We all have those times when we are feeling low and just don't want to communicate with the World. These are the difficult periods that we would rather forget, the days we lock ourselves away from everyone and the times we can't cope any more. I am a strong advocate of solitude and spending time on my own. For me, it is a great healer and allows me a valuable breathing space. Able to finally relax, I can ponder issues and problems I have been wrestling with for some time.

As a child, I spent more time on my own than not; the truth is, I preferred my own company and my overactive imagination, that ran riot in the privacy of my own room. One has to remember, I have always written, since I was a young boy, so sitting quietly on one's own was part of the course. Whether keeping a journal or composing a short story, I was happy to remain cut off, aloof from everyone, writing my thoughts down on paper. I suppose I was one of the lucky ones, who enjoyed my own company, never getting bored and always actively writing or productively procrastinating in some form.

For a long time, I forgot how to express myself through words; after University, I became absorbed in the local gay scene and lived life to the full. I partied every night, was always out and about, visiting this person or that, and never had the time to articulate my feelings as I would have liked. There was a huge period, where I didn't document my life, as I do now, and that angers me. At a time when I should have expressed how I felt, whilst growing up gay, I was too busy getting drunk and hiding who I really was.

Coming out of one's shell and becoming the person I was meant to be, isn't necessarily a bad thing. Surrounded by like-minded individuals, who had the same outlook on life, facing the same challenges and problems, was a liberating experience. It felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders and the new me was out and proud for all the World to see. However, it wasn't quite that simple. I turned into a person I didn't really recognise; the quiet, studious, methodical and yes at times melancholy teenager had turned into a full on, in your face, camp, bitchy, sarcastic 'Queen,' who only cared about himself. If I look back to my life nearly thirty years ago, this is a period of great regret; I lost touch with the person I was and the dreams and aspirations I had!

Despite the hedonistic life I was leading, I did find some time to lock myself away and reflect on the 'madness.' My concentration span was practically non-existent back then, so I couldn't have written an extensive blog of my life, like today, I just didn't have it in me. I would often write poetry, expressing how I felt. The words were often difficult to decipher, incoherent and rambling; it was clear I was suffering from depression and anxiety, despite my new-found freedoms. As I became engrossed in the scene, I became more uptight and embittered  and the frustration I felt surfaced at the most inopportune moments. Arguing more, I pushed others away, and fell out with people almost on a daily basis. I had become a nasty individual, selfish, bombastic and unrecognisable. I needed time to myself more than ever, yet never seemed to get it. Able to look back subjectively today, I am able to see just what went wrong and more importantly why.

Without those reflective periods of solitude, I changed dramatically as a person. I, no longer, had space; there was so much inner conflict between the real me and the fake, false caricature I often portrayed, that my mental health was suffering as a result. If I had taken even a brief moment to step away, I could have seen just what was going wrong, but I barely had time to think, let alone concentrate on the bigger picture. The seclusion I craved then, is no different to the 'me time' I demand now; in contrast, I have it in spades today, as much as I want. I've learnt lessons and changed as a result; I no longer ignore what my head is telling me. Blogging has allowed me to pick up where I left off and once again do what I love most.

In 2021, I spend most of my days off on my own, writing, recording and  reflecting on each week, discussing events and circumstances that have played a role over the last seven days. After surviving difficult times in my life and realising just how much time I need for myself, I have been able to work alongside my commitments and produce writing I am proud of. Presently, I write at any given opportunity, it gives me the focus I need to get through each day and reminds me to recall events that resonate with my sense of well-being. Finding an equilibrium between writing and working has been important in my quest for balance, and I like to think I have finally achieved it. Only time will tell whether it works long term, or once again I will have to rethink the direction I am travelling in, in order to navigate this crazy word successfully. Cautious optimism, a return to solitude when necessary, and the ability to say 'NO' is my key to success in an unforgiving World.

I have always encouraged myself to tell the truth, even in the  most difficult of circumstances, it's the reason I decided to call myself 'The Real Truth Blogger.' Writing about my experiences in life, in the most sincere way possible, has always been my mantra. I have never looked at life through rose-tinted glasses or been under any illusions about the mistakes I have made and the challenges that have brought me to where I am today. My life is hard; the lifestyle choices I made many years ago have come back to haunt me, and I am fully aware of the difficult road ahead, because I have been here before. The stories I write, blogs I compose and memories I reflect upon, are as honest as I believe they should be. Nevertheless, all of us, even me, try to remember the best of times, often leaving traumatic accounts locked away, rarely seeing the light of day.

I have had an amazing life and been to places, that others could only dream of. I have partied, sometimes for days on end, and lived abroad, meeting some wonderful people. Never staying in one place too long, I have rarely settled for any length of time; despite this, I have a loving husband, who I adore more now, than ever. Living an alternative life, full of spontaneous adventure, excitement and amazing experiences has been truly fantastic, but it really is only half the story. Isn't it true, that we only want to remember those productive and uplifting moments, papering over the cracks and larger gaping wounds, that only show people what we want them to see?

