Christmas is coming and it is going to be yet another milestone that Darrell and I won't be enjoying together. This is actually my favourite time of year, so not spending it with my partner is going to be difficult. I have seriously been thinking about upping sticks and just getting on a plane and going to be with him in Australia - easier said than done I hear you say, but I am finding life particularly taxing at the moment; I am not enjoying it one bit!

'Compared to other people, I really don't have a lot to complain about!' This is all I am told, encouraged to 'knock myself out of it,' whatever 'it' is and get on with life. However, these are the people who really have no concept of what I am going through and the torment I feel every day. These are the people with perfect lives, wife, 2.4 children and an 'easy ride;' these are the people who have no idea what it is like to struggle, fight, battle and strive, and I am sick of hearing their opinions!

Today I am feeling angry, angry at the World and angry with myself. I wish I had gone to Australia when I had the chance, despite the difficulties involved; I surely would have muddled through. This bloody pandemic is getting me down yes, but the reaction of people is grating on me even more. No one cares about anyone, just themselves and how they are missing their annual holiday, can't go to their favourite restaurant or have that extra pint in the pub, because it is closing early. I am fed up with their selfish attitude towards others. They only wear masks when they want, refuse to socially distance, break all the rules and think they have the right to ignore the rest of us - well they don't, and they should be bloody ashamed of themselves!

I may well not be suffering like other people in the physical sense, but mentally I am drained and at the end of my tether. I haven't seen my husband for a year and have no idea when I will be allowed to see him again. If all you have to whinge about, is boredom on a Saturday night, because everything shuts at 10pm, the lack of quinoa on supermarket shelves or the queues outside Primark for your cheap, nasty clothes, then you really have no idea what heartache is. Yes I am bitter and feeling sorry for myself, yes it is rather self-indulgent, sybaritic and unrestrained but I have a voice and today I want to shout out loud from the rooftops... I have a reason to roar, can you really say the same!

Rant over!!!!

Over the last few months I have been gradually changing my lifestyle for many reasons. As you are all aware, I suffer with chronic IBS and have a number of underlying conditions, that probably make me more susceptible to food sensitivity. These have only been noticeable since I returned to Portsmouth from Spain and probably came to the fore, because of the changes I made to my lifestyle when I returned to the UK.

In Spain, I was an expert at living frugally. It was extremely difficult getting hold of the convenience, processed food readily available here. Of course, you could visit one of the many British supermarkets, stocking such products, but these were expensive and few and far between. It was much easier living in the same way the Spanish do and with money in short supply, I began changing my whole outlook on life.

Rather than buying British food from expensive international food aisles in Dialprix, Consum or Mercadona, I bought seasonal fruit and vegetables from the market in Gran Alacant, or the more affordable grocery stores. I chose to buy meat and other products that were on offer, pairing the ingredients for a nutritious 'cheap' alternative; cooking in bulk and freezing leftovers. This worked well for me, and I was able to live off twenty to thirty euro a week. I had graduated from the wasteful existence I had in Britain, to environmentally friendly sustainability, throwing very little away and learning to live a life more in tune with my Mother and Fathers childhood in the 1950s.

In 2020, I am living my life in similar fashion, but for very different reasons. In Spain, I had very little money to live on, so I had to readjust my lifestyle to take account of a limited income. Today I continue to cook in bulk because of the busy life I lead. Spending one day a week cooking for the next seven days, means I don't have to spend hours in the kitchen each evening, when I should be resting from long shifts at work.

My diet has also changed dramatically, since my Gastro Intestinal issues were diagnosed. I am choosing to follow a predominantly plant based diet; meat can be very difficult to digest, for me for at least, so alternatives have been a Godsend as I have tried to make my diet more IBS friendly and healthy. I have never really looked at this type of food before, let alone actually eat it, so it has been a leap into the unknown, but so far I have been pleasantly surprised by the choice out there.

As well as cooking up large pots of Quorn Stew, I am also trying out the other meat alternatives - this week, sausages, Quorn fillets and meatballs. The sausages are particularly delicious, full of flavour and better than normal sausages; yes you heard that right, I actually prefer eating them. Even the sausage rolls taste better in my humble opinion and most importantly do not have any adverse reactions with my GI issues.

