A Life Worth Reflection?

As the fibromyalgia that riddles my body continues to metamorphose, defying my attempts to 'adapt', I come to a point where I begin to ask 'what kind of a life do I actually have?' I ask what dreams and wishes I had and realise how few, if any, have been fulfilled.
This then leads me into thinking that there are and have been things that were in my control and things that were not.

As I look back I come to realise that there are so very many things that I regret; choices not taken, chances not observed and mistakes made.
I have not been one of those people who is able to see opportunity or one who is able to capitalise on any talent given me. Whilst others are able to concentrate and visualise their career goals and options, looking forward is not a strength of mine. Only when I have, say, a project on the go can I make any sort of projections. Where I am concerned I am secondary in the scheme of things.
When opportunities and the such might have shown up other things appear to have taken my attention; I drift from one thing to another, I move where fate deems to take me. At least that is what I might say. In reality not having a specific focus - only in later life has any inkling of what I want to do with my life come to me - allows other distractions to steal focus; the pursuit of love an example. And to what end? I am here ultimately alone.

Throughout my educational life it would have been much easier were I to have had a goal to work toward but I didn't. I tended to choose subjects and pursuits that I enjoyed never thinking about which may be more appropriate to help towards my goal - after all I had none! The same applied to University where I undertook a course in a subject I enjoyed but never thought would be a subject that I wanted to pursue career-wise. As it turned out I discovered, toward the very end of my degree course, that there was a part of the subject that seriously interested me and over the next few years that followed that interest became more acute until I realised that here was the goal I wish I'd had when I was a teenager. Now, progressing from my late 20s into my early 30s, I realised, with horror, that the field in which I wished to pursue a career was really one where you had to have started earlier. The chance, like many others before and since in my life, had passed.

I have said that I was blind to observing opportunity and this was (and maybe still is) true across my life; it is not just regarding a career that I am unobservant. I fail to recognise signs that a person is 'interested' in me, fail to understand when someone is offering me a lifeline. I have never wanted to take advantage of any other person and I fear that this attitude has played against me on more than one occasion.

I am not a confident person in any real applicable way. I am no great looker, have nothing but doubt in any talent I might once have possessed. I can feign confidence but when push comes to shove my true attitude comes to the fore. This can be crippling for any person irregardless of their profession or social standing and here my lack of self-belief, in anything to do with myself, is one which continues to set me back where I am always three steps behind.
It is also probably true that I am very much a coward.

And then, of course, when, in these later years, such dawning has arisen in my mind I find that a new enemy has come upon me. Fibromyalgia, an 'invisible' condition that can be looked down upon even by health care professionals, is eating away at any semblance of life I retain. The physical and emotional toil that it exudes upon me is enough to make me think that any last flickering chance I might have had to pursue the things I love has been extinguished. Here is the most pressing concern of my life - how to live with this accursed blight. The things that most take for granted - job, partner, friends - are now a distant shadow to me.

Living is different to existing and for these past few years I have only really been able to do the latter.
As I watch my social and professional life flit away (the latter well before the former) there are moments of brief despair. But I continue to try to 'adapt' though with little success as the condition continues to evolve, change and assume lordship over me. I am subject to its whims and were I to rebel it would always be at a dear cost.

So these are factors that come to my mind when I think of 'what if?' There are aspects which I could have, for certain, taken control of but there are also the aspects over which I have no control and lately these are the more prominent. I can make no excuse for the sad state of affairs I come to find myself in but this is my curse; that I must live knowing these things. And that I will live in probable regret for ever such a long time.
Even my dreams are torture to me.

I see myself for what I am. That is all. At least I am not blind to that.

I believe I shall be one of those whose greatest achievements are well behind them and to die will be an awful big adventure.

'Carrie' by Stephen King, read by Sissy Spacek

This is the first audio book review for my blog and, since it is my blog, why the hell should I not review audio books here?

