Back yet again

Another one at the end of the day, and probably a relatively early night. It's quite incredible to manage a life at rock bottom of possibilities. I imagined many years before having to live and survive on my own, and though I freely admit not being particularly interested in any job I did have, having so much time to fill with no one else around is a tough call. It would be really nice to meet just one person in my position so we could share our time rather than pass it separately.

Today I started a little journey in the little steps I'm taking back to normal since the chicken pox. One at a time, don't take on too much in one go or I go back to the beginning. I'm learning and have to take it very slowly or not at all. For 2 months my hope was based on an illusion I'd be on near-mainstream TV. As my first went perfectly to schedule I wasn't really expecting this effort to drop off the radar before showing. I'm able to carry on now by looking at today and dropping all cares beyond in the future. It's something I never had so haven't actually lost, and on the tiniest of consolations (Brazil 17 Moldova 1 in the last minute) they showed my programme for the third time on Discovery find this channel with a metal detector and treasure map. Total probable viewers now 150,000 maximum. Sky One, peak time, advertised in all papers, likely audience 500,000. Mid 2007, Discovery Kids, 5.20 pm, advertised in Montreal, viewers in UK, 7? That won't make my name and now I know I can't even rely on being in it. And no, it's not because I don't put enough in I don't get enough out. I nursed my TV career for 5 years before it started. Like most famous people they worked up to it in the shadows for years before they got their break. But the big one was not to be and it's history now.

Meanwhile everyday issues continue, why won't my dishwasher use tablets as you can hardly find the powder anyway and mine just ran out. I have the usual household and financial concerns anyone does, but all within my scope to solve or end up with (even more) water leaking onto the floor and manky carpets. Just another day in suburban London, but none of the 1950s black and white style family life to compensate for the daily drudgery of running a house. I nowadays really worry if that ever happened I'd even notice as I've been down at the bottom for so long would any actual change be felt? Of course all I know that worked was living in my parent's house, and that won't happen again. I know that's the one place I'd be at least relatively content. OK, they both worked for 40 years to pay for it, and I fiddled half my cash by being in the right places at the right times, working just to finish the job. Not deliberately mind you, studying until 31 never allows much scope on the job front so I never actually earned more than £120 a week (before tax). Even now that would seem like riches. Of course all the money I received was legally, or I wouldn't mention it here. But I didn't work for a lot of it. So why should I expect any more than I have? As you needn't earn happiness in life. It's literally every person's right. Do I ask my cat to work before I look after her? Do parents want their children to pay back all the money they spent on them once they start working?

It's a sad view that people expect to suffer to succeed. I know people who are away from home 10-12 hours a day, are millionaires and never there to use it. Idiots. I doubt the woman concerned enjoys travelling 20 miles to work at dawn, working with shares for 8-10 hours and repeating this farce 5 days a week. It must be the most boring life on earth. Who wants money if you have to prostitute your life for it? OK, of course I'm a hippy, and Screaming Lord Sutch had hippy policies in the 60s many of which are now the law. We are ahead of the crowd, not behind it. Why are more and more London professionals suffering from stress related mental illnesses as they played the game, commuted and worked twice as much as a person should and then, fancy that, cracked up? I hear I am with the elite sharing tablets and anxieties as we are all living in the same hell hole they call a city.

As the best books tell you when the final judgement comes it's by ourselves, I am preparing for that. I thought work was paid time which almost always guaranteed suffering, and was not totally disappointed when the world of employment finally spat me out as inedible. But besides the self respect (remember, I never earned more than £120 a week) the time spent at work did about as much as leaving less time to kill whilst living alone. Had I been married I doubt I'd be writing this now. So judging myself having spent 14 years looking after myself, and working for some of that, why on earth would I look back and say I failed? Failed at what? Pleasing my family? All that failed was my aim to live with a family and not alone. And as my own efforts (or lack of) played so little part in that as not to count, I can never judge myself as some others do. Of course they have no right to but that never stopped anyone. I was saying to someone today that from the people living alone not through choice, does that have to be an automatic route to depression, and we really had to think about it. I just don't know. But I don't hear from any family or friends "Well done, you do a great job" but "Look at the state of your house/garden" "Why don't you learn to cook" "You don't socialise enough" (that took incredible depth of perception, as if it was a choice) "You spend too long on the computer" "You get up too late".

Why? So bloody what? My suffering can't be felt by anyone, so why criticise me for it? Why tell a leper they don't shake hands nicely as they have three fingers missing? They know already! I don't need snidey comments, I need a practical helper. If I was backward I wouldn't already know what I can do to get out of any position I'm in, and if I was wouldn't be able to comprehend the advice. Not being backward I am totally aware of how others see me and have actually checked every known alternative to escape said situation to find there are no doors, let alone hidden exits or keys. I'd give myself and everyone else in my position a bloody great award, 'Congratulations, you have lived alone for X years'. No details needed, that is enough for me. Survive that and you can survive almost anything.

People working 60 hours a week are twats. Apart from being illegal in half the civilised world (not the UK) it's a choice they can stop at any time. I'm not Labour but the party was created two centuries ago to stop this happening. All they did was take the edge off it. If you have 5 days from 7 spent working even if you claim to enjoy it (enjoy sitting in an office selling investments, do me a favour) and some even add weekends as well, you clearly have nothing worth doing in your barely existent spare time. If you hate your wife and children I can understand avoiding them most of the time, but why get married and have children at all? Do these guys think it's going to be paradise, realise it's no great shakes and hide in the office or in their lorry? You can't have it both ways. If you like your family spend more time with them, if not, call it a day. It's a free country. But spend most of your life half way across town barely getting to know your children's names they for one will have little respect for you. My mother worked all hours, didn't earn enough to warrant it, and had little time for the family as a result. She seemed happy at work and nowhere else, and in true integrity finally bailed and also managed to work part time when she did. I can't recall the exact timing but once she'd left the vile pit of a family home she no longer avoided her new one.

I think I may have to split this entry in two, it's reached a record size... But I hope to goodness even one person learns from it.