In Real Life - A Morning Ritual

A Coma Patient spends their entire existence in their own mind. Unconscious from the real world, they experience something an inexperienced person cannot put into words.

For the past seven months, I have been in a conscious coma. Trapped in my own mind in a scary world where I have no control, and all I want to do is escape. Emotionally I'm fractured, Physically I'm exhausted and Mentally im stuck.

And so I'm taking it back. I have a job interview in London as an Occupational Therapy Assistant for the Royal Hospital of Neuro-Disability. If I get the job I can finally move away from my family and do something meaningful with my life.

But, unfortunately I have to stay grounded. I may not get the job and I may be stuck here even longer than I have been already. And so - to at least get some semblance of control over my own life - I'm proposing a morning ritual.

I want to have more energy, so I think it's important that I try and go to bed a little earlier and get up a little earlier. I need to start eating breakfast, eating more often but smaller portions. I want to go back to kickboxing when I go to London, but my fitness has completely declined since I moved home.

Taking all these things into consideration, I'm devising the following morning ritual:

6.45am - Wake up, get dressed and drink a full glass of water.

7.00am - Go for a run. There's a fantastic canal that runs all the way to Leamington from my house. Take iPod, and at least try to run for the full duration of a song, and then walk for the full duration of another song.

Rinse, Repeat as Necessary.

7.30am - Come home and eat breakfast. Toast with cheese and marmite, or a large bowl of cereal. Drink another full glass of water, and then sip a glass of orange juice.

7.45am - Shower, shave (as necessary), brush teeth, style hair. Groom. Lavishly and happily. Dress, apply cologne/deoderant.

8.15am - Be ready for the day ahead.

It sounds so rediculous that a morning ritual needs to contain eating breakfast and male grooming. But I never eat breakfast, and although I always shower before I go out - I don't always pretty myself up or get fully dressed. I want to wake up and be fresh, be happy, and for 30 minutes of each day, have a clear mind of worry, of pain and of sorrow.

I need to learn to love myself again, because I've lost that. It's going to take time, more time than it took for the damage to occur, but I will be myself again.

The Talisman - Powerlust

The Talismans you shall never find,

Their power is too great,

They shall be contained forever more,

Their treacherous origin is the greatest betrayal.

Darkness Shadows Light, Taints Life,

It took advantage while it could.

The power of Light fell through Shadow,

While Darkness abandoned its evil intention.

Across the valley, through the trees,

This power sheds bright light and warmth.

Do not be fooled by the beauty of its wake,

Death will not wait for those feel it.

Darkness taints the powers of good,

The Talismans are tainted with evil.

Avoid the shadow, find the light,

Always follow the path of right.

Sanity is one of many tools,

You have been given all the rules.

Darkness Shadows Light, Taints Life,

The Talismans can bring nothing but death.

As sinners we can do no worse,

Than do our part to conceal this curse.

You have been warned, and

You must choose

If Life is a gift you are willing to lose.

I have not yet decided how many installments of the Talisman that I want to write. I'm still not entirely sure how long the story is. I have a basic guideline, but nothing concrete. The one thing I do know for sure is that the first part is to be called 'Powerlust', and chapter-wise it has been completely planned out. I know what is going to happen from beginning to end, it's just writing it - and deciding what it means, and where I'm taking it.

It's very odd having this idea, and not really sure exactly where it's going. When I first started it was all about the fantasy aspect - the world I was creating and Chate's Story. But then when I think about what I've been through I'm not sure whether or not I want to include some personal experience or representation into my work.

The one thing I do know is that the message of this book is motivation. Everyone has motivation and reason behind what they do. Good and Evil is not Black and White - everything is complicated - nothing is simple. And I guess for some people this may not be true - but that's definitely one thing about me that will transfer to the text - with me, nothing is simple, everything is complicated. I overthink things and worry and what's great is that the characters in my story are going to do the same. But sometimes they're not going to do anything about it. Sometimes the reader will get a clearer picture than the characters - because characters, as real people in their own right, do not always express how they're really feeling. But, I would like to convey that the reader will know how the characters are feeling, even if the characters don't let on to each other... if that makes sense...

This is starting to sound like the characters are voices in my head! Trust me, they're not!

Anyway - Powerlust is the first installment.

