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    Year In Review - Feliz año nuevo!

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    This will be my the final ‘year in review’ blog entry, also looking forward to the new year, as we head into 2018, after another challenging twelve months. I began 2017 in negative mood, focusing on returning to the UK, during a particularly bad winter in Spain. The house I was living in was cold and damp, rain water was slowly seeping through doors and windows, I had a severe chest infection and Jamie had left, returning home to the UK. With Darrell still living in Australia, I felt very much alone in the World, ready to call time on my adventures in Spain. I rarely left the house, staying in bed as often as I could, depressed and without hope. If I thought 2015 was bad, 2016 was even worse, I couldn’t see any light at the end of the tunnel, 2017 was going to just be another year of hardship and difficulties and I wanted out. Of course the reality of my situation was such, that returning to Britain was impossible. I had no money at all, certainly not enough to relocate to another country, twice in a year. Deep down I knew I was backed into a corner, again at the mercy of events and circumstances. The one thing I hate, is not being in charge of my own destiny. In January 2017 my mind was in a dark place; I had been here before, but never 1500 miles from home. I had no back up plan and was very much swimming blindly in a sea of contention.

    Well of course I am still in Spain and despite wanting to return home, I never did. 2017 has had its ups and downs for both Darrell and myself; we do however remain resolute in our belief, that this place offers us the best chance for new opportunities and a future untainted by the past. Spain was never the easy option we had imagined, the opposite is true. We have struggled at times to keep our head above water and have had to negotiate a system that is unforgiving, unrelenting and merciless. You either survive in Spain or you don’t, there is no middle way. We have learnt to keep very much to ourselves and live a very frugal, self serving and private existence, the one aspect of life we never had in the UK. As a blogger and columnist, my life is an open book, but I am able to distinguish between professional and private when referencing mine and Darrell’s relationship here in Spain. I have made a few close friends in Gran Alacant, but have learnt not to live in and out of each others pockets; after previous experience living in the UK and all the hardships that brought. I am comfortable with my lot now, without the stresses of the past, but still not completely comfortable with my new life. I still have tension from time to time, but it is born out of life experience, not what others leave at ones door.

    So 2017 was another roller coaster year, one I have managed to get through relatively unscathed. Darrell and I are both Spanish residents, pay our taxes and have been talking about buying somewhere to live permanently; life is very much rooted in Gran Alacant for now. I hope 2018 will finally be a good year, after all the hard work both of us have put in. like most people I have hopes and dreams and a few options to consider, following very much the same path, I am travelling now. As I become more settled in my new role, I am conscious that I can not take anything for granted. 2015 was littered with mistakes, missed opportunities and dubious characters, never again will I allow a recurrence of the difficulties I endured back then. Today I am very aware of what I have to do, in order to lead a successful life. I judge people everyday; if there is the mere hint of conflict, I will walk away. I have enough baggage, without taking on other peoples. In 2017 I have learned a lot About the character of those around me. I know who to interact with and who to avoid. It may well have taken 46 years, but I am finally able to walk away!

    To end this entry, I want to talk a little about home, Southampton. I need to return for a short visit in 2018. The circumstances behind my leaving were extreme, consequently, I wasn’t able to say goodbye to many of those I still hold dear. As I approach my third year in Spain, I am confident enough, to tie up the loose ends, without the fear of not returning to Spain. I miss Britain everyday, but it really isn’t my home any more. A trip down memory lane, is just what the Doctor ordered, to finally lay the ghosts of Southampton past to rest, a final farewell, before I walk quietly into the sunset!

    A very Happy New Year to all my friends and family, both here in Spain and abroad in the UK. Don’t be strangers, pop on a plane and come for a visit. In 2017 we were lucky enough to have many familiar faces coming through the door, we want this year to be equally rewarding.
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    Blue Is The New Black!

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    Since when has black been blue?  I may well have supported Brexit back in 2016 but I don't need Theresa May and her lame Government telling me falsehoods; 'fake news' if you will. The Government announced a 'return to blue passports,' in 2019, when we leave the European Union. I personally don't care what colour my passport is, now or in the future, but I find the Governments claim that we are returning to a blue passport as laughable. The British passport has never been blue, as my old passport above shows; shockingly it was black. Do politicians think we are that stupid, as to believe everything they tell us. 

    If they can lie about the pigment of a passport, what else are they lying about. Did they really think everyone who used to have a 'Black,' yes black passport, wouldn't remember the colour of the thing. Are people really that gullible, as to believe this nationalistic rubbish, harking back to better times and a dubious shade of blue, that never existed. Instead of tinkering with frippery, deal with the real issues of Brexit and lets get back to some normality!
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    Dealing With The After Effects Of Bullying!

