in the same way, again just like new physical tasks these patterns become ingrained within us, largely through repitition.

Now one of the things I have always been frustrated about when it comes to our bodies is that we have no control in who we are physically attracted too. It can make life very complicated.

When it comes to our mental patterns what is very frustrating is that our minds do not distinguish between helpful patterns of behaviour and those types of behaviour that hinder us and that too makes life complicated.

As I say in the same way our bodies are forever changing and learning then the same goes on with our minds, so who are we? Who is the real me... I have a unique set of foundations and structures but then I have behavioural patterns shaped by every judgement that has ever been made about me, moulded by the society I live in where I constantly receive messages around how I should behave, what success looks like, what failure looks like.

As a youngster I was always told I wasn't good enough and that  I couldn't do things as a result when I became an adult for a long time I could not work out why I experienced a type of paralysis that stopped me doing things I really wanted to do. A classic example of this was when it came to asking out girls who I felt attracted to, a voice in my head was saying 'you'll never do it, you'll mess it up, she won't be interested in you' then sadly for me the flight response invariably kicked in and I ran away.  Looking back, I was always encouraged to favour flight over fight.

Unfortunately I was also bullied at school, I didn't reach puberty till I was 17 so going to an all boys secondary school was not pleasant. As I say I got bullied and I was constantly in flight mode so from there came my patterns of suicidal thoughts. Even though I would try to escape and hide from the bullies they always found me. After months of this I started to think about suicide, it is logical really, it is the ultimate hiding place the one place they won't find me, like I say though sadly that creates a pattern that just as with driving a car for my body... my body doesn't forget how to drive a car... my mind never forgets my suicide pattern. So annoyingly I have to face those thoughts whenever I am in a situation I find challenging, or often when I am feeling lonely. I think for the majority of people feeling lost and lonely go hand in hand with dark moods.

So how do I look after myself, well in all seriousness, I have always struggled with human society I feel it is built on lies and is corrupt but I am still here because I love life, I love the wonder of it, the mystery and I am absolutely fascinated by it and especially by how our minds work. Rightly or wrongly I feel I understand a lot and I think I can convey that to others in fairly simple terms.

I had ten years where I didn't work I spent most of my time on the internet trying to understand myself and unintentionally, in doing so, gaining a greater understanding of others.

We have to treat our minds in the same way we look after our bodies, I find it empowering to know I have a great deal of control as to my mental strength and fitness in the same way I have control over my body.

We don't have to join a gym to improve the fitness of our minds though because life is a mental workout and it is fascinating.

I have a few things that I fall back on to help me stay healthy.

Number One a quote by Voltaire

"Doubt is an uncomfortable condition but certainty is absurd"

 I love that quote it has been a massive help to me over the last 5 years. If you think about it you can only get extreme emotional or physical behaviours, if you have certainty in a particular belief,  zealous religious beliefs or fervent political leanings... without misguided certainty you cannot have extremism. Yet other than dying none of us can really be certain of anything. We definitely cannot be certain about what anyone else is thinking. Or whether our opinions are more worthy than anyone else's. I have loads of opinions but I am not certain of any of them.

Number Two

"Change the way you look at things and the things you look at change"

Like most humans I find it far easier to have negative thoughts and it is far easier to be lazy, sad and unmotivated than energetic happy and hopeful.

Let's think about negative thoughts, what fuels them. If 19 people tell you how well you look today and one person tells you, you look a state. It is more than likely you will focus on the one negative comment. So change the way you look at things and the things you look at change. 19 people said you look great, that is a good day...a bloody miraculous day in my case!

There is a narrative around today that says other people are responsible for how we feel about ourselves, they can certainly have an impact but ultimately we have the control and the stronger and healthier our minds the more control we have and the less impact others have.

Quick example 10 people in a day tell you, you're a banana. Do you go home worrying that you may in fact be a banana and you never knew? Of course you don't.

10 people in a day tell you that you are ugly, that's gonna be upsetting but only because we let it upset us. It plays on our doubts and insecurities but the same people who said you were ugly also thought you were a banana...so what do they know, really? 

Another example, I hate walking into a room full of people on my own, I feel a failure, society has told me from a very young age that successful adults have a partner as a result I feel incredibly insecure and I see myself as a loser who nobody will want to speak to. Here is the funny thing though I am quite comfortable delivering a presentation to a room full of people. I quite like performing but I don't see a room full of say 30 people. I see an audience as a singular. Change the way you look at things, the things you look at change and in turn so does the way you feel.

Number Three

The metaphorical million pound question.

I will let you into a secret, I have never been a fan of recovery language. I am much more into empowering language, encouraging positive self talk. Henry Ford said "Whether you say you can do something or whether you say you can't...you're probably going to be right."

If you continually tell yourself that you're not good enough and you can't do things  then those messages become a self fulfilling prophecy. I use the million pound question to combat some of my unwanted but automatic flight responses.