I want to throw the reader into the deep end - no time for explanations about the world or what's going on. The hidden city of Artana is being attacked by soldiers wearing strange suits who control the power of Fire. Chate, a guardsman of the city, is desperate to find his best friend Erin, who was also called into the battle. When Chate finds her - his life changes forever as the first Talisman of the series is discovered. The Talisman of Water.

Hidden in ice caverns that attack any person who dares to enter, The Talisman of Water was safeguarded against Corruption by The Elders of The Way - as each Talisman contains a terrible curse of insanity transfered with a single touch to a Talisman of Power. What Chate doesn't know is that he has been Chosen by the Talisman of Water to bring an end to the Corruption caused by the Primal Betrayal. An event that split the world into two Continents, Yentra and Athyn.

In Powerlust, the Adventure that follows will take him far away from his hidden city, into the Wastes of the Yentran Slave Trade Units, through the Ruined Forests of Orton, into the Depths of the Yentran Stronghold - The Yentran Research Facility. But he's not the only one, Yentra and Athyn are just as desperate to capture all of the Talisman's and release their powers, with CHAINS (a rebel group formed to destroy the dictatorships that Yentra and Athyn have become) rising from the Netherlands to stop them before they can obtain the ultimate powers.

Now if only I could write it...

In Real Life - Better The Devil You Know

Sorry.

But, that's it.

It's over.

I officially cannot take anymore.

I think after four years if your parents cannot accept your sexual orientation you are entitled to walk away from them.

After four years of Denial, Anger, Bargaining and Depression my parents seem to have missed Acceptance as the final stage of grief and looped back round to Anger again. It's hardly surprising as they have already gone through denial twice I just assumed I could cut out the other parts.

But physically, mentally and emotionally - I cannot take anymore.

Over the past month in which I haven't been blogging (sorry) my parents and I have been back and forth arguing over 'what's best for me'. It seems as though anything that makes me happy makes them miserable and vice versa. Last week we had one of the worst arguments we've had in a long time. Basically when I first moved home we had the first talk we had about my sexuality since I was 17. My mother acted understanding and as though she had come to terms with my 'choice' - and that she had been ok for a long time but hadn't wanted to upset me, and so didn't want to bring it up until I was ready. This isn't me putting words into her mouth - she actually used the phrase 'I've had four years to come to terms with this'.

I was totally shocked, I thought - 'wow, what a turn around'.

It turned out that this change of attitude was in fact a change of tactics.

Not even a day later my mother managed to attempt to manipulate me into not telling my new work colleagues that I am gay. She said that this was because she used to work for the same company and it would be awkward for her if people started questioning her on my sexuality and her reaction to it, etc etc. She didn't want people to ask questions because she doesn't want to have to admit that she was and is ashamed of me, and the 'destructive path' I have 'chosen' for myself.

Since then she has done everything she can to belittle my 'lifestyle choice' in any way she can. She calls my boyfriend 'your friend' instead of calling him 'your boyfriend' - something she's internally decided that if she doesn't say - it doesn't exist. She's warned me that the path I am following is dangerous as AIDS is a 'gay disease' (I kid you not, my mother actually believes this to be the case - she saw it on a documentary and believes it over her own son - who looked into it and found many sources that state that patient zero was most likely a member of an exploration team who got infected from a wound from an ape). The last straw is what she said to me in the latest argument. It just brought back too much of what she did when I was 17. She said that the Devil was destroying my life. I couldn't believe she would say that.

When I was 17 - in October, 2003 I came out to my parents. They were just watching Emmerdale, and I asked them to turn off the TV because I had something to tell them. I sat opposite them on the edge of the seat, my hands clasped together, and said very clearly 'Mom, Michael (my step dad), I can't go to church anymore'.

'Why not?'

'Because I'm gay'.

Without a moments pause my mother responded 'No you're not'. It wasn't dismissive. It wasn't even patronising. It was pleading. It was a desperate hope that the devastation I had just caused to my family was a lie, and that I was in fact the boy they had raised, honest, and good. I still am those things, but in that moment, I became someone else to them entirely. They now saw me as a walking, talking sin. Something that needed hiding away and cleaning.