However, there is a downside to all this meat free living and it is the cost. It is still far cheaper to eat animal products; if I am honest I would spend half the money I do on my weekly shop, if I could still happily enjoy it, but the truth is I can't. Eating meat is no longer compatible with my well-being and I have had to make dramatic changes to accommodate conditions that I never really knew I had.

I have discovered many foods that I can still eat - sushi, most fresh vegetables, Brie and Camembert, so at least I can still enjoy some cheese, although I no longer eat any other form of dairy. Also, I can eat most nuts, rice, cereal and my all-time favourite Marmite, which is also great for adding flavour to tofu and Quorn. I have removed all refined sugar, including cakes, chocolate and ice cream from my diet, to my absolute horror. It does seem on the surface at least, that I don't get any enjoyment from food any more and I suppose that is partly true.

All the things I used to enjoy, I can no longer eat; I can't remember the last time I had a piece of extra mature cheddar cheese, a chocolate finger, bottle of wine or tub of Ben and Jerry's, but I have found some friendly substitutes that have helped to ease the cravings. Dairy free desserts and chocolate can be quite appetising and causes me no harm whatsoever. It feels as though my body has started to heal after a lifetime of abuse and eating food that was no good for me at all.

Because of the changes I have made, I have been able to reintroduce some food that I couldn't eat just a few weeks ago. Until recently I have only been able to eat sourdough bread, but today I have reintroduced the normal, bog standard sliced loaf, which is about a third of the price and in my opinion tastes far better. I can also eat some pies and pastries, but not too much, so today I was able to buy a couple of home made pies from Zerina at Cancer Research and have had no adverse reaction; I am starting to live life again.

IBS is evolving all the time; one day I can eat one thing and on other days not, so I have to work my way around the complexities these ailments cause. I have taken my eating habits back to basics and gradually reintroduced a few items that I can now stomach once again, but it really has been hard work getting here. As someone who has always been able to eat what I want, I have found this process very difficult to deal with, but it has taught me much about myself and the nature of my body. It has shown me a way of living I have never experienced before, consequently making me feel far healthier and looking a lot trimmer than I was.

Over the last six months I have lost a stone in weight, I am walking a lot more and I have finally started to get to grips with my health, which does continue to cause me problems every day. I do feel fitter in many respects, but unravelling the pain that has been a constant in my life has been difficult. I have had to scream from the rooftops to see Doctors and Consultants, especially during this pandemic, but finally the results are beginning to show through. Exercise every morning and night is helping to ease the back pain I suffer with every day, and I am finally feeling positive and relieved, that I understand problems that have plagued my life for too long. If I have learned anything from this period, it's simply, I can change, adapt and make my life better. When I put my mind to something I can achieve all I want to. So far I'm half way there and thank God the light in finally at the end of the tunnel, helping to point the way to a more productive, satisfying and fulfilling life, without the mistakes of the past!

Darrell and I have always been inseparable, rarely spending anytime apart, despite coming from different parts of the World. Our biggest battles always revolved around remaining together, no matter what the circumstances. There were many milestones, that contributed to our outlook on life and despite the obstacles in our way, we never once considered giving up on each other.

I have always been a determined character and when I put my mind to something, I can achieve everything I wish for. As a gay man, I had to work harder than most to realise my dreams and more often than not, everything I did, no matter how hard I tried, ended in abject failure. The one aspect of my life I could always rely upon and be proud about, was my relationship, and the belief I have in partnership, between two individuals, no matter what their sexuality. I suppose I always looked towards my parents for an example in this regard, who remained together, despite what transpired in their life, up until Mum's death last year.

Darrell is a husband, but he is also a soul mate. We are very different personalities, but essentially our perspective on life is the same. Our relationship is the most important foundation; the Linch-pin that holds both of us together, even in the most arduous of circumstances. 'Lesser mortals' couldn't have endured the hardships we have and still remained the strong unit we are today. Together we can achieve anything we put our minds to, even if the ending isn't always as we would have liked.