I first used it when I dabbled in hypnotherapy people would say "I want to quit smoking but I can't" or "I want to lose weight but I just can't" both of those statements are lies.There is a good reason for those lies though, none of us are comfortable with change and to make changes in our lives takes effort. Telling yourself you can't do something is much more final than saying you choose not to do something. In saying 'can't' you are abdicating your responsibility. If you can't you don't have to try.

So I would ask a smoker "On a scale of one to ten, how hard would it be to go a week without a cigarette?" Most would answer 9 or 10. So then I would ask them the metaphorical million pound question. "If I said you would be given a million pound if you went a week without a cigarette... on a scale of one to ten how hard would it be." Turned out everyone was sure they could do it for a million quid. The question, in a  subtle way, empowers people they are confronted with the realisation they have more control than they thought, it also ties in quite nicely with change the way you look at things and the things you look at change.

So when I feel I am struggling and feel i am never gonna get the hang of something or when i think i don't wanna be around anymore I ask myself the million pound question. "Gary, could you hang on for another week if you were gonna get a million quid at the end of it?" of course I could. 

At the turn of the year I started exercising. I exercise as soon as I get up not loads, just press ups and stomach exercises and though the imagery is not pleasant (so my apologies reader) I do squats in the shower. On the mornings I think I can't be bothered I say to myself Gary could you do it if there was a million quid in it for you as a result I have exercised pretty much every morning this year and it is becoming a helpful pattern. 

Number Four

"Every storm will pass"

 Around ten years ago I discovered a book called the Tao te Ching 81 verses supposedly written in China 2500 years ago it is a beautiful book, packed with wisdom and has helped me massively. I would recommend it to anyone interested in their mental fitness. Verse 23 is one of my favourites and says...

To talk little is natural. Fierce winds do not blow all morning, a downpour of rain does not last a day, Who does this, heaven and earth. But these are exaggerated forced effects and that is why they cannot be sustained...If heaven and earth cannot sustain a forced action, how much less is man able to do so?

I take from this that as human beings we cannot sustain an extreme emotional state, whether that is profound sadness, extreme outbursts of anger and violence, grief, despair, hopelessness. Without any intervention at all those feelings will pass in time, when I get really down I know from 50 years of experience that dark mood will pass and I find that comforting. 

Number Five

"Treat everyone as you would like to be treated yourself" a Buddhist take on this is... "Treat all life as though it were your mother in a previous life."

I know myself really well. I am kind, funny truthful and wise. I know I can also be unmotivated, I am pretty shallow at times and I get bored quite quickly. I am not the most sociable person. However  when I am around people I love them (for around 60 to 90 minutes) and I always try to be respectful, honest and kind. I think respect and honesty go hand in hand but some people can be uncomfortable with honesty, which is sad.

Number Six

Ultimately it's on me.

If I wanted to get get physically fitter I wouldn't give someone else my trainers and ask them to go running for me.

If I want to get fitter and stronger mentally it is up to me, other people can offer advice but my mental state is ultimately on me and I like that.

My happiness and state of mind is not someone else's responsibility it is mine, that is not to say other people can't help they can  and I really appreciate it when they do. By and large though other people only reinforce how I feel about myself. For instance rightly or wrongly I believe I am a good writer better than most... if other people praise my writing it makes me feel good, if they say I am a crap writer I don't care they may as well be claiming I am a banana! Conversely I feel a failure because I am single and live at home with my parents. If people told me I wasn't a failure I wouldn't believe them. Whereas if someone told me I was a pathetic loser it would strike a nerve. However I have got stronger and negative comments do not affect me as much as they used to so one day I want to walk into a social gathering on my own feeling as happy and confident as I did when I was in a relationship. I haven't got there yet but I know it is possible.

Number Seven

I really enjoy writing :-) it is kinda like counselling myself.

Chapters 6 and 7 The Life and Times Times of Eddie Beagle

 HONEYMOON

We had a brilliant honeymoon, Menorca is definitely my favourite place in the world, just pipping Whittlesey! Back in 1997 I had been to Sydney and that was amazing also but it is too far to visit on a regular basis. So for me Menorca has the edge, I would loved to have been born in Menorca it would have made me a Wright Quan.  

Although, as I have said before, we were often a bit volatile, me and the wife always got on really well on holidays and Menorca was beautiful, I felt so relaxed there, we stayed at a place called Cala Galdana and I absolutely loved it. If it wasn't for Jo I would never have visited these places, never got to experience married life, never got Eddie. So I have a lot to be grateful to her for. 

Though I had been to Menorca once before, I had dated a girl called Lisa from the Land Registry for around six months. Early in our relationship we went to Malta and towards the end we had gone to Menorca and stayed in a place called Binibeca. I had a fantastic time there. Unfortunately I was so enthralled by the beauty of my surroundings I did not realise that Lisa was spending most of her time on her mobile, in contact with her ex-husband and when we got home she dumped me and went back to him. Much to the delight of her parents who had, unjustifiably in my opinion, hated me right from the start. I wasn't that bothered in fairness but I was sad that I might never get back to Menorca. Holidaying alone is something that has never appealed, I don't have the confidence. As things turned out within a few years I was going back to the island with a wife of my own.

