I just browsed an Academic Report on Autistic Burnout. My Burnout was caused by strenuous revision for School – so much effort, without ideal results – until I entered final year of University in 2000/01. Then the enthusiasm for study waned.
I still have structure issues, in my life, but the sale of my family Home and Land provided a suitable nest-egg. It’s living solvent FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE which I must focus on now. Again burnout after being on the computer; then having to tidy up my place.
During the Lockdown; I took plenty of supplements. I managed the madness well. But now, it’s possibly a sense of Survivor’s Guilt. Lockdown wasn’t completely foreign to me, but it did exacerbate my anxiety.
I feel exhausted to such an extent that I often don’t wake up until the afternoon. Traditionally, I’m more productive at nighttime. The work I do is mostly late in the evening.
Over the past four months, since my last post, I kept at my solicitor and accountant about the remainder of the money owed, from the sale of my family home and land. My brother and I will get the money next week. The final obstacle to financial freedom is the Probate in Dublin. This is why I don’t want a United Ireland. 🙂
This afternoon, I got my ears dewaxed at a clinic outside Randalstown. I knew the back road to get there. But after FIVE suction attempts on the left ear – the right ear only required one – I felt light-headed. But I went to a shop to buy water. Then when reentering the main Antrim to Ballymena Road; my path was cut by two tourists with Caravans. But, in the end, I got on the road; after being forced into a side park. Then I got back on the route to Toome. Then I swerved downhill on the Roguery Road to avoid Traffic cones. This, while Radio X played ‘Helter Skelter’ on ‘Best of British’ hour.
I had diarrhoea when I returned home, so I’ll lie low tonight.
And we’ll have no talk of next week’s Jubilee here. 🙂
I had cold symptoms over the past weekend, and have decided to voluntarily self-isolate; as opposed to taking a lateral flow test. There was a video, where a can of beer produced a positive result. Therefore, I’m cautious of the test’s measurements.
Also, this Wednesday, I’ll undergo a fast. The fast is to heal families; broken by strained relationships. For so long, families in this country have been destroyed by conflicts. Usually over money, and status, as well as adultery and abuse. From my own perspective, I didn’t appreciate the role of the family unit until I had none left.
I’m still struggling with vices. But I keep picking myself up, and trying again. It’s how to succeed.
Another planned Lockdown;
Sleep issues; I moved into my new home seven weeks ago.
Money burning a hole in my pocket; Damn Fiat Currency.
Bees threw away a promising position; last-gasp equaliser by Bamford at Elland Road.
Moortown won the Tyrone Intermediate Championship, and won their Quarter-Final in Ulster comfortably.
Tru-D’oh plans the Mark of the Beast in Canada.
Arsenal blowing promising positions.
Ah, well! At least my side of the street’s clean this Christmas.
I now have the keys for my new home. In the meantime, I’ll keep moving everything over; while thanking God for his goodness.
My plan is to buy another property, to rent out, while focusing on my vision; poetry and podcasting. Watch this space.
Also, I’ll attend a Month’s Mind Mass this evening – at Lissan Chapel – for a Fourth Cousin who committed suicide.
Last Friday, the family home and land sold for good. But the septic tank for the bungalow I’m set to move to is in a neighbouring premises. However, that is being seen to. Plus, I received an alert letter; as a stonking great water bill is due my way. The most obvious leakage was resolved today, but others need to be discussed with the new owner.
I had to deal with an issue which arose with the Christian Fellowship I had attended; which made me decide to stick to Facebook and YouTube to follow their services. But they’ll open a new Café next month, which I hope to attend regularly. God is shutting one door, so I may enter another.
Hard to believe that it will be Twenty years since 9/11. It will also be two years since Daniel Johnston passed away. That day is also the All-Ireland Final. Tyrone V Mayo. It will be a spectacle, but one team will be in the receptacle. (Imagine Patsy O’Hagan writing that?)
With September on its way, I don’t have to worry about school or Uni anymore, I will be moving to a bungalow I placed a deposit on – a few miles from where I live – within the next three or four weeks. God willing, the sale of my family home and land concludes this coming Friday.
Given the amount of money I’ll receive, minus the value of my new home, I should have enough to last me thirty years; provided I maintain an expenses cap of £1,000 a month. With the prices of goods going up alarmingly, that will be a mammoth task. However, I have become teachable. I may even begin growing spuds for myself. (the new bungalow has a greenhouse in its back garden, as well)
I have also started using Brave browser, and they have ‘Rewards’ with Crypto Trading. Perhaps I would need help on that, I have about as much foresight as those who planned the Afghanistan/Iraq invasions. However, I have been curious on the issues of alternative investments. Never enter the Jungle without a Guide.
Last Wednesday, I was at Belfast Zoo with WAVE Omagh. Which brings me to the Proposed Troubles Pension. I have up to five years to complete the application, but only get one crack at it. Hopefully, I’ll get sufficient evidence of my Mental Health issues, and loss of income, caused by my Father’s death to merit an award.
That’s the plan.
Meanwhile, in the Gaelic Football World, Tyrone defied logic by beating Kerry in yesterday’s All-Ireland Semi-Final. In Proper Football, the Bees are still unbeaten. But Arsenal still haven’t scored, and had another tame surrender.
I have disassociated throughout this evening. After thinking of the case, in Ardoyne, where a Mentally-Ill mum stabbed her baby boy to death – her two-year-old daughter is in Intensive Care – and hearing that the Covid spike in Belfast cancelled the Cancer Ward, I felt numb and helpless. Not to mention trying to get a more expensive Giffgaff Goodybag; to get more value for Data.
The NHS site for Dissociative Disorder mentioned Eating Disorders, PTSD and Additional Stress. I may vouch for all three, off the bat. From my own experience, I depended on a Food Bank on Monday; since then, compulsively having bowls of Coco Pops.
The Bank’s solicitors – Swine – sought Death Certificates for a brother and sister of my granddad; who were mentioned on the maps for the sale of my home and land. However, I made the initiative by contacting a relative – who keeps in contact with my connections on granddad’s side of the family – and also applying for a death notice online – with a £7.50 PayPal payment – for the sister. Once I obtained the Word Document, I password-protected the file (GDPR) and emailed it to my solicitor’s secretary. God-willing, there’ll be no more bureaucratic hurdles to jump.
The purchase of the bungalow I sought has been agreed, subject to survey, thanks to a £2,000 cheque from my uncle; which I promise to pay back. It was for a holding deposit. It’s looking up.
For now, I have to live hand-to-mouth; until my next PIP payment. I depended on a Food Bank on Tuesday, and would have to rely on another one next Wednesday. However, I’m grateful for the option.
Moving is the most stressful moment in life; after bereavement. I can now vouch for that. Sorting out the wreckage of my family’s financial past is long and arduous. But I am learning so much about myself, as I go along.
I thought, as a kid, I would have the dream life. My Adult life was a Nightmare, by comparison, but it has forged me.