Thursday, 6 June 2019

Precis - Part 2

Precis - Part 2


  So, the year I did my knee. Up to this point, I have done quite a few different jobs. Mostly because I liked the variety. Also because like most young people, I was not prepared to settle down. I went from mostly doing office work to factory and processing work. This was for two reasons. 
  
  One, I was partially deaf. Mobile phones were becoming a big thing then. Phone work was important in office jobs. and I hated it. So that started to put me off of office jobs. I started to do physical work. which brought me to the second reason. I am quite short, (around 5ft 7in) never been that thin, but due to a weekly paper round I had with one of the friends mentioned previously, I had gotten quite a big build physically. and the physical work was only improving that. So I decided to find a job doing something in a warehouse or factory. and I found something permanent. got offered the job. on the Saturday before I was due to start the job, I injured my knee at a 21st birthday party. Stupid, funny at the time, funny when I think back now, utterly changed my life. Strong statement that last yeah? well, it true.

  I went to the hospital, where they prodded and looked at it, said that I was gonna spend some time on crutches. and that I wouldn't be able to do any physical work like I had been doing for at least two years, probably more like three. wow. that meant I couldn't do my new job for a start. in fact, there wasn't much I could do. Boredom set in. I started to hang around two guys. drinking with them, and generally just spending time with them is what I did. I was depressed at this time, but well, it wasn't heavy, I was confident that I would be able to rise from the ashes in time and make a comeback. Little did I realise, I started some issues from that time.

  in time, I signed on with the job centre and was referred to the disability advisor. This was the first time I ever really been to see one of these guys. He looked over my CV, and all that, and then said to me, There wasn't much he could do for me, as I was a cut above his usual clients. I don't mean that nastily or anything, but my disabilities for the most part, allowed me to live a fairly normal life with few disruptions. Other people are not so lucky. However, one thing he could and did recommend was that I could attend a residential college for the deaf. looking in the prospectus, bearing in mind I still had physical limitations laid down by the doctors I chose to learn about how to build computers and repair them.

  This was a wonderful two years and bit for me. I learned so much. Living in a house with other people in a property off of college, this taught me a lot of life skills. I felt part of a proper community for the first time, as many people had the same issues I did. There was still a division, as some of us there, me included had actually never really been part of a deaf community before then. Others were totally deaf and never known anything other. Nonetheless, I made friends, and I still keep in contact with one of my housemates. I also learned more then I was originally sent to learn, as the teachers there were willing for me to learn other stuff, while I was learning what I had to. It was an amazing time. But like all good times, it ended. I came back home. I felt small. decided to go uni. I failed at that. That started some of the whisperings in my head. then I got a job. credit crunch hit, I lost that and couldn't find another job for five years.

  This was probably my first actual conscious battle with depression. I thought about killing myself within this time. two things saved me, One, my loving family. Two, My other family. I am not a dad. I have never been that successful at relationships, and I have always been careful enough to make sure I haven't made a kid. (If I'm going to have one, it gonna be because both me and his mother wanted him very much.) But that best friend I mentioned in the previous post? The one who I known since secondary school? He had gotten with a lady, who had a lad from a previous relationship, and they had kids and also got married. This is my other family.

  I love those kids. I am Uncle Dave to them, and I love them more then I love anyone else in the world. This is not a slur on anyone else including my family, It just that I have seen these kids from shortly after they were born, Their parents have allowed me to share many precious family moments with them. my heart is just full to bursting. When I thought about suicide then, (not all of them had been born at this point) I thought about my friends having to explain to those kids why uncle Dave wasn't around then. I couldn't do it. Any time I have thought about it since, (and I have) All it has taken is me imagining that scene to make sure I haven't gone that route. Maybe I would have found something else to have stopped me if they hadn't existed. But I don't think I would have.

So I knew I had to do something. a friend of mine had suffered a misfortune and was renting a room. in a bigger town near me. With help in form of benefits, I moved out of my family's house, into hers, vowing never to go back home. That it was gonna be all or nothing.

It panned out. I got a job three months later. which was good, because I was actually, due to problems with our landlord, having to either find more money or move out. and since I vowed never to go back home, I was researching on declaring myself homeless.But I got the job, and then come a few years of depression being forced into a corner and thinking it dealt with. It definitely wasn't. Oh it subsided for a while, and started coming back in later years, which is where it connects to the present day. Which I will talk about in the next post.

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