I've read 'Carrie' several times before over the years. It still holds up as a great story. It's length isn't overlong and King's writing (this is his first published novel) is paced well, his descriptions not too florid or overly detailed and the dialogue truthful. Of course, this being Stephen King, there are extraordinary situations and events in the book and I'm sure that most people know about what happens when outcast Carrie White is taken to the Ewen High School prom (It's Bates' High School in the film)!

I've gotten into audio books of late simply because I find that, sometimes, the symptoms of my fibromyalgia preclude me from reading, taking in and understanding the written word. It is easier, for whatever reason, for me to take it in aurally.

The audio book begins with an introduction, read by King himself, on the origins of the book and this is indeed somewhat insightful.
Sissy Spacek reads the novel proper and I'm sure most readers will be aware that she played Carrie in the film version. Her narrative skills are quite excellent and she tells the story well, providing enough vocal variety in characters to ensure that interest never wanes. She is a skilled actress and storyteller and her characterisations are perfect. To think that she has come back to the story some 30 years after the film with fresh insight (admittedly the book is somewhat different to the film) is more credit to her. She does not simply re-treas the character she and others created in the film version but instead works with the words that King put down.
Spacek's portrayal of the various teens, news clippings and other documents, not to mention the primary roles are wonderful and she excels in the scenes featuring Carrie and her Zealot mother, Margaret White and the scenes between the two are especially powerful and chilling.

My only issue with this otherwise faultless production is the editing which, on occasion, seems a little sloppy with different takes clearly edited together during ongoing passages. The balance between speakers should also have been looked at closer since Spacek's voice seems to come from one direction then another throughout.
That said it's a great audio book and I do recommended it.

The audio book is available from Simon and Schuster audio.

Sad But True

It's a sad thing to know that, here in the UK, whilst I am technically free to move from country to country (Wales, Scotland, England and Northern Ireland) my health limits my options.

Being as reliant as I am to the NHS (which David Cameron is all but destroying) when considering a move I must first and foremost consider what the health services are like in any particular area/country. I'll say here now that I have not the slightest interest in moving to Ireland and that's not because I dislike it. It simply doesn't appeal to me for whatever reason.

Out of the remaining three it seems that Scotland is the best health-wise as they have free prescriptions (as does Wales whilst England charge more than £7 per item!), excellent services and waiting times are not excessive (in Wales they can be). Were I to live in England the mere cost of the drugs I have been prescribed this past year (and which have had no effect on me - and, no, I don't continue to take them when that is the case. Rather I trial a drug for a period and then move on if need be) would have set me back several hundreds of pounds which I am no position to afford. Yes it's true that those on benefits do not pay for prescriptions in England but were I to be in a low paid job then the cost of drugs would put me off putting in the prescription in the first place. And I don't think the waiting times are as good as in Scotland (correct me if I am wrong). I would not be doing myself any favours, in other words.
When I lived in England previously I also came across quite a lot of xenophobia which also puts me off living there again, although there are many parts of England which are not so biased. In fact England, indeed all countries that make up the UK, have much to offer ranging from countryside to culture and arts. And were I a healthy man then, perhaps, I would look to move back into England.
But I am not a healthy man and as such I must put my health first.

I love the UK, I really do, and it angers me so much to see all the divisions and differences - policy-wise etc. - that exists between the nations. It also angers me that the current government seems to be intent on ripping up all that the things that the UK should be proud of - a national health service, the ability to help those in need with compassion and empathy (this the current ConDem government has none of).

There have been times when I have thought about moving abroad but then I am faced with that same wall - money and health. If I were born in a time before the NHS then I would have been left to fend for myself, unable to pay for the most basic of medical care. I would have been left to rot.
What frightens me now is that Cameron is on the road to bringing such times back to this country. And that is indeed frightening to me and anyone else in my position.
We are able to have some, basic, standard of living because of what the UK was able to do in the past century. I just hope that this century doesn't undo all the good that has gone before and that this dark period is but fleeting moment in time and that the Sun of humanity will reveal itself in the not to distant future, restoring the qualities of old so that I can once again move about without having to ponder the differences in services and quality that each country has to offer. In other words; I hope that the separate countries of the UK can celebrate their uniqueness whilst being in harmony when it comes to the public services they offer.