The weeks that followed were some of the worst in my life to date. They would hardly look at me, and every so often I would be called into the living room to discuss my 'problem', during which times these discussions would turn into bitter arguments about how sinful and wrong I was, and how could I know I was gay. They didn't know what it meant - they just saw it (and still see it) as sordid sexual deviancy. Also the title of a book I was given - 'How to overcome your problem with sexual deviancy'. My mother also wrote me a letter. Three pages long it discussed the finer points of emotional blackmail, being that I would never know how much I had hurt them and what I had done to my family. How I could overcome this sin if only I would try, and on the end to add further insult all the emotional injuries she added an article from a Mormon Magazine containing homosexuality with the supposed comparative sin - paedophilia.

I shut down completely. When asking me what I thought of the letter I told them that I would try to be straight for them. Knowing completely in my head that I would never even attempt to change who I am - I kept quiet. I did as much of what I was told as I could - I even carried on attending church until I left home.

The experience that I had taught me that if God exists - he's abandoned his creation. Because no God would allow any faith to follow a set of guidelines that does what it did to my mother, and to me. And you can say that it was her choice to act the way she did and God may or may not condone her actions but I'm sorry - I don't blame God for what my mother did to me. I blame her for believing in God. I blame her for allowing her beliefs to ruin her relationship with her son. I blame her for forgetting the child she raised - forgetting his strengths and weaknesses and believing God over him.

And I know that everyone has their own beliefs but seriously - Satan - destroying my life? What about HER!? I have a good job, a great boyfriend, supportive friends, I have hobbies that I love and a life of my own. Notice in all of the good things I just mentioned my family do not make the list. They are it - everyone has problems, but my ONE problem is that my family refuse to accept me for who I am - and emotionally I'm dying because of it. Because they can't leave it alone. They have to push and push and push, until what? Until I change? I can't understand why they want me to do something that would make me miserable.

On two occassions she's asked me to go and see a Mormon Councellor. Oh wait, and get this, this is fantastic. Right. This so-called Councellor told my mother that gay men are the result of confused individuals watching gay pornography, which distorts the way in which they view and relate to men. Right. So if a straight guy watches gay porn... it will make him gay... and all gay men began straight and were what? FORCED to watch gay porn before realising who they were?!

My mother told me this with triumph in her eyes and conviction in her voice. Her own son tells her that he is not a bad person, that he is in fact a very good person, selfish - yeah, but still a good person. I care about people, I work hard and im passionate. I'm excruciatingly polite and very naive. My own mother believed a Mormon Councellor over her own son.

And then asked him to understand it from her point of view.

That's the worst thing. I can understand her point of view. I used to be religious, I used to be Mormon myself. But in realising that I am gay, I felt ultimately betrayed by something I had put my entire being into. That's another sore subject. My mother is keen to ask at every opportunity whether or not if I wasn't gay I would still be Mormon. The truth is I probably would be. But I never give her the satisfaction of just saying yes because it gives her false hope. That if I remember the Testimony I had in Mormonism that I'll realise the sin I'm commiting and come back to the flock. She's also admitted that she's in the peak of dispair, praying daily that I will change.

And so the emotional blackmail continues.

The other worst thing is that she is a great mother. She cares, she's selfless, has always done everything she can to take care of us, has always been generous and always loving. She's never hit me and she's never thrown me out.

But she's completely warped at the same time. Her love for us has warped her frame of rationality. She's manipulative, she lies, and she cannot take responsibility for her actions. She tries, but everytime she apologises she follows it up with 'I only want what's best for you', 'can you not see it from my point of view?' or 'I'm at my wits end, if you really want to know'.

No.

I don't.

I really don't.

I just want it to be over.

In Real Life - The Man-Period

You've heard of Man-Flu - welcome to the Man-Period.

Studies have shown that although men do not bleed from their genitals once a month, they do run a monthly cycle - one that can cause hormonal shifts, mood swings, aggression and all sorts of other lovely things. I haven't figured out my cycle yet but whenever I have an emotional week I put it down to my Man-Period.

It has been an emotional week.

It started with an Anxiety Attack on Monday morning. I had just finished work, headed home and was trying to sort out issues I had with my bank. They were not helpful. In calling companies, my bank, the companies again, my bank again - I still had not made any progress. I made one final phone call to the bank and that's when I started having chest pains. Everytime I tried to breathe in a sharp pain prevented me from getting air into my system. I started to panic. My heart rate increased. I needed more oxygen. The more I tried, the less I got.

