Regulars might remember the hideous start to my month. Even in the darkest moments, I was able to step outside my body (try that when you have a belly as big as mine, not easy) and see some humour, some possibility that things might turn. After a two day hunger strike, and a night-time vigil outside a wannabe mosque in south London, after the tears of my helpless eldest on the phone, the stoppage of my JSA and about a hundred other mishaps, I believed that things could and would get better.
They have. Nothing much has really changed on the outside, but I feel that things are turning. They’ve certainly turned on the inside, I can feel that. A new friend (I hope she doesn’t mind me calling her that) asked me if I could point to somewhere, anywhere in the body, where DNA is. I gave her the only answer a man who really doesn’t know can give “I don’t know”. Or something like that. The fact is - and she’s got an MSc in Genetics so she should know - that you can’t actually point to DNA. It’s everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. So I have this hope of change. I can’t point to it, but I know it’s there, everywhere, permeating every cell of my body in some indescribable way. A bit like electrons too I guess.
I’m not buzzing with it. There’s too much of the baggage left to discard, but at least I have an idea which way to go to the rubbish tip.
I got my decree nisi. My tip for the day - try and avoid divorce. Especially when kids are involved. It’s not pretty. Especially when one or both of you is unhinged a little. And if you aren’t unhinged to begin with, you surely will be when it’s done. In one of life’s bittersweet acts of schadenfreude, my decree absolute gets granted at the end of May.
I’m seeing my kids again. There’s no doubting their love for me. There’s no doubting that they want to spend more time with me. There’s no doubting that they want me and my ex to stop arguing, and they really, really don’t care whose fault it is. You see, the tragedy of the innocents in a divorce is that they tend to look for blame in themselves, because they cannot find fault in their parents when both of them are hurting so badly. I left. That’s the undeniable fact. I walked away from my ex, but I’ll never be able to walk away from the fact that I also walked away from my children’s home.
After all the trouble of losing my JSA due to some bureaucratic bollocks, I think (not confirmed) that it has been restarted. And that was almost literally at the 11th hour. Last thing on Friday in fact. Without it, I wouldn’t have been able to progress to stage 3 of my InBiz course where I learn to run a business. That starts tomorrow. I will be starting a web design business. Any income I receive will go into an escrow account until such a time that the business can support me.
At the end of the week, I have to be out of my flat. That’s not going to be easy of course, because I have nowhere to go. But insha’Allah, I expect that to be resolved too. Better living in hope than fear I say. Things do work out somehow. Packing has been ongoing all day and most of it is done. It wasn’t as bad as I feared.
Another tip for the day: Don’t accumulate stuff. You can’t take it with you. Well, you can, but not to the next plane, most of it won’t fit in your coffin and most of it you can live without. Put it this way. Most of my stuff is packed, and I’m missing none of it. Really. Give me my Mac, a wireless broadband connection to the Internet and my Gaggia Espresso Deluxe and I’m a happy man.
I don’t have a car, but I have found that London Transport is not as bad as all that. The constant fear of bailiffs removing my car has gone, along with all the other nonsense I listed in Carlos.
The biggest lesson I have learned is that it’s very, very difficult to manage alone, if not impossible. I have the most amazing network of friends. They are absolutely inspirational, wonderful and supportive. They are ready and willing to help me at the drop of a hat. I want them all to know that if I had to put my life on the line for them, I would. Obviously, I’d rather not. Seriously, I can safely say that without my friends, I would be dead by now. I can also safely add that this not an exaggeration. Obviously, in the category of friends, I have to include my brother and sister. Magnificent. I aim to make them proud of me one day.
I also look forward to the day when I can stop whining about my shit to my friends (it didn’t use to be my style believe it or not) and start being a friend for them. And that day will be this year. Insha’Allah.
By the way Mans, if you’re reading this, it’s a year to the day since I won the lucky watch you photographed me winning and thanks to you, I still wear it. Only you will know what wearing that watch meant and only you will understand what it took to get just that far. And I have a million beautiful stories about all my friends from this period of my life, may Allah bless and reward them all for their patience, love and support.
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