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  • Writer's pictureJack

Rock Bottom

After my panic attack and ringing the doctors I got an appointment the next day, this was thirteen years ago and it feels strange now that you could just ring up and get to see a doctor so quickly.

I didn't like going to the doctors, I didn't like doctors from past experience and they didn't like me for some reason, no matter how polite I was, maybe it's because they could see what a fuck up I was and didn't look after myself.

I can't remember all the details of that visit but I recall some things.

He signed me off sick from work, he referred me to a therapist, he gave me addresses of places I should go to which dealt with addiction, he thought I'd been injecting drugs because he saw the burn scars on my arms and misidentified them, he didn't seem to believe me when I said I'd never injected any drug, which was true.

This whole part of my life is a blur, I think I've blocked a lot of it out.

I had to go to Woolwich to one of the places that helped with addiction and I'm sure they injected me in the arse with something. They told me that I should cut down my drinking gradually as if I stopped outright my body would go into shock, I remember thinking, nice one I can carry on drinking for a bit.

I had to complete a kind of goal sheet that I was to bring to my next appointment after I'd filled it in each day. It said something like try and drink less than three bottles of wine a day, stay away from spirits, stay away from the pool place, stay away from places that might cause you to go off the rails.

They also said that I had to turn up sober to all the following appointments and that they would breathalyse me at each visit on arrival, so that was the first and last time I went to that place, I didn't like it much anyway, it was full of lowlifes, like me.

I went to the therapist once. I kind of like therapy because I just get to sit and talk about myself for an hour, it makes a change from listening to other people all the time.

I didn't make it to my second appointment with her as I felt too messed up that day, I rang to explain that I wasn't well, they never got back to me. My other therapists in the past were nicer anyway, I suppose because they were ones I paid for.

I sunk further into depression and didn't really know what to do, I just wanted to set off walking away from it all.

Bella, who was still my ex at this point was my saviour. She sorted everything out for me to get sick pay, get my rent paid and looked after me in general every free moment she had.

She also organised for me and her to meet up with my manager who was the HR director at work, we met in a café and it was awful.

I was a shivering wreck and crying a lot when I tried to speak.

She wanted me to sort myself out and get back to work but I said it was past that so she said they would give me a payment If I signed an agreement to say that I wouldn't sue them. They had been sued by former employees in the past and they knew I'd been through a lot of crap there so it was understandable.

I said there was no way I'd ever sue them, I'm not that sort of person but I said I'd sign it anyway.

Looking back at that panic attack it was the best thing that could have happened to me at the time, It lead to me leaving a toxic place where I'd worked for nine years and was driving me insane, when I look back at my time there I was really badly mentally ill, I'm so glad I got out now

When I look back on this whole time I think, gosh I really was quite a fuck up.

I remember being in that bedsit and it was up there with the lowest points of my life.

I thought I was going to end up the same way as my dad, dying alone in my own shit.

I was sinking, sinking to the bottom, I hit rock bottom.

This is 19/21 of this series called 'Strange and Sometimes Troubled Memories' (the life and times of a persistent fool).

It will culminate in an exhibition where the blog posts will be displayed alongside the paintings, I also want to make it into a book.

Like and subscribe and share where you can if you'd be so kind.

Thanks for reading.

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