I really like the Spanish people they always seem very friendly, accommodating and patient they put up with pretty much every British person they see smiling and shouting 'Ola' at them as they walk along feeling all bilingual. I was very guilty of this myself, though I had also mastered "Dónde puedo apostar?" (where can I place a bet) along with 'Boners dears' and 'boners nacho's'. 

 I have always tried to make an effort where foreign languages are concerned. In later life I had a short lived relationship with a Latvian woman and learned to say "cibas" (slippers) and "ar labunakti" (goodnight). As I say it was not a long relationship I think all the excitement got too much for us both!?

So married life started off well for me and Jo, we had a hotel room with a balcony and a sea view it was idyllic. The hotel staff were lovely and halfway through the honeymoon the waitresses seemed to take a real shine to me. I was not surprised I had a confidence and swagger about me that I never had when I was single and I was happy. Out of the corner of my eye I would often catch them huddled together pointing in my direction and giggling, they began to jokingly refer to me as Mr T!?  

The reason being I am not and never have been a drinker so when they offered me wine with my evening meal, they found it odd and obviously very amusing that I preferred a cup of tea. "Tea?" they would say giving me an incredulous look before  repeating in a bewildered tone "Tea!?" Once I confirmed that yes I would like a cup of tea they looked sympathetically at Jo (who loved her wine) before walking off smiling and shaking their heads.

The hotel had a beautiful pool and as I have always had a thing about the Mediterranean look (long dark hair, olive skin) I loved laying in the sun gazing in wonder at the topless Spanish beauties, while Jo was swimming in the pool. Jo would regularly do 30 lengths she was an excellent swimmer, helped in no small part by her most impressive, 100% natural, inbuilt bouyancy aids. 

Along with many other amenities there was also a spa so one day Jo and I thought we would treat ourselves to a 'couples' massage, it wasn't great to be fair, though I am not sure what I was expecting. As it turned out we lay on adjacent massage tables while a lone masseuse gave us a rub down. She would do Jo for a couple of minutes then turn and do me for a couple of minutes alternating this way for an hour. I have to be honest the bits where I was getting massaged were nice but just as I started to relax she would leave me hanging and do the wife for a bit. I think Jo felt equally disappointed.

One night we returned to our room after a romantic evening stroll around the bay to find a Spanish, Police tribute band playing on a stage directly beneath our balcony. I guess I should clarify, as sometimes my punctuation lets me down, that they were playing songs by Sting's old band The Police and all the members of the tribute band were Spanish. It was not a band playing songs in tribute to the Spanish Police. The trio were excellent and it was a brilliant way to end the night. As we lay in bed I whispered romantically into the wife's lug hole "da do do do da dah dah dah"

"You what husband?"

"That's all I wanted to say."

Once we were entering the final few days of our holiday our thoughts began to turn to going home, it is always a bit depressing when a holiday is coming to an end but the big bright spot was knowing that we would soon be reunited with Eddie, well it was a big bright spot for me. I really would not have wanted to go home otherwise. The thought of seeing Ed made the flight home so much easier.

When we got home Eddie was so pleased to see us he went running round and round the house squealing with delight. I had never been greeted in such a way before his sheer uninhibited delight just melted my heart. 

Eddie's joy certainly compensated for our driveway being covered in cat poo. The neighbours, understandably, had not taken to Michael and Ambrose shitting in their garden and while the wife and I had been in Menorca, blissfully unaware, nextdoor had been collecting up cat shit and scattering it all around our gravelled front way. I thought they were behaving very immaturely so the next day I got some cardboard and knocked up a very shoddy Blue Peter type construction. On the front I wrote FELINE TOILET  in brackets (Please defeCATe here) and I stood it outside facing the neighbours house. I felt it showed I was making an effort, I was giving the cats an alternative option when deciding where they wished to do a dump.

I fully appreciate that cats are very annoying with where they choose to crap but that is their nature they are very independent. The neighbours had not even spoke to us about it before declaring  Turd World War in our absence. I think they may have been a little aggrieved that I had asked my parents and not them to look after Eddie, while we were honeymooning.

CHAPTER SEVEN

"OH SHIT!"

The winter of 2007 was pretty chilly. Eddie was now, at last, able to go for walks. Due to the fact I liked to be at work for 7 a.m.  I would get up around five in order to give the tubby beagle or 'Tubster' as I had taken to calling him a good long walk, he certainly needed the exercise. It was a brilliant start to the day just me and Eddie roaming the dark, mostly deserted, streets of Whittlesey.

Though I loved our walks, I did feel that as I wanted to be at work for seven (I was lucky in that The Land Registry operated a flexi-time system so if I got in early I could leave around three) I felt Eddie could probably do with a bit more exercise and so I formed a plan. For Valentines day the previous year Jo had bought me a Mountain Bike and I had got her a chiminea for the garden, romantic eh!? 

