My writing journal – today the universe spoke to me (and no, not in a delusional way)

Life is bloody weird and random isn’t it? It makes no goddamn sense and yet sometimes you have to wonder if there is more to it, some kind of grand scheme. There isn’t, not really, I mean how can there be, when you consider the billions of people in poverty and suffering starvation or at the hands of crackpot governmental regimes. We live in an unequal world and despite everything I am lucky and grateful for my lot, because in this cosmic lottery, I – and the majority of people who read this – are jackpot winners, and multiple rollover jackpot winners at that, simply by the luck of the draw being in our favour in the location we were born. Luck, not design. I refuse to believe it could be design; that somehow my life, by this grand design, is worth more than some poor fucking kid in Africa.

So really it makes no sense for me to even suggest, to be so foolish as to even think the universe could possibly speak to me, even in a small, ultimately insignificant way. And yet…


I was doing a lot of thinking this morning about the last few years, in particular an encounter with a doctor five years ago. I have a post written about it that I will post later. It’s quite an angry post but that’s how I felt writing it.

My mind is still racing as it has been the last few days and I still feel restless, but also there’s a thread of melancholy running through it all because I’ve been thinking about how long it’s taken to get to this point of starting to get a nailed on diagnosis.

Anyway I went for a long walk – when I feel restless I’ll usually walk anywhere between 7-10 miles depending what route I take – and as I was walking I felt so fucking sad, like I could burst into tears at any moment. Cars were going by and I couldn’t shake the thought that I could step in front of one any second.  Just do it and welcome the impact. It’s weird, I don’t honestly think I’ll act on those impulses, not now, but they’re still there, still raw and still too scarily acceptable, like they don’t even disturb me anymore, not like the first time I had a thought like that and I thought ‘wow, things have taken a turn for the worse here if these thoughts have started’.

So all of this was going on in my mind when up ahead I saw a mobility scooter. The pavement is narrow at this point and the scooter wasn’t moving. I step into the road to walk around it but have to wait because a bus is coming. The bus speeds past me, I feel the wind and think ‘yep, that would definitely obliterate me if I ever listen to those horrible urges.’ I walk past the scooter and as I step back onto the pavement I see why the guy on the scooter wasn’t moving. There are two big ol’ obstructions on the pavement. The guy sees me and starts motioning at me. He’s clearly more than a little disabled, like he can’t even talk, he’s just gesturing and making sounds. I nod at him and give him a thumbs up to indicate I’ll move them out of the way. I go over to them and fuck me, they’re heavier than they look. It takes a good few goes because of the shape of them to roll them out the way but finally I do and he waves at me before driving off.

here's what I moved
here’s what I moved


I stood there and wondered how long he’d been there waiting for someone, ultimately waiting for me. I just had this sudden surge of positivity. It was like someone saying to me ‘hey, you’re still needed, if you want to live a life helping people then you actually need to be here to do it. People need you, even strangers that don’t know you and haven’t met you yet.’ I mean, that’s literally what I was writing this morning, that in the future I want to help people in some capacity but right now I just don’t know how it’ll manifest itself.

Is it the happy ending to end all happy endings? Of course not, I still feel irritable and annoyed my mind won’t settle down. But what it did is add a bit of much needed steel to my mind-set, which along with my fighting qualities, has been unusually lacking in the last few days.




  1. […] You see, you walk a damn fine line between normality and madness when it comes to bipolar. Sometimes the sheer energy of a place can send you into a manic state where you lose your judgement. As I say, I don’t have romantic feelings for her anymore – I’d question my sanity if I still did – just happy ones that she’s getting married. For that reason I think I would have struggled not to get swept up in the day. It may sound silly, but from past experience, I can look at that mood scale I referred to yesterday and easily foresee myself racing up the scale. Or maybe not, maybe I’d race down it, but whatever the mental response, I doubt I would have come out of it feeling balanced. The sheer amount of socialising, the mental toil of being switched on, the question of alcohol; would I be strong enough to refuse? If I did how would I be able to handle the question of why I wasn’t drinking? Would I be comfortable enough to be open? Or would I crumble, succumb and lose my mind to excess and put myself in danger over the coming weeks from the skewed reality alcohol leaves me with. I’ve written enough recently about being mentally exhausted, I mean it wasn’t that long ago I was talking about my mind being perfectly accepting of very dark thoughts. […]

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