It is true to say, we have failed more times than I care to remember, the resulting pain and anguish has always taught us much about human nature and more importantly ourselves, as we claw our way back to a semblance of normality once again. The process of fighting, struggling and resistance is often difficult to overcome, but no matter what the circumstances, we have always, without fail, managed to rebuild and restart our lives. Most of us have knock backs along the way, but when you consider our backgrounds, sexuality and lack of support, we have suffered more than most. Nobody told me how bumpy the ride would be when I met Darrell, if they had, maybe I would have thought twice, but the fact is, no one can tell you who to fall in love with; love does indeed conquer all.

I still believe in happy endings, and  hope we will live happily ever after, even when the odds are stacked against us. We will never have the security my parents enjoyed, and will always struggle for every penny we earn, but ultimately we can find peace together. Whether we are living in a caravan in Spain, a flat in a tower block or a tent in a field, we will have each other. The pull of dreams unfulfilled and the memories of times, when we did accomplish all we desired, the travelling around the World and people we met, lived, loved, cried and fought with, is a reminder of what it is like to live, really live and experience a life that others could only dream of.

When we speak to each other once a week, we can put the World to rights, discuss our hopes and fears for the future and encourage each other to do better. As we try and comprehend this strange new planet we now inhabit, positivity, strength of character and a desire to succeed, should gently push us towards a destiny where fortune prevails.... Even if it doesn't! All we need is time, a bit of luck and a belief in ourselves, then maybe, just maybe we'll be winners once again!

Mollie has arrived from Australia, where she has been for the last two years. Like most of our personal belongings she was shipped to Perth when we left Spain in 2018 and that is where she stayed. I asked Darrell if he would post her several weeks ago as my life isn't the same without her. This grand old lady has travelled  with both of us, all over the World and I thought it was about time she came back home.

The truth is, Darrell and I haven't decided where we want to stay long term, but it looks likely to be somewhere in Europe, when this Pandemic is finally over, so Mollie would have to return to this part of the World one day. She was one of the few possessions I kept when we left our home in Gran Alacant, and she is a big part of my life, containing many memories.

This is the picture I commissioned when the actress Mollie Sugden died. She was the lady I grew up with on the television set, as I sat down to watch 'Are You Being Served' with my Mother in the 1980s. Of course, it wasn't until later I understood much of the meaning behind the comedy that was a part of the show, but that didn't stop me laughing at sketches that still resonate today.

Like most comedy shows of the 1970s and 80s, they weren't particularly politically correct and would never be instructed today, but 'Are You Being Served' echoed a different Age, that seemed far more innocent than now. Mollie was an actress who never failed to make me laugh and a house full of laughter is the most important aspect to life. Happiness at times of stress and upheaval is the key to success, which is why Mollie is home where she belongs!

Over the last few weeks, my IBS has been extremely painful and I have been trying everything I can to elevate the symptoms. I can't tell you how many times I have adjusted my diet, introduced different supplements, removed, what I think are offending items and generally done all I can to feel better. Usually I can do something to help and by a process of elimination  can manage my symptoms quite well. Recently I just haven't been able to get to grips with the pain and if I am honest, it has been getting me down.

I suppose the throbbing I experience is worse than most; I also have Diverticulitis and a hiatus hernia to contend with, all part of a digestive nightmare, that is unrelenting; I have persistent stomach cramps every day. From the moment I wake up, until the time I go to bed, I am continuously dealing with what I can only describe as niggling discomfort. On a bad day, it will turn into full-blown agony.

Stress, worry and circumstances also play a big role in how bad or not I am feeling. As someone who suffers with anxiety, I am forever adjusting my lifestyle and way of thinking, in order to compensate for the uneasiness I have to deal with. Each of the 'minor' conditions I have, require a slightly different diet and yes that does include anxiety. I generally try to follow a low FODMAP diet, but it doesn't always work as well as one would expect. There has been times, where I have tried to introduce a new or different food into my diet and the consequences have been dire; I have literally been left doubled up in pain.