Well I did not get out on the bike that much so I thought, 'kill two birds with one stone', in the mornings, as there was hardly anyone about I could ride the bike and Ed could jog along beside me, then in the evenings we could walk together.

Luckily, when we began the experiment there was quite a covering of snow on the ground. I would have Eddie on the extendable lead and set off at a leisurely pace. Now the thing with beagles is, they are not very well behaved and they do like to run. Once we turned out of our cul-de-sac Ed took off "oh shit!" in a matter of seconds the lead had stretched as far as it could go, I tried to brake to regain some control but hit the front brake instead of the rear  and over the handlebars I went, landing on my back and looking up at the stars, fortunately the snow broke my fall. Then a beagles confused face appeared looking down at me as if to say "What are you doing down there? That extendable lead just whacked me on the back of the head you know?" 

"Sorry mate" I said, giving his head a rub. "Let's try again." 

After a couple of weeks and several more flights over the handlebars, I decided it was probably best to go back to walking. Bikes and Beagles didn't mix.

As the mornings got lighter we started walking around the brick pits, strictly speaking it was trespassing but lots of dog walkers did it and as they say "When in Rome...or Whittlesey in this case." Those early morning walks, as we were entering Spring were just gorgeous, I could let Ed off the lead and he would chase rabbits, with me safe in the knowledge he would never catch one. If he wasn't charging around after the wildlife he was lagging behind taking in the sights and smells. I used to love the sound of him chasing after me. I didn't have to look back I could hear him racing up behind me then he would put the brakes on just as he got to me, which would result in him skidding to a halt once he had gone about 15ft past, he would then turn around and walk back to me, wagging his tail. It was a perfect time the bond we had was so special. 

In my later years, many things fell into place around why I found human relationships very difficult. I could never really let my guard down, I never trusted people and always expected to lose or get hurt eventually. I could never accept another person could love me. Eddie just bounded through all the walls I put up and was a constant during the happiest years of my life the only years I actually 'lived life'.

One of the many benefits of living in Whittlesey at that time was the surrounding countryside there were so many walks, where you could be in touch with nature, be right away from it all in a matter of minutes. Now like most Beagles, Eddie was pretty greedy and one of his annoying habits was that he was forever picking up  all manner of stuff  and eating it.  I despaired by and large I gave up saying "drop it!" or "Eddie No!". 

One day though, while out in the middle of nowhere and on a day where Ed looked particularly tubby, I put my foot down. Eddie was rummaging around close to some bushes when I saw him pick something up. "Right Edward enough is enough...drop it!" I held out my hand under his mouth. "Drop it!" Ed kept his jaw clamped shut. "Not today young man" I said "Not today" I began to try to prise open Eddie's mouth. Ed took pity on me and deciding he would let me win this time, relaxed his grip dropping the contents of his mouth into the palm of my hand. "Good boy" I praised him. "Well d...oh shit!" I realised I was now holding a ball of dog saliva coated horse poo. "Oh for fucks sake!" I exclaimed throwing the shit away. Ed looked at me as if to say 'Now what's your problem... I did want you wanted'.

My hand was covered in crap, rustling through my pockets with my one clean hand ,I realised I had no tissues, (something that never happened when I was a lonely singleton) I tried wiping my hand on the grass, but the grass was damp, I hoped it was due to dew and not horse piss, either way I only succeeded in spreading it around my hand rather than removing it. So I had to walk all the way home with a black turd print on my right hand. I hoped people would not suspect me of being in The Black Hand Gang!?  I was also reminded of Blind Pew from Treasure Island, the fearful beggar who delivered black spots to Pirates signalling their imminent deaths. Though in my case it was more Blind Poo (groan).

All this time Eddie walked jauntily along beside me, he seemed to have a real spring in his step, the little sod. "Look at my bloody hand Edward" I said as we walked along the streets of Whittlesey towards home, Eddie just wagged his tail.

"Mawninbiggleboiy" waved one of the old fella's  who I saw most days.

"Morning" I waved.

Oh shit!

I could almost hear Eddie laughing. 

 KEEP FLYING THE WHITE FLAG

As our bleak little lives unfurl, we stumble our way through this violent and greed filled world. Laughing and joking putting on an act, pretending to be happy, when we're up to our necks in crap.

You're judged by the size of your wallet, if there's a lie to be told, the successful will tell it. The rich look down on the poor and the poor hate the rich cuz the rich have more.

I often think that life is one long piss-take, nothing seems real to me, it all feels fake. Every time you think you've sussed it and got it beat, it rises up knocks you down and kicks out your teeth.

I know I've got a lot, I should be happy but I'm not. Everything seems so trivial, so much value placed on material. Too many knives poised at too many backs. Authenticity and kindness society seems to lack.

You tell me 'look at the good it has' to me that's like waving the white flag.

I'd like to change the world, see a light at the end of this long night but I'm too pissed to raise my head so I guess I will stay here in my bed. Dreaming of how wonderful life should and could be, then the news comes on the TV, destruction and violence is all I see. So many reasons to take a life the hate filled assuming they have that right, their minds are so far off track I can't see how you'd get them back.