The pattern is a vicious cycle.

I called NHS Direct in the hope that they could calm me down. The opposite occured as they began asking me the standard questions of a patient having a heart attack. The panic increased. They then told me they were sending an ambulance. As they put me on hold to transfer the call I was sick several times. No one was in the house to help me. I was alone. I couldn't breathe. I wanted to scream, or at least cry - but I couldn't. A First Response Unit arrived moments later, a very kind lady called Sue helped me regain control of my breathing, though it took several minutes and some Pure Oxygen to do it. I was shaking, and had pins and needles up my arms. An ambulance arrived shortly after. Apparently in my panic to breathe I had hyperventilated. It wasn't a pleasant experience. After they left I decided it would be best if I just went to sleep - as I had worked the night shift again so I really did need sleep.

I spent Tuesday and Wednesday with my Boyfriend, Andy. Which was just what I needed. The time that we spend together is just bliss, he's an amazing person. At first when we met I think we were both quite nervous, liking each other a lot but not sure how the other one felt so perhaps not being as open as we both wanted to be.

About a month after we first officially decided we were boyfriends - (is there a turn of phrase 'boyfriend and boyfriend'...? No... I didn't think so...) - I went on a kickboxing training weekend in Holland. It was dire - I hardly knew anyone, I was one of the least experienced fighters there, and the focus of the training was 'inflict as much pain as humanly possible' - the opposite of my kickboxing mantra 'I'm doing this because it's so much fun, not because I actually want to hurt people'. On top of that - the presentation of an illness - labyrinthitis - had just begun. Adding a ferry to an ear infection (that causes dizziness and vomiting) is a disaster waiting to happen.

Anyway - so during this evil trip I was constantly complaining to Andy about how SHITE it was. (I'm a complainer - you will learn this) He then sneakily arranged with my flatmates in London that he would come and pick me up from the drop off point when I got back (I had arranged that my flatmate was going to do it). So I get back to England to a service station thinking my flatmate is on her way - and low and behold - my boyfriend is there waiting for me. That sneaky bastard. In the 5 months we've been together I still haven't got him back for that - but I will. To add to the shocking-ness of this, I had also complained that I hadn't had time to collect the final Harry Potter book that had been released the day after I left for Holland. The boyfriend had gone out and bought it for me!

That's what he's like. He's amazing. Aside from the fact that he's patient, loving, kind, funny, sexy, sweet and thoughtful - not only does he put up with me and my complaining/complicating but he actually LIKES me for who I am - how messed up is he?! Heh. It was then that I told him I love him. We love each other. How messed up are we?!

So yes, 5 months down the line we're blissfully happy... except for the fact that I've had to move in with my parents because of illness and they have said point blank that they never want to meet him and he is forbidden from entering the house - and his parents think that I'm his 'friend' who comes to stay occassionally. Nothing is simple. Everything is complicated.

Back to this week. After two blissful days with Andy (full of food, laziness and of course the casual dose of 'one thing leading to another') I was thrown back into reality with a drill. No, not metaphorically - I had a dental appointment on Thursday. My teeth - now cleaned - have actual gaps between them. As gross as it sounds I actually miss the plaque that built up my enamel into a smooth line of front teeth. Granted the top jaw is and has always been FUBAR (Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition for those of you who don't know) but my bottom jaw (apparently needed cleaning - but) was lovely - with one slightly crooked tooth that was endearing rather than freakish. Now the whole mouth is just freakish and I'm scared to open it in case people actually flee from my presence. Although thinking about it people should probably have been fleeing before I had them cleaned...

Since then I've just been really emotion. No. Not because of the freakish teeth. This week I've been talking to my friends in London a lot and I've already planned two visits for this month to my Home. I've also looked on my kickboxing academy's website and they're opening a new club, which is awesome for them I'm really glad its expanding. I just miss it so much. I don't think I've missed it as much as I do now, now that I'm on the mend and can actually start planning my escape from this hell-hole that is my parents home.

And so it's been an emotional week...

Line Drawn.