The day before yesterday was a bad day for me. I had been sick, probably due to the hernia, and I was feeling run down. I decided to phone the GP surgery. Not something I often do these days, since Coronavirus has taken priority, but the pounding was so difficult to contend with, I felt I didn't have a choice. My GP phoned back yesterday and offered me some advice, I hadn't been given before. I am guessing from the conversation we had, she also suffers with IBS, speaking very knowledgeably on the subject. After describing my symptoms, she wasn't concerned I was facing anything too bad. One of the major problems with IBS, is a sustained feeling you have something more serious, which increases anxiety and thus makes symptoms worse. She believed I was just going through a rough patch and recommended 'fasting' as a way to help with the pain.

Fasting is a way of allowing my stomach the time to calm down and deal with IBS, without having to process food at the same time. There are many nerve endings in this region of the body and people who suffer with this condition react to pain very differently to others. What may seem trivial to some, is mirrored a hundred times over in my case, which seems logical considering worry and stress (usually about things that do not matter, ) play the biggest part in reactions or rather over reactions to this disorder.

She told me I should fast for twelve, ideally fourteen hours, to let my stomach adjust itself and then introduce eating gradually, taking notice of the body's reaction to each foodstuff and adjusting my diet accordingly. So today I am fasting; I haven't eaten since 5pm yesterday and will eat tomorrow morning, leaving it as long as I can. I have never given up food willingly for any length of time, certainly not recently, so I will see how this goes. At the moment I feel hungry as hell, but my stomach feels so much better and I have little irritation and soreness. Hopefully I will be able to calm this flare up down and try to get back to a semblance of normality. Unless you suffer with IBS, you really have no idea how painful it can be; it was good to finally talk to someone who understood the difficulties I faced and thankfully gave me advice, that I have never received before - I just hope it works!

The World does seem to be in a constant state of flux at the moment. The pandemic is still raging across continents, taking lives indiscriminately, creating uncertainty and leaving a trail of death and destruction that will take generations to mitigate. After the death of George Floyd, the 'Black Lives Matter' (human rights organisation) campaign is gathering pace globally, as black people fight for equality and campaign against violence and systematic racism towards black people. And all of us juggle our ever decreasing finances to make ends meet, as unemployment continues to rise, in the wake of COVID-19. These are strange, difficult and thought-provoking times, a period that will be talked about for years to come. The adversities all of us face on a daily basis, do indeed make us who we are and with circumstances the way they are I am reminded of my own battles, many of which I still fight today!

I was always a child who suffered at the hands of bullies. I knew I was gay from about the age of eleven and consequently found it hard to hide who I was. Back in the early 1980s, it was not acceptable to be homosexual  and I suffered physically and mentally as a result. When I look back at my school days I shudder at just how bad they were and what I had to do to survive. There was of course an element of lying about who I was, but there was more than that. I knew I was different, found men attractive and couldn't be who I wanted to be, but I was still a young boy growing up at a time of great prejudice, with feelings that were so different to my peers and as a result I became a 'self isolating outcast,' spending the majority of the time on my own, away from others, for fear of being attacked or worse, for who I was.

Of course when one spends too much time on ones own, the real battles outside turn to conflicts in the mind. My mental health became fragile, from an early age, but without the help and support people are accorded today, I tried and failed miserably, to overcome some dark and distressing periods. I often felt deeply depressed and alone and more worryingly had suicidal thoughts, that overtook my life. While my friends were growing up 'normally' enjoying all the activities 'normal' kids enjoy, I rapidly became more and more insular, afraid and scared of the future.

At the same time, AIDS impacted all our lives, rather like the pandemic of today and my sexuality became even more of a problem; I cried every night wrestling with fears that were spiralling out of control. I believed being gay would kill me and I wouldn't be able to stop it. I had no one to talk to, since the Government of the time introduced 'Section 28' prohibiting any conversations with professionals, who could have helped and life became even more pained than it was already. By the time I left school in 1987, I was a nervous wreck, with nowhere to turn, turning to alcohol and cigarettes for support.