I'd like to change the world, see some light at the end of this long night but I'm just too pissed to raise my head, so I guess I'll stay here in my bed.

Doing no good, doing no bad and wrapped up tight in my white flag.

Communication...the eyes have it

 Years ago I did a course on hypnotherapy and actually qualified to be a hypnotherapist, one of the first things we were taught is how we communicate. 38% tone voice modulation 55% body movements, facial expressions, arm gestures etc and only 7% of the way we communicate comes down to words.
So when it comes to learning the truth your eyes are far more important than your ears.
Years ago I asked a question on FB "what is easier to fake love or lust?" and was genuinely amazed that many people argued lust was easier to fake. I think many people would like to believe that but I don't see how it is possible to fake lust, one of my mates summed it up best when he said "how the hell do you fake a hard on?" lust is visual your eyes don't lie. Words on the other hand, it is easy to lie with words, you can tell anyone you love them.
We are living in strange times, where people can see things going on, yet an authority figure or those in the media can describe something completely different is happening and people choose to believe the words, rather than what they can actually see taking place.
It is strange isn't it? I am sure we have all been in relationships, where everything we see points to something being wrong but we choose to believe our partners re-assuring words. Many have been in a situation where at their core they know their partner is cheating on them but when the person denies it we accept it as that is what we want to believe.
There must have been a time in the development of humans where our earliest ancestors did not have language, we did not have words, I think they must have been far more honest times. Make no mistake without words they could still have been able to communicate, it would just have been on a different level. A level that we have lost touch with or maybe more accurately, lost trust in. Many times we sit with close friends, partners, family members and instinctively know what they are thinking. We can share private jokes convey thoughts just with a look our a gesture.
The other one that fascinates me is how we communicate with our pets, we develop a deep emotional connection a connection that in my own case has always felt pure and uncomplicated, in many cases words detract from that purity within human relationships. Trust me pet owners know what there pets are thinking, just as pets are aware of what their humans are thinking, now how does that work? I find it amazing.
I am never quite sure how many people get to see my posts but some of you know I am currently writing a novel about my late dog Eddie, honestly his death and life affected me so much. Our connection was so strong, he couldn't speak a word yet he managed to make me feel more loved than any other living thing ever has.
So with regards to how us humans communicate, how difficult would it be to lie and mislead without the use of words?
It is funny isn't when it comes to truth many times it is our ears that blind us, our desire to believe the words of others when their actions are giving out a totally different message.
I have always felt we should trust our eyes and our feelings our gut instincts much more than we do but from my own experience I feel that probably makes life harder, especially in my case, when it comes to human relationships. Having said that I do have some very good friends and I have shared time and experiences with some lovely people.
It would be fascinating to do a Big Brother type experiment where you lock a group of people in a house for a period of time and see how they get on if they cannot use spoken or written words.

CHAPTER FIVE TYING THE KNOT

 

CHAPTER FIVE

TYING THE KNOT

During the month of July I had my 41st birthday Ed was convalescing and me and Jo were putting the final touches to our wedding plans, again it was all very hectic but it was so good to feel alive to feel part of something. I say that, me and Jo were very volatile, we were both, let's say 'complicated' characters. Looking back I might not have got married if it wasn't for Ed. Unfortunately for me I am one of life's worriers and have to constantly fight the voices in my head that are looking for reasons not to do things rather than just dive in. Jo was just the opposite. At times our characters worked quite well together the flip side was we had quite a lot of rows. I think Jo found me a frustrating person to argue with as I rarely lose my temper and certainly not with a woman.

Jo had been married before to Bob the Elton John lookalike, she had left him for a woman. When Jo had told me she was bisexual, i quite liked the idea of that, a bisexual hairdresser how very glamorous I thought, very exotic, nearly as good as a stripper. Full disclosure I was thinking threesomes! You have to remember I had led a very frustrating life.

Up until the age of thirty I had been condemned to live like a monk, thinking about religion though I should imagine monk's got more action. My crime, I was nice, too nice where the majority of ladies were concerned, especially the type I was attracted too. I was complicit in my celibacy, I was painfully shy, had zero self-confidence and regarded myself as worthless. Plus I had a problem with my foreskin (you weren't expecting that were you reader) it was ridiculously tight but even though I had plucked up the courage to express these concerns to my doctor when I was 16 I did not get a circumcision operation till I was 25. I carry a lot of bitterness and resentment about that.

Coupled with my lack of confidence, whenever women did show an interest, i just got swallowed up by fear and my own insecurities. Though much of the time the girls who fancied me were too nice. The irony is not lost on me!

In my first job though I had worked in a betting office the manager at the time was also called Joanne and I think the only thing stopping me there were concerns over my cock. Looking back I think if I could have had a normal happy life with anyone, she was probably the one it could have been with.

