I saw the Queen today and thought of suicide

I saw Her Majesty the Queen in Portsmouth 30th May 2009. I was on the way home from seeing my son and was stopped at a junction, near Portsmouth Technic (sorry) University, by many police motor cyclists and BIG BLACK jeeps, with tinted windows. It was the closest I have ever been to the Royal Family and …..

I suddenly wanted to jump out and speak to her about one of her representatives but had no chance, of course. (DAMN THAT would have sorted all this out real fast, if of course they hadn’t shoot me. BUT then I WOULDN’T HAVE TO KILL MYSELF. <sorted>. DAMN I should have rushed her)

She reminded me of www.mad-dentist.co.uk in some convoluted but instant way.

The journey home, in atrocious weather, was then a reflective 3+ hours. I NEED a voice recorder to record the thoughts I get when I am away from this damned computer. Unobtrusive and voice activated. Something I can use safely in my car because I can get great thoughts on long journeys on how to write MY story in one page and not a whole website, chaotically arranged and with me now unable to update as I really want .

And I need something to stop me thinking of intentionally crashing or stopping at Aust Services on the old M4 bridge, and jumping.

Incidentally I stopped at those services for a big breakfast in the early hours of June 12th 1998 on the way to Heath House and whilst walking round the grassed area having a reflective Hamlet cigar, I do remember thinking about Ritchie Edwards of the Manic Street Preachers who allegedly “jumped” from there on Feb 1st 1995. This song (I heard it was a tribute to Richie) started in my head as I thought now about that day and WHY THE FUCK I listened to that piece of “medical advice” WHY THE FUCK did I listen? I KNEW I was stressed BUT for fucks sake, hospitalised???

SO yes I did think about suicide that day in June 1998

but not mine.

I had thought of Ritchie’s “suicide” and the 2 telephone I had received, at home the previous day, Thursday June 11th 1998

I had booked the afternoon off to rehearse, in my house, a play I was writing, arranging the music and performing in, on August 12th 1998. Read this post When the cast EVENTUALLY disappeared six o’clock-ish I was suddenly VERY, VERY ALONE.

Then “******” , rang. To tell me he had just been released from a local mental hospital (can’t remember the name) having just tried to commit suicide. He had tried to hang himself a few weeks previously and even tho’ he was a good mate, I didn’t know. SHIT!!!! We talked for a forgotten time about things I too forget and we arranged to meet. Or so ****** said when we did EVENTUALLY meet and he asked where I had been. (He too didn’t know what was about to happen to me.) ****** and I HAD been talking about HIS problems for the previous 6-8 months or so as they got worse and worse. He also knew about my shit and wished we could swap. I wish now that we DID swap ‘cos he is back at work, (non-medical) earning money, got a new wife etc etc . HIS life back on track.

AND ME????

AND HE WAS SAVED BY A RUGBY TACKLING MEMBER OF THE PUBLIC AS HE PUT A NOOSE AROUND HIS HEAD. BUT he had treatment, help to “sort out his problems”.

Then **** rang, in tears, drunk as a skunk, threatening to kill himself. I now don’t remember ANYTHING about THAT phone-call or anything at all until I pulled into Aust services the next morning.

Sadly ****, aided by the demon drink is in a comparable state these days. He has done 4 million steps instead of the 12. He has regular counselling. He also says they have named the “ward” after him he has been there so often. But he has help.

AND ME????

Forget the shit that started all this. I CANNOT EVEN ASK FOR REASSURANCE  when I am told 24 hours before a subclavian/carotid bypass ANOTHER MISDIAGNOSIS, The first cost me my career, life, financial independence and sanity and respect. SO this was a second misdiagnosis and this time COULD BE LIFE OR DEATH, and so I get reminded by Dr Kahan of the loss of my career when I ask for reassurance. She sends me to the psychiatrist as an ungrateful patient starting ALL THIS SHIT.

I can’t get treatment EVEN THOUGH I DID THREATEN TO COMMIT SUICIDE JUST BEFORE CHRISTMAS, 2008.

I can’t get answers to questions like WHY wasn’t I told I was to be hospitalised in order that I may sort my affairs out? for example. But many, many more.

or even an apology.

I have a document in my possession (also in my MEDICAL NOTES) where the blame for not telling me I was to be retired, was passed to a DENTIST!!! ERR??? He WAS on the local health board but I had never, ever met him. Also he was a dentist so what has it got to do with him to tell me. IF it was HIS responsibility to tell me WHERE IS A COPY OF HIS LETTER to me??????

HOLY CRAP ALL THIS just because I saw HER MAJESTY in Portsmouth today.

And thought of Dr RB John.

WHY AM I SO WORTHLESS? I would scan and upload his response to the 2003/2004 “investigation” but I am too scared of what I might do if I read it again, cos I WOULD have to read it. (Looking at the pile of papers it is in is scary enough)

WHAT COULD BE FAIR AND JUST COMPENSATION?

If he was exemplary, as the Welsh NHS said in the result of the complaint, would it not have saved a lot of time and effort for him to have PROVED so.

Writing this has helped me get over this again. I can safely go to bed. I hope I do not have too bad a dream.

Everything I have ever worked for since I was 14 has GONE

and I also can’t play guitar and piano as I did.

A man who lied

I just don’t wanna hurt anymore

and a song about Heath House Priory

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