It's Remembrance Day soon.
Even if you think war is the last resort and you don't agree with it or condone it, please spare a thought for our guys and girls out there doing their jobs.
They don't get to choose which war they fight in. They are told.
They don't get to choose which orders they follow. They are told.
They don't get to choose when to come home to their families. They are told.
They don't get to choose what clothes to wear to work. They are told.
They don't get to choose who has their back in a war zone. They are told.
They are told what to do every day so that we have the freedom not to be told what to do every day.
No matter what our life throws at us, we can deal with it, safe in the knowledge that someone has our back. We don't get to choose who that is.
We will probably never meet them.
We will probably never know that a mother is getting a phone call right now to say her son or daughter won't be coming home, ever again.
We will probably never know that a husband or wife has just been told that their other half won't be coming home to kiss them goodnight or tuck in the kids, ever again.
Regardless of your personal feelings on war and the military, take a few moments tomorrow to spare a thought for those who put their lives on the line for a starting salary that is less than that of a checkout operator in Tesco.
I wonder how many of you would have the balls to stare a young soldier, airman/woman, naval seaman/wren in the face and tell them that what they are doing is a waste of time. That their life on the firing line is just a waste of time.
Our troops don't get asked which war they would like to fight in and which citizens of our country they would prefer to protect.
They just get on with the job in hand.
Here are 2 examples of fine men who have served their country:
Petty Officer Alan Raw
Royal Navy 1966 - 1989
Died in 1993 due to cancer caused by his service to our country
Private Albert Edward Hayes
East Surrey Regiment 1939 - 1945
Died in 1968 of cancer (after kicking Hitler's arse)
The medals speak for themselves.
RIP Dad and Grandad - hope you are both kicking arses wherever you are xx
I run my own business, am a director of another, I co-run a branch of a trade union and I'm a full time forensics and psychology student.
I am together, I am strong and I am a force to be reckoned with
But...
....If I don't have to leave my flat, I'm happy.
If I have to leave the flat, a myriad of mathematical equations come into play along with a billion other questions. Things I don't have to consider if I don't have to leave the flat:
- is 3 days too long to wear one pair of pants (knickers for my US pals)?
- is a 'rub down with an Andrex wet wipe' considered a bath?
- I am a white girl but I haven't washed my hair in so long I look like a Rasta without the tan - Tres Semme won't cut the mustard, I have actual dreadlocks.
- my duvet smells sweet because I think the bed bugs have suggested that they should give off different pheromones
- my pee smells of stale coffee
- my IBS makes me look like I'm 6 months pregnant
- my medication makes me look like my face shape has been inherited from the moon
- I pretend a drama has happened instead of just saying 'I'm not up to it today'
- I want to cry a lot of the time but I hold it in cos 'I'm the strong one'
- I get everything done and you'd never know I was having a bad day
- I've produced 8 films and folks are none the wiser as to my inner thoughts cos...
...I'm a doer.
- I know shit has to be done so I just get on and do it
- I sometimes wonder what it would be like to just stop breathing
- but then I panic cos I don't like enclosed spaces.
These are just some of the things that go through your head when you're in a depressed state.
Sometimes I just think this:
- what?
Nothing to add just, what?
There is no feeling or excitement or enthusiasm.
My depression was kicked off by my hideous divorce and, due to drama right up until this year in dealing with the fall out from it, my brain has not had a break.
I've been in fight or flight mode since 2009 and some people think I'm actually manic depressive (bi-polar) cos I'm so high energy most of the time. I'm not. I'm really not. I just feel this need to get shit done.
I am amazed that I have made it through 3 years of Uni. 1 year at Edinburgh and 2 years at Abertay (Dundee) on a fairly hard core forensics and psychology based degree.
I'm writing this now a) cos if it helps just one person it's worked and b) when I finally make my name, they can't pretend this is a new fangled thing that 'I'm afflicted with' to fill tabloid space - cos those PR people are fuckers and I've got their measure already so they can fuck off before they even start.
Happy smiley twatarsing face.
http://www.samh.org.uk/
http://www.depressionalliance.org/
http://www.actionondepression.org/
Petty Officer Alan Raw
