Tanks for the memories


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I’m tired. Really tired.

It’s been another long day at my mom’s bungalow, with more caches of stamps, photos of my childhood (and my lovely little dog) that make me sad, letters dredging up old conflicts, bags of old medicine dating back as far as 1975 and more trips to the tip.

The funeral is also getting closer and its weighing down on me. I’m stressing about meeting relatives I haven’t seen for 25 years and wondering how they will judge me for being so overweight. It shouldn’t matter to me but it does.

I’m in poor humour, and I can tell that the affable frame of mind I started the day with is teetering on the brink. I feel like I want to snap at people for no good reason, and that annoys me, making the whole thing worse than it really is. Several weeks ago I’d be going home to a glass of wine, and not stopping until I fell asleep.

I’m clearly not yet at the point where I have stopped thinking about getting drunk. This realisation is currently annoying me further, because it means i’m fallible and i don’t want to be. Now I have to deal with the emotion that life throws at me and not bury it, which is going to take some getting used to.

I finally threw my toys out of the pram about two hours ago and demanded that we call it a day and go home. In my mind’s eye the preferred mode of transportation would have been a tank, and my navigation would involve only a straight line, laying waste to everything in my path until I smashed through the front wall and arrived in my kitchen, grabbing a cold one from the fridge. Sadly my elderly VW Passat doesn’t have the destructive capacity required for my fantasy journey, so we’d have to take the less direct route to my house.

Various boxes of unused cleaning products, shampoo, soap, shower gel, unused toothbrushes, photographs and documents were loaded into the car, and we locked up for the day.

The journey home didn’t start well. As I pulled away in the car my brother Pete’s coffee tipped over and liberally covered him. He wasn’t happy.

My dad thankfully was in a conciliatory frame of mind and did his best to change the topic and provide mediation. He’s good like that sometimes – somehow managing to remain calm where my brother and I fail to.

The car was filled with his voice for 10 mins as i drove through the country roads and over the motorway, passing a garden centre that I mentally bookmarked for a future visit.

Then unexpectedly my brother said ‘I was going to ask you not to feature me in your blog posts, but now I’ve changed my mind. Put me in there if you want. Write what you need to.’

‘I’m annoyed’ I said. ‘I wanted to write a happy post tonight – and now i’m just pissed off.’

‘Don’t think about it’ he replied. ‘Write what you feel.’

Irritatingly he’d hit the nail on the head.

Not saying how I feel is what got me to where I am now – and talking openly and honestly to anyone that cares to read my words is going to be part of my process of self repair and improvement. Not only is it cathartic but its also what has sparked comments from people that have read my blog so far, and has in a really short space of time opened my mind to new possibilities with offers of support and advice.

So here I am – wanting a drink and still feeling a bit angry and telling the world I’m not all that strong at the moment.

But you know what – the more I type, the better I feel, and the better I feel the more I type. Rather than remaining in a vicious circle i’m building a virtuous one.

I do hate it though when my brother is right.

I’ll never hear the end of it.







  1. They say that talking about things is the best way to get over the issues you have so spill your guts mate. I smiled at the photo above the blog and when you said you were worried about how people will see you when they meet you at the funeral, my thoughts were, if they cant see the loving, caring person in front of them, then its their loss!, not yours. Dont give a toss what they may think Dave, you probably wont see them again any way and we all know the kind of person you are, and for one I am loving the sharing. I cant wait for you to get the dog and we can get together so our dogs can become friends along side our friendship. I know my comment is not a eloquent as yours, but I am from Brum and we dont speak to well as those in Warwick 🙂


  2. Dave we’ve not spoken much over the years time gets in the way, Ithink your a wonderful bloke. What yr doing and writing from the heart is so honest and true. Cathartic is definitely the right description and I am finding getting to know you more just great. Life’s a journey with all the routes it takes. Your embarking on a different path now and I honestly think it’s right for you. I look forward to its continuance.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I remember that dog! Bound to be a rollercoaster of emotion at the moment, just do as “the boy” (or was it “the anklebiter”) says and let it out 🙂

    I for one am very glad that we got back in touch after all that time and really was one of the highlights of my decade getting to know each other after over a decade as strangers. Admittedly we don’t stay in touch slavishly but that’s the mark of a true friendship; we can just pick up where we left off and have our shared experiences to bind us together. You’re a top bloke Dave and I feel honoured to be able to call you a friend. Stay strong big man.


    1. Thanks mate. Each day is a bit of a journey at the moment lol. Who knows where the roller coaster will stop?!

      I consider hooking up again one of my highlights too even though I fail to stay in contact as often as I should 😏


  4. It is a bit ironic, that I am reading your blog from the start of your weight loss journey while I start mine. I am also going to a funereal for someone close in 4 days. All I can think of is my weight, what I will wear , and what people will be thinking about me. I feel guilty for the self absorption. You struggled not to drink. I am struggling not to eat cupcakes ( my drug of choice. Good girls don’t drink). Thank you for writing this. It helped.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. What you call self absorption is also just normal feelings – which are complex.

      There’s no right or wrong way to feel about such an event because it’s a terrible time.

      All you can do is try and be the best version of yourself and not punish yourself if you feel you fall short.

      Ultimately all it will do is make the problem worse.

      Deal with the event, take time to process the emotion, and then move on with cutting out the cupcakes.

      Glad it helped 😊


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