He sits down and writes this scutter. This makes it even worse
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RTE showing “London has fallen” the night before anniversary of 7/7 attacks seems an odd auld choice
Before I mock someone who would spot that, did you spot that yourself or did someone you know die in 7/7
RTE mentioned it themselves before the film started.
Cant remember the exact wording but the announcer referenced it.
That’s crazy 
Is Marty “all there”
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John Mullane needs to talk more about KPIs, Conversion Rates, and percentages, because that’s what the armchair John Kielys want. One for the slow thread though.
I can’t make out anything Mullane is saying
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THE FLICK BY NOEL MCGRATH!
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I can make out every word.
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you love your county
Mullane is a national treasure.
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I’ve been “let go” by mental health services. The way they did this was because I’ve been spending an increasing amount of time in my childhood house in Dublin rather than in Galway, they suggested I might benefit from my “care” being moved to Dublin. I foolishly agreed to this. This was about three months ago. Then last week I got a letter in the door saying they had no place for me even in terms of an odd meeting.
I’ve had the following suicide attempts: Walking on the rail line, attempted hanging x 3, overdose of pills, running in front of a double decker bus, running in front of cars x 3, going to the top of a multi-storey car park with intent to jump, going to a rail station with half intent to jump in front of a train. The running in front of a double decker bus was by far the closest I came to dying or more likely horrific physical impairment. But anyway, great, bye now. Come into A and E if you need to, wait 12 hours, pay 100 quid for a useless safety plan.
My wish to be dead - as opposed to wanting to die, because the thought of killing yourself is terrifying - is utterly constant and anything that helps is only temporary, temporary as in minutes, a few hours if lucky. Two years, nine months of that. My life is over in any meaningful sense and I know that. I want it to end and for all the shite that I have to endure out of my eyes and in my head to end.
I can do nothing of real value to myself or to anybody else now. I constantly bump into things, drop things, misjudge things. I’ve lost the ability to read properly and certainly to think and to concentrate. I don’t write posts out of concentration, I write them out of anger, out of rage. Every time I go outdoors is a mistake. I’ve lost the ability to feel anything except terror and especially lost the ability to feel hope. NEVER at any stage in the last two years and nine months have I felt ANY real hope. This has never changed.
Right from the start I was told I’d be fine. This was incredible bullshit. I’m sure it was well intentioned bullshit but it was bullshit.
Eye people “reassured” me my eye would be fine. It is NOT fine. My vision is a horrific, slanted, wobbly, squiggly, double visiony mess and this is the ONLY reason I want to be dead, but it completely dominates everything. Right this second I want to stick a knife in my eye. I’m trapped with this for the rest of my life, trapped in this bastard head, and there are no viable workarounds that can get your old life or an ability to feel hope back. Any form of occlusion of the eye is like being suffocated and with anything else the distorted double vision always finds a way through, flickering away in my brain like coins at the bottom of a fountain.
Mental health people told me I’d be fine but they have no comprehension of my vision. They have no comprehension of being terrified to open your eyes, to have to live with constant dizziness and disorientation that saps your energy and will to live.
My neighbour who went blind in one eye in the 1970s told me I’d be fine. He hasn’t a clue. He went entirely blind in one eye. That’s EASY compared to this. He says “the brain works it out”. The brain doesn’t work it out.
My neighbour on the other side has macular degeneration and can’t read. He no longer leaves the house. I’ve seen him once in three years. He’s sitting there waiting to die. As am I.
I can’t speak for anybody else with depression, but my feeling is a lot of what we class as depression is bullshit. I previously experienced what I thought was low level depression, for decades, for 35 years. It held me back, a lot. But now I realise it was bullshit because that situation feels like a lost paradise compared to this situation. But then again who am I to judge anybody else or their circumstances. I also have a contradictory feeling that the unhappiness and desperation in society is huge, way more widespread than anybody wants to acknowledge, and most of it is silent.