OK so back to July 2006, Ed was doing ok, though he was not allowed to go for walks and he was taking loads of steroids. I think I missed our walks just as much as he did. Due to the nature of my relationship, taking Ed for a walk often relieved a lot of pressure. I missed the "Mawninbiggleboiys" and the idle chit chat with random Whittlesey residents, at the time the majority of the residents of Whittlesey could be described as a bit random. I love Whittlesey people though, my Mums family are from Whittlesey.

Another thing Whittlesey had going for it and I should not really say this in a chapter about the run up to my wedding but there were lots of gorgeous women in Whittlesey. It was only a small town but it had an unusually large number of pubs and more importantly as far as i was concerned, hairdressing salons. There were some incredibly sexy looking women living in Whittlesey, yes indeedy Whittlesey was my kinda town.

So poor Ed was not getting any exercise, he was having to take loads of steroids and he loved to eat, not a good combination for an already big boned beagle. Plus he had to endure all the madness going on around him in the run up too the marriage. He did have Michael to keep him company though. After a turbulent start, they now got on pretty well and often I would find them sat together at the living room window...looking out, turning their backs on the chaos.

Jo was going to be married in a kind of plum coloured dress. I was very pleased with myself as I had channelled my inner Gok Wan and picked up a suit for £35 from Westgate House, it was black with a plummy coloured pinstripe. I was thinking colour co-ordination.

We got married at Peterborough Registry Office, with friends and family in attendance. G and my nieces were bridesmaids and the service went very smoothly, though Jo did struggle to get my ring over my knuckle, then of course it was loose. I had to take it off when we got home, it looked ridiculous, like a big bangle on a thin wrist.

After the service I popped home to check on Ed then went on to a pre-arranged meal for a few close friends and family, in a local restaurant, there were only about twenty people there and that is where we did the speeches. I don't actually mind standing up and talking to an audience, which is a bit odd considering my lack of confidence in most other areas of my life.

I had been best man once before for my mate Steve and I had been cool with that (once i started talking). He had his reception in a sort of converted barn out in the countryside and halfway through the reception a goat wandered in.

"Gary there is a goat" he pointed out.

"Oh yea" I said and smiled... animals always make me smile.

"Well?" said Steve.

"Well what?"

"Well...get rid of it"

"Why me?"

"Cuz you're the best man!"

I guess I could have argued that I knew i had to look after the rings, I knew I had to make a speech, tell the bridesmaids how lovely they looked, read out some congratulatory messages and toast the bride and groom but nowhere on my list of duties did it specify 'Remove goat from reception hall' but I felt that would be unnecessarily pedantic on Steve's big day so I set about shooing Billy Goat Gruff from the hall before he set his sights on the nibbles.

Anyway back to my own nuptials once the cosy after service meal had finished. I once again headed home to check on Ed, before getting ready for the evening reception at the Peterborough Rugby Club to which a larger group of people had been invited. Now that event did not go as smoothly as the meal. When we got there we realised there was another party going on for a load of Rugby Players! I would have preferred a herd of goats if I am being honest. I thought "Oh shit! Once they see all Jo's hairdresser friends all hair and boobs (some natural some fake, surprisingly it was around a 50/50 split) things could get messy." Added to that complication the DJ didn't turn up, this was very upsetting for Jo but I said 'don't worry me and my mate Kev will do it.' My mate Kev who was drinking a pint and chatting up one of the sexy Land Registry ladies I had invited said "What!?" I got the impression he wasn't keen on being Smashy to my Nicey, or maybe he had better things to do.

So I got on the phone to the company who were meant to supply the DJ. They apologised and said they would take 50% off the fee. I told them I wasn't paying 50% when he hadn't even turned up! "My wife is hysterical" i said. The fellow on the end of the line obviously fancied himself as a comedian and asked if I was marrying Catherine of Aragon?

"What!?" I found myself quoting Kev. "No not historical...hysterical!" I said in my most manly tone.

Anyway the DJ control centre sent out an emergency DJ who arrived about an hour later than the original had been scheduled to begin and the rest of the night went quite well... other than the bride and grooms dance! Now because I don't really like dancing, I get quite self conscious, Jo had agreed that I could choose the song. Well when I say I didn't like dancing I didn't mind the odd bit of raving. However, No Good by Prodigy, I felt probably was not appropriate. I still found myself in my new wife's bad books though. I could tell as we danced to Masterplan by Oasis that she had been expecting something more romantic. I looked out at the crowd which had circled around us as we danced and noticed that many of the hairdresser types were shaking their heads. Not good!

Once we had got the dance out of the way i wanted to get home to see how Ed was, which was understandable as the very next morning the wife and I were setting off to honeymoon on the beautiful island of Menorca and knew I was really going to miss him.

CHAPTER FOUR A HUMP IN THE ROAD

 

"Edward NO!"

"What's he doing?"