The early 90s was a time of great liberation; I finally found myself and accept my lot in life. I attended Pride marches, joined the Anti-Nazi League and began fighting for my right to exist as a gay man. There were set backs and phases when I questioned my sexuality, but this was due to other people opinions and their destructive influences. I was attacked several times and on one occasion thrown into the back of a car and beaten for over an hour, finally thrown out in a ditch at the side of the road, where, battered and bruised I made my way home. The constant assaults and barrage of abuse  made me even more determined to carry on being me and I became physically stronger as a result. Despite this my mental health was in tatters and depression and suicide raised their ugly heads again.

When I met my current husband in 1995, I was ready to settle down with someone I truly loved and that is where my biggest struggle began. Darrell was Australian, and we were both embarking on a same-sex relationship during a time when we were not recognised as a couple. In law, we were denied the right to live together and were told to move to Australia or another country that recognised the nature of our relationship; there was literally no precedent in place to allow us to coexist in Britain. You have to remember this was a time when discrimination was rife, commonplace and endemic in British culture, and we had to fight hard to establish our credentials as a partnership.

Initially we moved to Australia and back again, finally ending up back in Perth for a second time, with the intention of living there for the rest of our lives. Circumstances dictated our next move; Labour won the next General Election of 1997, and we made a last ditched attempt to restart our life in the UK, when the New Labour Government changed the law to finally recognise our relationship. The next five years were tough as we fought the system through much hardship in order to remain in the country. The damage to both our careers, health and sense of well-being was beyond measure, but in the early 2000s Darrell was finally granted 'Indefinite Leave to Remain,' and we could finally start living, six years after we got together.

The battles I fought then are carried around with me still, a reminder that together we can overcome anything. When both of us became the victims of bullying, we decided, once again to carry on fighting. This was one of the biggest challenges of our life, and we went through the motions, followed the rules and did what we could to hold our heads high. In the end, we won the battle, but decided to leave the UK altogether and start a new life somewhere else, this time in Spain, away from the memories that had haunted us for so long. From then on, the World was our oyster, or, so we thought, until events once again conspired to change the course of our life.

Since 2016 we have lived apart for most of the year, while Darrell helps his Mother deal with the spectre of Cancer. I have returned to the UK and continue to do what I can to survive during difficult times. Both of us are also dealing with our own health issues, built up over many years of stress and anxiety and do what we can to support one another. Even today, as we both contend with a pandemic that is keeping us apart on opposite sides of the World, we both remain committed and focused on our relationship. The battles we fought at the beginning have really taught us much about staying the course and each of us have an undying sense of purpose as we traverse the later stages of our life together.

Thursday seemed like any other day when I got up, but within a few minutes I was experiencing a severe tight pain across my chest. It was like a band pulling ever tighter and tighter, squeezing and stopping me from breathing. To be honest, initially I thought I had a bout of indigestion and took some ant-acids to no avail. The pain was getting worse and I had no idea what to do.

I returned to bed a few minutes after the pain started, just to see if that alleviated the discomfort, but nothing I did worked and by now the throbbing had moved around my back and down my left arm. I was sure that I was having a heart attack, so reached for my mobile and rang 999. Explaining my situation to the operator, she immediately signalled for help and an ambulance arrived within ten minutes.

Immediately I opened the door they had me wired up and took an ECG of my heart as well as monitoring my blood pressure, which was sky-high. One of the paramedics then sprayed something under my tongue and asked me to chew an Aspirin tablet and the pain began to subside, almost immediately. I was then asked to get ready for hospital as I would need to go in straight away. Feeling OK, I asked if it was entirely necessary, but was told in no uncertain terms it was and not to argue!

I was strapped in a seat in the ambulance and given some Co-codamol and paracetamol, whilst trying to give the paramedic my details. With a pain in my chest, left over from my experience with suspected COVID-19 in April, they were interested in getting as much information as they possibly could.

Within a few minutes we arrived at a very different Accident and Emergency Department at Queen Alexandra Hospital in Cosham, greeted by Doctors wearing full PPE, who directed me away from the COVID Red area and into the 'Green Channel' as he called it. I was then shown to a chair, not a bed, in what looked like a makeshift triage area.