Inspiration - Square Enix

A staple of the Final Fantasy series is the use of crystals to represent primal forces - Earth, Air, Fire and Water. These crystals usually have a consciousness that allows them to give 'the chosen warriors' magical powers in the form of classes - Warrior, Mage, Healer and Theif for example. In Final Fantasy VI and VIII this system is replaced with the idea that entities known as Espers or Gardian Forces (respectively) can inhabit characters and grant them temporary or permanent powers.

Final Fantasy VII - my favourite of the series - uses Materia. Glowing energy filled with magic, it represents solidified Life Blood of the Planet. Using it allows individuals to connect directly with the Planet and call on powers to attack, heal and assist.

All these systems have a common theme, that an entity of greater power than the characters is putting trust in the party to complete a goal. There is little explanation or representation of the creation of the world - or what these entities represent on a larger scale.

I myself have been through a lot because of Religious Belief. It's an important issue to me - one that I'm not sure I've completely come to terms with. In writing this story I want to portray the difficulties faced by both religious and non-religious individuals - how they relate to each other - how they relate to the world - and how both use their own beliefs to manipulate and achieve their ends. There is no Good and Evil, no Right and Wrong. Just people. Some people want power. Others want peace. A few want chaos. That's not to say people don't make bad choices - but there is a reason for them.

In Libra, the world in which The Talisman takes place - there is only one religion. It is called The Way. For years it has been misguided by the idea that the forces that created and govern the world are in direct opposition. Good and Evil.

They are in fact Light and Dark - they do not work in opposition as it would break Primeval Law for one to exist without the other. Light governs Earth and Water - the essences of growth and life. Dark governs Fire and Air - the forces of destruction, progression and decay. Without Light there is no Life, and without Dark there is no Death. No progression.

When I first played Final Fantasy VII - Square Enix became a name to remember. The story was phenomenal - the gameplay genius. In one game not only do you get to battle insane monsters and save the world, you get motorbike chases, snowboarding, and all manner of other side quests. It was the first RPG I ever played and the idea that a game could portray such an amazing story was completely new to me.

You may see their influence in my writing, but there are many more.

Welcome to My Story

This... is My Story.

I should explain.

When I was 17 I played a game called Final Fantasy X for the Playstation2. Love it. It's got a great story, amazing graphics, stategic gameplay and a sophisticated advancement system. So when the long awaited sequel Final Fantasy X-2 was released, I was obviously very eager to get my hands on it.

This game could only be described as a complete disaster in comparison. Not one single reason for its existence. It was literally like somebody went along with a teenage wet-dream about Final Fantasy characters acting like Charlie's Angels and Square Enix backed the budget for it! Combine that with pointless mini-games, a dragged out plot and a twisted attempt at storytelling - DISASTER.

I was livid. I was betrayed. My favourite game developers were Sell Outs. Capital S. Capital O.

When you play games with amazing stories it's difficult to believe that a company so esteemed in excellence could sink so low. To most people this would seem minor but I myself took it very personally.

During one of many daydreams in which I overthink the complications of what should actually be a very simple life I came to a simple conclusion - I could do better. I could come up with a better story than this game that was published and backed by a multi-million *insert currency of choice here* budget.

And so I started developing ideas.

Standard Square Enix - searching for crystals, but not - they couldn't be crystals because that would be too obvious they needed a fresher take on the idea.

Elemental Forces of Power - but where do they come from? There could be a really good back story from all this.

Religious Ideals vs Liberal Minds - a controversial but current issue - is it possible that everyone could be right? Or everyone could be wrong? Does it matter?

And thus - THE TALISMAN - was created.

The message of this story is that there is no Good and Evil, no Black and White, no Right and Wrong. There is Positive and Negative, Action and Consequence, Purpose and Reason.

This blog is an outlet to vent Real Life complications (let's face it - we all have them) whilst delving into my Fantasy World of Libra - The Non-Existent Universe in which My Story takes place. There will be character profiles, chapter ideas, possible plot developments/back story ideas as well as the creation of the fantasy world, Libra.

Will it be an idea for a book? A game? Who knows? I'm doing this because I love stories, and now I have one to tell. I love writing and though I feel I need to improve my writing style - I have something I want to write. I hope you enjoy it.