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    I had a message this morning, from the parent of a young lady, now in her twenties, wanting to understand how to help her deal with, the after effects of bullying. A young lady who suffered the trauma of abuse at school, now trying to find her own way in life; all the time conscious of what happened. As a young twenty year old, I tended to deal with my feelings in a negative way. The pain caused by such acts of abuse, especially when you are young and impressionable is profound, intense and often overwhelming. My biggest problem was anxiety; walking into a room full of people, not knowing any of them; having to communicate or interact was often a terrible experience. All the time, in the back of my head, I was recalling my worst fears. The whole room was full of bullies and I was going to become another victim.

    I suppose initially I learnt to deal with each problem as it arose, breathing exercises to get me through a difficult presentation at University, focusing on a single individual when one had to publicly speak, which was easier than encompassing a whole lecture hall of ‘bullies’ waiting to watch me crumble or just staying away from situations I couldn’t handle, not even attempting them in the first place. Leaving school was a big relief for me, but the issues I experienced then were always going to be there, sometimes surfacing at the most inconvenient moments, I just had to learn to deal with them.

    Some victims of bullying will turn to drink and drugs to dull the pain. That may or may not have happened to me, but these are short term ‘helpers,’ designed to get you through the day or the difficulty you are currently confronting. Drinking and taking drugs just increases the feelings of anxiety and stress, adding to the burden you are already carrying around with you. For me cigarettes helped; I know that is a non PC answer, but they did. I started smoking at a very early age and have been smoking for about thirty three years now; one of the only things I stuck at long enough, as someone so kindly reminded me the other day. If I had followed a career in much the same vein, I could be at the top of my tree now. Although I smoke far less than I used to, it still offers me an opportunity to relax in stressful situations. I am certainly not advocating someone take it up though, please don’t misunderstand what I am saying; there are other diversions to relieve stress!

    Bullying is a long term issue; I was bullied at school, but I was also a victim for most of my life, in one form or another; you see once you have been abused, it is easier for others to do the same. A bully or a sociopath, will find a victim easily, there seems to be a mutual attraction; that doesn’t go away. Until recently, I was still suffering; leaving the UK in January 2016 to try and finally start a new life, away from the bullying of the past. The story of what happened to Darrell and me is commonly known, both of us victims of a work place sociopath, which nearly cost me my life. I sometimes think I had victim written all over my face; homosexual, bipolar, overweight and shy; I had no bloody chance in the first place. My boss at the time tried to destroy me because of issues that she felt she had control over.

    The history of what happened is all over this blog, so I will not go into great detail. It was difficult discovering that my boss was probably controlling every aspect of my life and well being, through bullying; not blatant playground attacks, but subtle, at times barely noticeable acts, that were difficult to see and unravel. After a long period of illness and bipolar relapse, I eventually asked for help, through an organisation called ‘Solent Mind,’ a charity who were instrumental in helping me discover the truth of what was going on. The realisation that I had once again become a victim was traumatic, further relapse, post traumatic stress and deep, deep depression followed. On top of this, my partner Darrell was also agonising; employed by the same organisation, he too was a victim, as were a number of other employees. Once again my life was a mess because of torment and intimidation.

    In my case, after a lifetime of abuse, I thought moving away was the answer and to some extent it was. A new start, with a fresh outlook was just what I needed to move on. If I had dealt with my anguish differently in my twenties, I would however not be here today. The best way to deal with bullies, is to move on and not look back. Remove their influence from your life completely, without a second thought. Detaching oneself from those who associated with the abusers was also necessary. In my early twenties, I still believed these dubious characters were my friends, they were nothing but. I was more afraid of being alone than doing the right thing.

    Before I left for Spain, I was on a huge cocktail of medication, in order to help ease the difficulties surrounding bipolar, today I take none, throwing every pill I had in the bin. Medication kept me locked into a bubble of trepidation; it was comfy in there, but it just masked what was truly going on. After a life of apprehension and anxiety, I really had to deal with what happened to me. Finally in Spain, I began to change my way of dealing with the bullies. Today I write about my experiences, which is the biggest therapy of all. I am able to express how I feel, without sugar coating a single aspect of what happened. Like today, the words don’t always make sense; I write them down as they pop into my head, but it is comforting to see sentences on paper, being able to look back at some truly horrendous situations, confronting them in script.

    If you are suffering now or have in the past, you need to find an outlet for your encounters; writing is perfect for me, for others it may be painting, standing on a stage or going for long country walks; the list is endless. Anything that releases positive energy, allowing self expression is a good and valuable tool; necessary In rebuilding lives. I have had much feedback from victims of bullying, asking for help; my words are actually doing something positive. In order to understand what occurred, I had to document details of some deeply disturbing events; this is what I had to do, to move forwards. For others, this may not be the answer, dealing with the after effects of bullying is a deeply personal journey.