It must have been half an hour when I was taken into a small room, full of boxes and equipment and given a series of blood tests. The room had clearly been adapted and was probably a sluice room previously. Squeezing between boxes of medical supplies I was able to lay on a bed. The nurse, whose Birthday it was, the day after mine was fantastic in every respect and made me feel at ease, after I explained my aversion to blood tests, and she told me not to worry and to try to relax, despite the pain that was starting to return.

Next a chest X-ray and brief chat with a Doctor who asked me a series of standard questions, eventually steering me back to chair 8 in the main concourse. Sitting there I was struck by how empty it was. There were just four of us sat there waiting. Before I was taken in to hospital, I asked one of the Paramedics if it was safe, and they said it was probably safer than it had ever been, commenting on how few admissions there were at the moment, with people unwilling to go to hospital during this crisis. I could finally see that for myself and it was stark, I had never seen QA quite like it and it was certainly a reminder of the unusual times we are living through.

After a couple of hours, I had received my test results back and was taken into a private room to discuss them. The Doctor said that I didn't have any cardiac issues, but I did have a Hiatus Hernia, which had been responsible for the excruciating pain. In his words 'A Hiatus Hernia mimics heart attack pain and is responsible for many admissions of patients thinking they are having one.'

I couldn't quite believe that a hernia had caused such agony, but was thankful it was nothing more serious. I was prescribed omeprazole and given some brief dietary advice and finally congratulated for phoning an ambulance in the first place, rather than taking risks with my life. Every NHS healthcare worker I came into contact with were extremely professional and looked after me perfectly. I can only really echo their advice and encourage you to go to hospital if you really need to, don't take a chance, look after your life first and foremost. We may well be in the middle of a pandemic, but hospitals are still working normally and your health is still their priority.

Today I feel a lot better after taking the prescribed medication and am grateful I was given answers to what transpired last Thursday. If anything I know what a heart attack feels like now and won't hesitate to phone the emergency services if I need to in the future!

Thanks NHS!

I have been a blogger for nearly five years now  and spend a good proportion of my life blogging about pretty mundane stuff really. It is something I enjoy and a passion that was born out of adverse times. In April 2015 I started to document a very difficult period in my life, for no other reason, than to keep my own sanity. There is something very soothing about putting words down on a page and offloading your inner most thoughts. By the end of entry 1, I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders and was looking forward to entry number two.

My own circumstances turned to illness and I spend a year writing about my struggle with depression. It was an important part of the heeling process and the beginning of a vocation that I have always continued, almost on a daily basis.

Of course much has happened in my life since 2015, there have been many ups and downs and I have always found a reason to blog. Not only do I enjoy writing, but I also want to help others. You only have to look at the different categories on the right-hand side of this post, to understand the subject matter I choose to write about. Bullying, homosexuality, Expat life, illness, family and politics, just some topics I cover. The blog has reached many people, who continue to read it when they can. I have had letters, phone calls, emails and messages from hundreds of loyal readers who just need someone to talk to, who understands their plight. The most import aspect of blogging, is the connections I have made over the years.

Coronavirus has changed the focus of my writing greatly. Today I find myself commenting on a subject that has touched all our hearts. This is an important time in history and it is the job of writers, diarists, in fact any one of us, to record events for posterity and our families for generations to come. The dreadful loss of life, brave key workers, nurses, doctors and all those who play a role in keeping us safe at this time, need to be recognised for their efforts in helping to stem the tide of disease.

Of course, I am also in self-isolation, having been told to stay at home because of the symptoms I now have. Being told you likely have the illness is a bombshell, but it is also important, for me to keep writing and carrying on with normal life. Other people may decide not to even speak about their symptoms, but without words, how will others understand the seriousness of this situation. Each one of us is vulnerable, young or old, and we need to follow Government guidelines to the letter!

It is necessary to clarify my aims and objectives as a blogger from time to time and although my focus changes, to suit the times we live in, the reasons for writing are always the same - Making others aware of the circumstances that shape all our lives. I don't hide my emotions, I wear them on Roaming Brit and until I decide otherwise, I will continue doing what I believe is right. Words from the heart are worth more than money itself!