The Reality Of Friendship And Being Ill

I'm sure that every person is guilty of having let time pass them by without them realising it; letting many months pass between meetings with a friend, unconsciously forgetting to get in touch etc. etc.; I know I am!
But I have come to realise that, since fibromyalgia has really started to affect my day to day living, my friends have, perhaps not intentionally, distanced themselves and have made little effort in continuing our relationship, despite my own efforts.

I wonder if it is all too easy to put aside the person who is 'ill' and who is rarely able to attend social gatherings or 'nights out', after all when one is in the hubbub of the excitement and events of such occasions then the person or persons who are not present are usually the farthest things on the mind. But it appears that this constant fact, no doubt repeated since the 'ill' person is rarely ever able to attend, becomes habit and the lack of thought extends into the every day.

When these friends are reminded of one's existence one is usually met with an 'oh, it's been too long' response together with a half-hearted attempt at a reunion. Which, as yet, has always led to nothing.

That is not to say that I don't still treasure my time with my friends, when it does happen, but this is all too rare and human companionship is a vital part of life. I have all too few friends who I see on a quasi-regular basis and loneliness is a major factor of my life these days.

Making new friends is, perhaps, even harder since the ways in which one usually meets new people, at social gatherings, through other people etc., are not always available to me because of the condition I was blessed with. the fact that most of my existing friends have metaphorically moved themselves away from me further exacerbates the fact.
These days I am virtually reliant on the internet and its online world. Making friends of any value online is almost impossible and I do not truly count any association made online as a 'real' friendship. After all, what is friendship? I mean, real friendship? Think about it.

And to further the discussion; I have all but given up hope of ever finding a romantic partner as a) it is difficult to meet new people (see above), and b) the mere mention of an illness (I will not lie) is enough to either put people off entirely or reduce me, in their eyes, as someone unequal to themselves who should be pitied - and any partnership that I want means one of equal stature.
I will probably never be able to earn like any future (if only) partner or have the quality of life and all its experiences that the other may want and obtain. So, I wonder, could any future romantic involvement be an an 'equal' one?
I wonder, indeed.

But I am thankful for small mercies. I am grateful that, when the weather is good, I am able to look at the world and see the beauty and glory that exists; beauty and glory that most people overlook.
In my life being involuntarily slowed-down I can look and experience, almost at leisure, the simplest things that another might take for granted.
And most of the time I can observe people and their interactions with their friends and with their partners without jealousy. Most of the time.

Lethargy Is Fun. Really.

One of the major drawbacks in having fibromyalgia is the lethargy that washes over you when you least suspect it.
I have yet to find a way to combat this symptom which comes upon you in a matter of moments leaving you weak, your mind foggy, your vision often blurred and you feeling simply like crap!
It is as if the positive essence of yourself is drained out of you in a few seconds, leaving you empty and hollow and at the mercy of some unknown foe.

I wouldn't wish this on anyone.

I can't

In recent months I have been attempting to deal with and come to terms with my fibromyalgia. I have not been having much success.
Believe it or not I am a fiercely independent soul who loathes to be at the mercy of anyone else. Hence my frustration and deep dissatisfaction with my current situation.
When I was younger I had dreams and desires and whilst I was never in a hurry to fulfil them I now find that I am, and will be, unable to fulfil them in the future.
The limitations of this chronic condition is made apparent to me each day when the simplest, everyday, task can be an Everest-like hurdle to overcome. I won't ask for help. Call it pride, call it whatever, but I cannot bring myself to admit defeat.
The truly torturous thing about this condition is when I am reminded of what I have wanted to do, what I was once able to do, and what I can probably never do again.
These days it is more a matter of learning to live again within the limitations of my body and mind.
And that feels like death to me.