We live in such an image conscious World, that being truthful has become a dying art. Airbrushing photos, applying a filter to our face and deleting bad pictures and memories have become commonplace. You could be forgiven for believing all our lives are a scene from the 'Truman Show,' perfect in every respect, faultless and without complication and hardship. Of course, nothing could be further from the truth; I am as guilty as anyone for concentrating my endeavours on happy events and milestones and ignoring the more controversial occurrences that define us as individuals.

I write about my childhood often, a time I find difficult to comprehend, even now after thirty-five, forty years. The narrative, is often reflective of favourable situations and occasions and tends to skip over the role negativity played. For the most part, I had a particularly unhappy childhood, but that isn't always echoed in the words I write. Apart from the odd one of two traumatic scenarios, it feels as if I have forgotten the damn right destructive days, that far outweigh the creativity I like to express.

Childhood trauma can be hard to remember; I have tried to forget most of the bad days, many too painful to recall. When it comes to writing about the most distressing periods I have lived through, I have unconsciously forgotten the worst details, often afraid to dig deep enough. Even now, as I compose this entry, I understand just how harrowing my life was at times, but I don't remember the details well enough to include them in this blog.

Just because my life is relatively fortuitous today, it doesn't mean it always was. Growing up gay in the 1970s/80s, alone, with very few friends, has had a very damaging effect on my wellbeing. The depression and anxiety I suffer with, today, is a direct response to the circumstances that surrounded my youth. Sitting down quietly, remembering with fondness a time I hated with a passion, is an escape from reality, that allows me to concentrate on the heart-warming anecdotes. These tend to remain at the forefront of my mind, overriding all the heartache and anguish that really should be addressed.

Of course confronting one's demons isn't an easy task, and I have at least started to analyse a past that was littered with self loathing, insecurity and fear. This blog is primarily about documenting events and expressing myself, as I struggle through life's ups and downs. It is also about remembering a past that wasn't always prosperous or constructive, and recalling a journey that hasn't been easy. As I have become more self-aware, I have also become uncompromising in my search for the truth, about who I am and what has made me the walking catastrophe I was born to be.

It is hard coming to terms with one's failings in life, but it is harder ignoring the significance they play in one's future direction. In order to move on, move forward, without the constraints of the past, I do have to learn from the mistakes I made. Accepting the consequences of my actions and never repeating them again, creates a chance for  a new beginning and a catalyst for change, even at fifty years of age!

In 1999, I was asked to write an article for my local newspaper, the Southern Daily Echo, in reply to an unprovoked, scathing attack on the gay community, by a local Member of Parliament. I had initially written a letter to the editor in response to an article, composed by Sir Desmond Swayne MP, detailing his objections to the lowering of the age of consent for gay men, to equal that of our heterosexual counterparts. The article he wrote was a shuddering diatribe about homosexual men and the lifestyles we were accused of leading. His comments were hurtful, degrading and utterly appalling. After reading his piece, I had to put pen to paper and make my voice heard.

Immediately I contacted the Editor, utterly horrified that this article was allowed to be printed in the first place. The words Sir Desmond wrote were extremely disturbing and at times defamatory in nature. I didn't recognise the wayward description of my homosexual brethren and I didn't understand why someone could be so misguided in their views.

The editor explained his stance on the matter and asked if I would like to write a column the following week, in reply to Sir Desmond. Still incensed about the 'out of touch' MP, I sat down to write what I considered to be a measured and fair reply. The reality is, I just wanted to knock the guy out, but that would have just reinforced his bigoted views, making me the degenerate he referred to, all to frequently in his composition.

Every time I have seen this man, still Member of Parliament for the New Forest, on television, I have literally switched over, or growled vocally at the screen. I have had no time for him ever since and just cringed at his lack of knowledge on a subject, he really should have researched before launching into a public attack.

Imagine my surprise today, while browsing through the newspaper headlines on the internet, as I do every morning, when I came across this article from Sir Desmond Swayne. I thought to myself, 'oh God here we go again, the old bugger is off on his usual rant, about the evils of homosexuality!' However, NO, No, this was a discourse about change and how Sir Desmond had seen the light and admitted how wrong he was..... I don't mind telling you, I was gobsmacked; this was a man holding his hands up and saying he was mistaken and inaccurate in his assessment of gay men and incorrect for saying the things he did, and I couldn't quite believe it!

Personally I am not sure such a man can change so much. Don't get me wrong if he has really seen the light, then I embrace him with open arms. But hugging Sir Desmond is probably not going to happen anytime soon. This person had such anti-gay views, that I just can't see how they have transposed out of all recognition. Homophobia is a particularly entrenched attitude, one that usually takes generations to change. One man miraculously reforming overnight is a little hard to believe, though it has to be said, not impossible.

