here comes the sun...

You may have noticed there's been a lot of almost *shudder* 'self-help' type speak in recent posts. This isn't because I've lost it and decided that vague aphorisms and aspirational jargon have any value. It's rather because I've been steadily trying to pull my shit together for most of this year, one step at a time.

Without going into tedious detail I found myself at the end of last year living alone, knowing virtually noone socially in Manchester, stressed/depressed/adjustment disordered/socially phobic - pick your diagnosis - I favour the last, unable to get out to go to gigs/pubs/clubs on my own, bored, and feeling a lot older that need be. Clearly it wasn't going to last, I was going to end up hurting myself, capitulating to ennui and conventionality by allowing myself to get fat, stupid and settled, or do something about it. And I have been doing something about it, especially over the last three months.

First I tried to get help through the NHS, though I might as well have drunk my own piss. Not because the service is bad, but because it's overstretched, and a combination of badly thought-out targets and creeping privitisation means that communication ain't what it should be. I did manage to get a psychiatric evaluation appointment, but the guy totally ignored anything I had to say about persistent, debilitating, and long-term social difficulties, and instead suggested the diagnosis of 'adjustment disorder' mentioned above. I was to be referred on to psychology. That was in early December, almost 8 months on I've only just found out my GP should be doing the referral, in the meantime I've had to help myself. Personally I'm pretty dubious about the concept of adjustment disorder.

Following that appointment I did some of my own research and began to think that social phobia might be closer to the mark. There didn't seem to be much available to help me - Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT), which is fine short-term, but at best amounts to cutting through your own bullshit and focussing on what you can do rather than what you can't - well I can do that already. There's also social skills training, but I don't need it, I have pretty much all the social skills I need, my problem is having the confidence to put them into action, and not being afraid of other people's reactions. Other than that I'm a bit stumped, the best course of action seems to be bloody-minded determintion, which is what I'm describing here. What I did next was join National Phobics Society (NPS), based here in Manchester, to access any support they might have,though other than information - which is a vital tool, there didn't seem to be much. However, I was able to get my contact details published to see if I could meet up with other people with similar problems. I know,'social phobics, come together' isn't the most likely rallying cry (a bit like Bill Hick's 'People who hate people, get together'), but it worked. Sure, my life hasn't transformed into a mad social roundabout, but there are people I can talk with who have similar experiences, which does help.

Then, as I've mentioned in other places, I decided to get myself more organised, both in my life in general, and in terms of organising and submitting my writing. So I put up a whiteboard for daily and weekly tasks, made sure my diary was up to date, got myself a year-planner and started to fill it out, got a pinboard for useful info on upcoming events, got an in-tray for my mail, and things that need to be done, sorted out my paperwork (relating to work, tax etc), and made sure it's close to hand, in order, and up-to-date, and then set to work on my poetry and other writing. I sorted that out into order, and made sure I had copies of the originals in one place, and copies of pieces for submission and for performance in separate files. I made a file listing separately all the poems, scripts, and articles I have for submission, in order to record where they've been sent and what response was recieved. The information's also recorded against a list of the magazines, theatres, production companies etc to which the work has been. Alongside this I set myself a regular four-weekly programme of submissions to try and keep to. Weeks 1 and 2 I submit poetry, in week 3 I promote my scripts, and in week 4 I send out articles. It's pretty punishing, but I've done it before, and if I don't push myself in this way then nothing happens.

Anyhow, this is all very well, in fact an absolutely positive step, but it just highlighted what a hollow and sad thing most of my life had become. So I started to try visit people, and get out some more. There was, of course, the Exeter event covered in an earlier post, when I decided to stop off in Cardiff on the way down and see friends I'd not visited in a while. Then there were gigs etc with family, either that I got invited to, or that I instigated. I even decided I'm not mobile enough, and started taking driving lessons, in the hope that by next year I'll be able to drive and rent a car whenever I need to get out of town to visit friends. I started writing and phoning people I hadn't spoken to in a while because of apathy and illness, and as I said in my last post I've decided to back to uni for an MA.

On Wednesday I even went out to the pub on my own. Ok, so I didn't invite anyone along (people I know were out of town), or talk to anyone other than bar-staff while I was there, and it wasn't quite like going to a club or gig on my own, but as baby steps I'm pretty pleased. There's time enough for all these other things, it's a case of building up my confidence right now. So *pant* that's the reason for all the self-helpish stuff that keeps intruding on my other posts - I've been in a state, I'm getting my shit together slowly, and I'm happy about it. Essentially, in the important parts of my life I'm trying to push myself as far and as hard as I can, and hope that when I come to look up there's something to see for my trouble.