Use well the days. If you can.

Sometimes (often actually) I feel that fibromyalgia is winning the war on my life.
Today, as for the past few days, the sun has been shining down on us amidst blue skies. Summer!

I, however, have been feeling really quite terrible and find it a great struggle to even get to my kitchen.
Fatigue, lack of concentration and sluggishness are a few of the things I am combating each day and on such glorious days I feel like that I am so missing out on things. I am forced to endure memories of when I was able to enjoy the days and the nostalgia wracks me up!

I keep fighting against it but I fear that all my efforts are in vain as every small effort I make costs me more in pain and lethargy. So when I do attempt to make the most of the sun, I cannot.

It has not gone unnoticed that my social life has almost breathed its last. I imagine that it's at times like these that you realise who actually really gives a shit about you. Certainly in the last few years people have distanced themselves and fibromyalgia has cost me relationship wise.

As it is I am loathe to look out of the window, after all it only reinforces what I am missing out on in life.

I am aware that I am, perhaps, not as reconciled with this condition as I once thought I was ...

Fibromyalgia Sucks!

Since I suffer with fibromyalgia I thought that I'd try and describe, every now and then, what it is like to live with it and how it affects my life day to day.

I am not medically trained in any way so I'll say here and now that sometimes it is quite difficult to accurately describe the symptoms but I can only do my best.

In my legs, especially in my shins most days, and joints I endure a pain that is like a dull, dental, ache which very occasionally becomes a sharp and sudden pain with no forewarning. I also feel a painful sensation akin to when one stretches a muscle and feels the ache. However, it's as if that ache just goes on and on with no release. It can seem especially bad at night when I am attempting to sleep. This may seem so because, without any other distraction to take your attention, you can notice the pain more. I may be wrong but it certainly is a form of torture, believe me.

The condition has also affected my mobility and flexibility. I was never the most bendy of people but I can say that once upon a time I was quite flexible. Nowadays, however, that flexibility is a distant memory. a simple example is that I find it painful and rather difficult to spread my fingers wide and straight and cannot create a strong fist. My grasp on objects has also been affected and I must take care when picking up objects. This especially makes things like cooking and showering an adventure!

On the funny side, my joints and bones pop and crunch when I move which can often amuse me. I have no idea why.
I guess it's better to laugh than cry, right?

An Update. Of Sorts ...

I haven't blogged in a while and that is primarily because I have had little to blog about and I have also been dealing with a medical issue or two which is not necessarily what people wish to read about. Suffice to say that, as you should know, I have the condition fibromyalgia which affects my life in various ways; and never in a good way.

Anyway ...
As my readers will know I have an enduring passion for theatre and music which inevitably produces a love of musical theatre. Now I don't like everything and I much prefer intelligent works over dross (and there is much of that out there!). Likewise I enjoy productions that push boundaries, that take a risk and have something to say. That is not to say that I don't enjoy works that are unashamed entertainment but I am not a big fan of some of the older musicals. By modern standards they are tame, dated and, to my mind, often unexciting.

I am always exploring new works and discovering older, under-appreciated, ones and to that end I just want to make everyone aware of the ill-fated musical version of Stephen King's 'Carrie'.

There are various websites that describe in detail the torrid history of the production which has various flaws against it but also numerous things that make it stand out. Perhaps it was ahead of its time in what it was trying to achieve effect-wise but it certainly has, at its heart, a tragic story which deserves telling upon the stage.
The writers of the stage show are currently reworking it with hopes for a future staging. And I hope that happens as the musical, even in its flawed state, has much to recommend it from some of the musical composition, to some of its original staging and of course the tragedy of Carrie herself.

Originally co-produced by the Royal Shakespeare Company (which received much flak for doing so) the central story must have appealed to artistic director Terry Hands as much as a great Shakespeare or Greek tragedy would. In many ways it is an age old story retold in a modern way.

So I hope the musical, which has achieved cult status, is able to be reworked and revived in a successful staging that it so deserves.