Rest assured, I will be writing to Sir Desmond Swayne, after I finish this article to discover just what has happened. It would be great to stand up and admit I was wrong for thinking a leopard never changes its spots, but is he really a rehabilitated character?.... Whatever happens, I must go and have a lie down; once again, the World is a little stranger, my head a little foggier and in retrospect that column I wrote in 1999 may never have happened at all!

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!

It has been four years since I started blogging in 2015 and I am delighted to say I am enjoying it more today than I ever have. Blogging has become an important part of my life, it is the first thing I do when I wake up and the last activity I undertake before bed. Writing is a passion that will never be broken; I look forward to the next four years.

I have learned a lot since I started my first blog 'Bipolarcoaster' in April 2015. 'Bipolarcoaster' was a first tentative step into the unknown. I made many mistakes but always maintained the same desire to record and document my thoughts, feelings and events, which true to form, still remains today.

Thousands of people click on 'Roaming Brit' daily, all wanting to read about my latest endeavours. My life isn't particularly exciting, but the difficulties I have experienced and continue to experience have resonated with those who take an interest in the stories I tell. To all of you who continue to read my entries, I would like to thank you for your commitment and for highlighting the subjects I write about - mental illness, homosexuality, bullying, travelling and life living in Spain. Your loyalty is humbling and you are all responsible for the success of 'Bipolarcoaster,' 'Forever Enduring Cycles' and of course my latest blog 'Roaming Brit!'

As I enter my fifth year blogging I hope to keep your interest alive and tackle many more difficult subjects, close to my heart. As ever your participation is crucial and I look forward to hearing from you, as I do in your messages, texts and emails everyday...You are all 'Roaming Brits!'

I was lucky enough be able to express my view, on the contemporaneous 'Brexit shambles,' in the Portsmouth News this Saturday. A colleague who writes for this popular Newspaper contacted me and asked if I would say a few words about the current situation and I was of course delighted to do so. As most of my readers are aware, I am extremely opinionated, especially on political matters, so It will come as no surprise as to my thoughts.

'It is important that the Government implement the wishes of the general public, which thus far they haven't. We should have left today no matter what these over paid MP's think. Parliament has set a dangerous precedent. People will only take so much! The whole process has been a shambles from beginning to end... LEAVE MEANS LEAVE!'

It does seem from the above article, that I am not the only one who thinks the way I do. Brexit is the talk of this great maritime city, as it is in every other corner of Britain and the majority of the general public think the same -  Brexit is a bloody shambles and the problems that surround our departure are getting worse. The reality is, there seems no end in site to this Parliamentary impasse and Britain appears stuck in a vicious cycle of blame and shame.

Today I don't want to go into the details of Brexit, because I have done so many times before, but I do want to talk about ordinary people, not the useless politicians, the Prime Minister or the EU, just people like you and I, after all we are the ones that will be dealing with the aftermath of our exit, long after Theresa May and her cabinet have gone.

People are incredibly angry that Brexit has been delayed. As a country we voted to leave the EU three years ago and we are still very much a part of this union. Our wishes have been ignored and the selfish rhetoric of MP's in the House of Commons has taken priority. It does feel that everyone of them has their own damn agenda and they couldn't care less about the electorate they serve. As a disgruntled voter, who is disgusted with all those who represent me, I want the whole lot of them to go. Their self serving egotism is a stumbling block to our eventual freedom and I am appalled by
their continual uncompromising, stubborn and tenacious behaviour.

The Great British public are fed up with MP's squabbling and for the good of this country they need to pull together and do what is right for us, the people. That means politicians compromising, putting their own pride to one side and finally working as a team for the good of the UK. People demand a resolution to this ridiculous charade; all of us want to lay this chapter to bed; I urge and encourage all those engaged in petty party politics to start talking about the issues that are important to us - housing, education, the NHS and the cost of living, just a few of the concerns that have been forgotten over the last three years.

None of us know where we are heading, what the future holds and just how we are going to get out of this mess. If Theresa May can't command the confidence of Parliament any longer, than it's time she left and allowed someone else the chance to solve this crisis. Until then expect more of the same, more inaction, more fighting and more inertia until the day finally comes, that we can celebrate our independence once more!

Blogging has been a powerful tool, helping me through some terribly dark days. My mood is always reflected in the words I write. Sometimes deep and dark, more often positive and looking forward, to a new and exciting chapter; cautiously making my way along this rocky road, I do what I can to make sense of my life. The biggest gift a blogger can receive is from their followers; commenting, commending, commiserating and in a few cases criticising, sparking debate. This week I heard from a reader, whose story struck a chord, taking me back to a time I thought had passed, but poignancy has dictated an old path to cross...Somethings just can't be forgotten!