"He's humping again"

"Oh no what this time"

"Your slippers husband"

"Oh for God's sake"

In the summer of 2006 we were planning, a wedding, a honeymoon and the most painful cut of all for little Ed. Well not so little now Eddie was pretty big for a beagle, we knew he was going to be, he'd been fat...he'd been big boned since he'd been born, his paws were huge in comparison to the rest of him when we had first bought him home, back in January. Gradually we had got Ed's chewing under control. Well after a little spell, where he realised that as he had grown he could now reach the washing line. I would hear the wife yelling when she looked through the kitchen window at the freshly washed clothes out drying on the line, only to se a beagle puppy furiously tugging away at one of her bra's trying to pull it off. They say dogs take after their owners and it was apparent Ed had very similar traits to me. Thankfully Jo's bra's where built with big puppies in mind (34G Happy days) and Ed was unsuccessful in his attempt to get it off and run off with it. Like i said me and Ed had much in common. However after Jo had chastised him a few times he seemed to get the message, he had my sympathies! The wife's vocal chords were as big as her knockers. My theory was that being a hairdresser she had spent her adult life talking (she did talk a lot) over the sound of a hairdryer so her voice was loud at the best of times. When she shouted planes flying overhead experienced turbulence. I often thought if she went out in the garden and shouted Fe Fi Fo Fum the inhabitants of Whittlesey would look nervously skyward for signs of a beanstalk.

So, as I say Ed had gradually got the message about chewing, but had progressed from chewing to humping, he humped his soft toys, he humped towels, cushions on the sofa...he once tried to hump Michael and received a scratched nose for his over enthusiastic sexual impropriety. Nothing was out of bounds for Ed, he would hump anything. I think it was partly why the mother-in-law moved out. It was difficult to concentrate on what was going on in Emmerdale or the streets of Weatherfield while a rampant young beagle was attempting to hump your leg!? In fairness I am using a bit of poetic license there Ed did not tend to hump people, soft furnishings were where his thrusting preferences lay.

Soon to be married life was very full, Jo was a brilliant organiser she did most of the planning for our wedding and booked up the honeymoon, during our relationship Jo booked all our holidays, she was quite a force of nature in that regard. We had regular holidays and weekends away, she made sure we always had something to look forward too. I am always grateful to her for that. I however was left to sort out Eddie's operation, it was such a difficult decision but his humping was not really doing him any favours. I toyed with the idea of leaving it a bit longer but I was thinking along the lines of what you never have you can't miss. It is another decision I regret. Ed was booked in to have the cruelest cut very early in his life. His op was in July and me and the wife were getting married on the first of September.

Little Ed had his operation and was in and out on the same day, obviously he was a little sore but other than that he seemed fine. A couple of days later I came home from work and Jo had three friends round... all male!? Obviously I was not happy Ed was supposed to be convalescing he did not want my missus entertaining a trio of Whittlesey blokes!

"What were you thinking of?" I said after they had gone "Ed is supposed to be resting and we are off to watch a Shakespeare play tonight". The Land Registry had organised a trip to go and see The Twelfth Night at some outdoor venue and I had booked us a couple of seats. "Where is Ed anyway" The wife said he was in the conservatory. When I went to see him I got a real shock he looked terrible, he hardly moved other than to half-heartedly wag his tail. "Has he been like this all day?" Jo said he had been a bit quiet but put it down to his recent op. I was not happy and a bit unsure it was possible it could be because of his op and I knew I was a bit of a worrier. So we initially set off to go to the play, when we got to the bus though I couldn't do it. I told Jo we were going home I wasn't gonna risk leaving Ed on his own for four hours. We rushed back home and I sat up all night with Ed and the next morning we took him to the vets first thing.

Now apparently there is a thing called Beagle Pain Syndrome where the bodies virus fighting cells turn on themselves and this can be triggered by an illness or an operation and that was what was happening to Ed, it isn't very pleasant but it can be treated with a high dose of steroids. Unfortunately for us and especially Eddie the symptoms are very similar to meningitis and Eddie was insured... so the vets told us Ed had to go to hospital and have a spinal tap to rule meningitis out. They initially made no mention of Beagle Pain Syndrome they only told us about that after he had gone through the operation and spent a couple of days in hospital. I was really pissed off, if I had been given all the information I would have insisted they treat him for Beagle Pain Syndrome, especially as it seemed obvious this had all been triggered by me getting him neutered.

Poor Ed had to go on a high steroid dose for around four months, that is a lot of steroids and as I have previously stated he was big before he went on them. I was a bit disillusioned and very annoyed that he had been given painful invasive surgery which I think was unnecessary. I am sure had we not be insured they would not have done the Spinal Tap.

For the first time but not the last I had let him down.

CHAPTER THREE "EDWARD NO!"

 

"Edward No!"

"What's he doing now?"

"Only chewed my glasses!...the little sod"

The first few months in our posh new home were a tad trying, but deep down, for the first time in my life my base mood was happy. As a single person my base mood was sadness and frustration but i would have some really happy days. Now my base was happy but had the occasional bad day. It was a huge difference. I had to pinch myself at times, I had everything I had ever wanted. A lovely house, a fiance, a step-daughter, a job I enjoyed, a couple of cats and a naughty beagle, who was rapidly becoming the most important thing in my life.

