This is a story about self sabotage...

If you think I've got nothing to lose, what you're implicitly saying is that I'm worthless, which is a pretty shitty thing to say to somebody. I've got as much to lose as anybody. I'm as valuable as anybody. It's vulgar and evil to start trying to put a value on individual human lives. It's narcissistic to consider yourself one of the more valuable members of society; somehow indispensable. It's grossly insulting, revolting and detestable to condone and support a culture which seeks to stigmatise, discriminate, ostracise and marginalise vulnerable members of humanity.

I write this blog in the manner which I do because I am daring people to use it against me. I don't write honestly and candidly because I've got nothing to lose. To suggest that I've got nothing to lose is a fucking awful thing to say or think.

Friends from around the world write to me and they're angry and upset. "Why are you self-sabotaging?" they ask me. "Why are you making choices which damage your life?" they ask. "Why do you keep doing this to yourself?" they ask.

Those friends care about me and they don't want me to die.

It's OK for me to feel like I've got nothing to lose. It's OK for me to feel like my life is irreparably broken. It's OK for me to lose hope. It's OK for me to think that I'll never be happy ever again. It's OK for me to think it's too hard to get through the trials and tribulations I'm facing. It's OK for me to think that my suffering is too much for me to endure. It's OK for me to not be OK.

It is not OK for you to write me off. It is not OK for you to see me as a lost cause.

My friends do not see me as a lost cause.

My friends see more potential in me than I see in myself, which is why they get so upset with me. My friends are frustrated, because they can see how strong I am and how resilient I am; how far I've travelled; how much I've recovered. My friends are upset to have been on the rollercoaster ride with me, only to see me seemingly giving up when I'm nearly at the finishing line. It's hard to be my friend.

If you gave up on me early on, you are not my friend. In fact, you're probably scum.

We give up on far too many people. Far too many viable lives are abandoned. Far too many people's potential is flushed down the toilet.

I must admit that I had hoped I would be further ahead at this point. Exactly a year ago I was in £52,000 of debt, homeless, jobless, sectioned and locked up on a secure psych ward. Since then I've earned about £110,000 (gross) but a vast amount of that has been eaten up on credit card interest, AirBnBs, plane tickets, rail travel, rent, deposit, bills, buying a car, insurance, tax and various other expenses which ordinary people take for granted. You own plates and cutlery, for example, don't you? I started with virtually nothing, this time last year.

I must admit that one of the things that keeps me motivated is knowing that this will make a fucking cool dinner-table story one day, while quaffing fine wine in the company of privileged insulated wealthy middle-class people who've never known what it's like to travel all the way to the bottom and back up.

What the fuck is anybody going to do to me because I write an honest candid blog?

Front-line police deal with ruined lives every day. Front-line police deal with an endless procession of people who are stuck in a revolving-doors cycle with almost no hope of escape. Almost no hope being the operative phrase: There is always hope - amongst good people who are trying to help their fellow humans - that somebody is going to turn their life around. There's always hope that somebody's going to rehabilitated and reintegrated into civilised society as a productive happy hard-working member, contributing to their local community and fulfilling a useful purpose. The police are more humble and have have more faith in humanity than almost anybody you could ever hope to meet. The police aren't out there trying to 'catch' so-called 'bad' people. The police - more than anybody - have empathy for the vulnerable members of society they deal with, and they're well aware that our circumstances dictate our choices.

If I was to suffer negative consequences as a result of bravely choosing to share my story, it would be a damning indictment of those who chose to use my words against me. Only a despicable coward would use what I write as ammunition in order to exploit, discriminate, exclude, marginalise, stigmatise, ostracise and otherwise negatively judge me.

Some of my actions are regrettable and I would prefer it if I had complete free will with regards to the choices I make. I cannot defend or justify some of my choices, but I make no secret of my flaws and mistakes. It's quite easy to understand the hopelessness which can occasionally swamp me, in the face of overwhelming obstacles. Obviously, the best course of action is to pursue the most direct linear path to reach the desired outcome, and it is frustrating for onlookers to see me deviate when I live a seemingly charmed existence.

Do not be mistaken: I do not have nothing to lose.

Tags: #recovery