The way we live has been massively changed in the last 25 years and particularly the last 15 or so. The INTERNET has been a far bigger change than television was. With that change comes uncertainty, confusion, anger, jealousy, frustration. It’s a toy nobody on earth is equipped to use even if they think they are.
The INTERNET has changed the way we speak to each other. You’d need a book to explore all the ways it has changed how we speak to other. The first and most obvious way it has changed how we speak to each other is that much or most of human conversing is no longer done face to face or even voice to voice on the phone. It’s done from behind a screen. That changes everything. Every non-personal interaction is a transaction.
The dominant modes of communication now are:
- a shallow, outwardly friendly but intrinsically and empty and pathetic form of corporatised communication.
- Irony or sarcasm. Nothing you say is as it seems. As a teacher in the 1980s would have called this form of communication, “being a smart Alec”. This is worse than an empty form of communication. It has allowed evil to thrive through pretending to not be evil.
- Rage. Sometimes rage is justified but the dominant strain of rage now comes from bastards who are stupid and/or want the the world to burn.
Fascist politics mainly uses 2) and 3) but different branches of fascism use each type.
Non-fascist politics and everything else is largely carried out through the medium of 1).
Public discussion of mental health is mainly carried out through 1) – the shallow, sloganised, empty form of corporate communication. “You got this”. “It’s OK to not be OK”. “This too shall pass.” “There is help available.” #Hashtags.
But mental health really is an industry. It’s cheap filler for radio and telly programmes. Stories of illness are another great cheap filler.
Public discussion of any type of illness is carried out through the medium of shallow, empty, sloganised corporatised communication. “Get well soon!” “You’ll beat this!” “The power of positive thinking can move mountains!” “Cancer won’t stand a chance!” People are well meaning but they don’t know any other way now and none of it helps. The person is always alone with serious illness.
Through these cheap fillers, and especially mental health, you can make money. You can make a career – if people already know you from another career which coincidentally at that point just happens to be failing. You can write a boring but best selling book. You can get lucrative speaking gigs. And the whole time you can never say anything of much interest or consequence. It’s only people who are “in the public eye” who can make money from depression, but a lot do. And a lot probably aren’t very depressed, they’re feeling the sort of “normal” downs of life nobody can escape. Sinead O’Connor never made any money from “mental health” struggles because hers were real.
I don’t know really know what I’m trying to say here except that so much of the discussion about “mental health” is a vacuous, empty front. Even discussion of how “mental health services” are failing is a vacuous front. Such discussion is full of rage but no solutions to anything. For people who genuinely are in the pits, I don’t actually know what “mental health services” can even do. I’m not sure that in many cases they even can do anything. In many cases they’re pissing in the wind and I feel sorry for them. I would think that among careers, one of those that is most likely to promote depression among its practitioners is being a mental health professional.
I mean how could you listen to people like me all the time and not get depressed?
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Have you a GP that you can go to to advocate to get you back into the service in Galway or one in Dublin? Sorry you’re in this shape, had thought from your posting you were edging better a bit.
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The only GP I’ve seen for years is in Galway. I used to have a GP in Dublin but he retired so I have no GP in Dublin now.
I’m able to post obviously but I’m not able to exist in any sort of content fashion, what’s going on in my brain is a constant turmoil and it never lets up. Drink is one solution but it’s not a solution because then the next day you really do feel like walking under a train.
It’s the loss I can’t cope with. You can cope with grief for anybody or anything except the loss of yourself. Once you lose yourself you’ve lost everything.
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I’m sorry to read this Cheasty. There’s literally nothing I can do to help because I’ve no idea about anything on these subjects but if I could I would.
I’m very sorry again.
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Is an operation on your detached retina not an option?
That’s a heart breaking and insightful post in equal measure. I have no response other than I hope you can find some sort of support even though it appears there is none available to you.
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A GP isn’t worth a shit for this stuff.