In fairness to Eddie he picked up toilet training really quickly, very early on in his life he would start wandering over to the door and tapping on it, when he needed to go outside, he wouldn't bark or yap he would stand patiently tapping on the door with his paw until someone let him out. In that regard he was an absolute star. Where we had a bit of a problem was with him chewing...he wasn't picky he would chew whatever he could get hold of.

Family life did take a bit of getting used to, as I mentioned before I had never been a fan of children, even when I was a child myself they were not really my cup of tea. My first year at infants school I tried to run away every chance i got. I think the guards / teachers used to take turns in chasing me as I made my daily bolt for the gate in a futile bid for freedom. I was like a mini Steve McQueen in the Great Escape, my attempts always ended with me dying on barbed wire, metaphorically speaking obviously...it was infants school! It was once I started senior school that life became very frightening and violent.

So I did struggle with G, she was 9/10 years old and a bit complicated but having Ed around helped me enormously. A puppy just takes so much stress out of life. I often say dogs are just brilliant at neutralising stress. You come home grumpy after a bad day and your dog comes running to the door squealing and yapping with a look of pure joy on his face, your grumpiness just melts away. I have said on many occasions, in my advancing years, Eddie was the only living thing who managed to convince me I was loved.

As I say getting things right with G was difficult but I think I did ok. Every other weekend she would go to her dads, which helped. When I first met her Dad I was quite taken aback as he was a dead ringer for Elton John. Jo must have had a thing for the middle-of-the-road ageing popstar look, as much to my chagrin, once I started losing my hair many people compared me to Phil fucking Collins! On the plus side I guess I'd rather that than Elton John. Me and G's dad did not really get along but I guess it was a strange situation for both of us and to be fair the speed of which me and Jo went headlong into our relationship would be disconcerting for G and her Dad. The first time G met me, me and her Mum were already engaged!!

A further complication was that after a couple of months of living together Jo's Mum got divorced and came to live with us supposedly for a short, but worryingly for me unspecified, period of time. If we didn't have the cats and especially Ed I would have been losing the plot. Whenever i felt like i was losing control I would just spend some time with my boy and i'd be fine. Although I would get quite discombobulated, when I would walk into the living room of an evening and the wife (after we got engaged me and Jo had taken to calling each other 'husband' and 'wife' with me being husband and her being wife) the wife would ask me to sit on the sofa with her and her Mum to watch Coronation Street!? I would assess the situation. Ignoring the fact I could not stand Coronation Street. The wife was sat at one end of the sofa the mother-in-law was sat at the other end so the only space available was the middle seat. "Hang on a minute" the voice in my head raged. "You are the man of the house...the man of the house does not sit in the middle seat!" I am sure all men of the house would agree with me. The wife still got visibly annoyed when i politely declined scooped up Eddie and went upstairs to the spare room to watch the footy and play fight Eddie he would chew away at my fingers and I would have a permanent smile on my face just looking at him.

As I have previously mentioned we moved in at the end of January and for six weeks I did not get a sniff of a winner on the horses. I have always been a gambler I was never particularly good at it but this was a terrible run, we were into March, Cheltenham was coming up and I started to think I was never gonna get another winner. I convinced myself I had used up all my luck meeting Jo and getting Ed I went to the local Ladbrokes and did a double...which later in the day came in and I won £800 Get in!

Ed was now old enough that we could start going out for walks. I have to say I loved walking the streets of Whittlesey with him. The place was so much nicer than Peterborough, it was a bit like going back in time most people chatted, not surprising really Eddie was ridiculously cute and lots of people wanted to say hello. Maybe it was because I had spent much of my childhood there, maybe because it was not very multi-cultural at the time... agricultural yes but not very multi-cultural, whatever the reason I just felt really at home and really safe in Whittlesey, it sure beat the hell out of Woodston! After a few months a few of the older male residents of Whittlesey got to calling out "Mawninbiggleboiy" which I took to mean 'Morning Beagle Boy' as me and Eddie wandered by "Good Morning" I would wave back, it was a magical time for me.

During the first six months of Eddie's life he would sleep downstairs in the kitchen, well a little room just off the kitchen, which we later turned into a hairdressing salon when Jo set up business on her own. Eddie was never too keen on this set up and I went down one morning to find he had eaten one of my training shoes. Nikes!

The wife shouted down from upstairs. "What are you yelling about husband? We are trying to sleep up here"

"Eddie" I said "He has eaten my shoe!"

"Eaten your shoe?"

"Yes the little bastard"

"What all of it?"

"Well no not all of it the sole is still there but that ain't much use on it's own is it?"

I looked down at him and smiled "You rotten little git, you have to stop eating everything, you will make yourself ill, you wanna sleep upstairs don't you?" Ed started wagging his tail. I gave him his breakfast and then we went out for our morning walk.

"Mawninbiggleboiy...why you only wearing one shoe then?" (Not really I made that bit up.)