    If I had to give one single piece of advice to those who have suffered, I would say this: Take back control of your life. A bullies only advantage over you, is the art of control. You can walk away, you don’t have to retaliate; above all you can live your life well. The control I now have, allows be to express my emotions in the way I want. By leaving the UK, I could finally manage my own destiny; if it fails, so be it, at least I tried. Even before I left Britain, I worked with abused and bullied children as a mentor and advocate; this allowed me to give something back to help kids who need that boost of confidence. Apart from anything else, it also helped me deal with my own issues. Use your experiences to help victims; don’t shut the pain away, allow it to surface, cry, shout and scream; do whatever you have to, to finally come to terms with the past!

    Finally, as parents of children who are victims of abuse, you need to take a supportive role. It goes without saying, that schools rarely deal with bullying in a satisfactory way. Often the anguish comes out later in life, this is where parents need to be there for their child. Encourage them to speak about their ordeal; it really does help to talk. As a victim myself, I will however only communicate when I want to; I never force the issue. Lead a normal family life, offer that security of a loving home and allow your child to grow and evolve in the way they want, not the way you expect; everyone is different.

    There is no easy answer to the after effects of bullying. The only real conclusion I can come to myself, is deal with the consequences as soon as they become apparent. Look for changes in a child at school, be there always, believe what they are telling you and approach the subject with the school as soon as you are aware of it. If the school will not listen or believe you, take your child away from the situation. The solutions remain the same later in life. I tried counselling, medication and revenge; none of these things worked; the only answer is to finally take back what was lost and build a better life!
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    It wouldn't be Christmas without....

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    Wherever you are in the World, Christmas wouldn't be the same with a cold. At the moment in Gran Alacant, I don't know anyone who hasn't had the lurgy. I am at home this evening, just trying to shift this virus, so I can get back to work tomorrow; there is no point passing it on to everyone else.

    Plenty of paracetamol, bottles of water and hot mugs of Bovril have been consumed today and I am at least beginning to feel a little better.

    If you are currently ill, incapacitated, I am sending loads of love for a speedy recovery; if not, keep it that way, you really don't want this cold.

    Stay safe, stay warm!
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    Verruca Does Christmas!

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    Christmas is always a special time, hearing from friends and family you haven't heard from in a while, spending a few days with loved ones and reflecting on the past year. It was 3am this morning when my mobile phone rang; bleary eyed, I picked it up; Verruca Almond was on the end of the line. I knew I shouldn't have put me new phone number on facebook, but it was too late; Verruca had done her homework and tracked me down! For those of you who don't know who Verruca is, she was a carer, who taught me the ways of the World; looking after myself, surviving in the most difficult of circumstances, how to lick knives, without cutting ones tongue, totally deranged, sociopathic and now working for the biggest charity in the land 'OXSCAM,' after infiltrating the HR department at OXSCAM House. She had had her tough times, but was finally on the up, always keeping in touch when she could!

    Verruca has this habit of phoning at the most inopportune moments; ridiculous times in the morning, whilst you were away on holiday or in an important meeting; in fact any when she knew it would annoy you the most. In true form, she was unapologetic and immediately started to squawk loudly, on what I can only describe as an inaudible phone line. Verruca has no family to speak of, so tends to spend Christmas on her own. She has always pretended to be married, buying underwear and  vests, for her imaginary husband, from the very charity shops she is in charge of; however this partnership isn't quite as it seems; Verruca has created a fictional World; something none of us who knew her, ever spoke about, although were fully aware of. She had no husband, no family life and was a spinster living her life in a dream. For her Christmas is the most productive time of the year. She can sit alone in front of a PC, trolling through social networking sites; drunken status updates, compromising photographs and pretend illnesses, on Boxing Day; getting as much information on people, she knows, as she can. Verruca is a game player and spends most of her life, trying to destroy others; it's what she was born to do. She used to say to me, how proud of herself she was; dragged up as a child, fending for herself and now more powerful than others could ever imagine. At the time, I never understood her words, believing she was just deluded and egotistical, today, things are very different; I understand her vision completely! 

    Verruca's charity work is without question, winning awards for misappropriation of funds and redirecting money for good causes towards buying property in the Cayman Islands, year on year. Oh she is good, financially astute and always one step ahead of the accounts department at OXSCAM House. I remember when a rather large amount of money went missing from her department,  she was quick to deny any foul play, as shocked as everyone else about the disappearance. She had left no paper trail in her wake, but planted plenty of evidence and false documents in the drawer of her boss, who she loathed since he fired her many years previously, moving her to another area. She was proud of her accomplishment; not only had she gained thousands of pounds in her back pocket, but she had also framed her superior, killing two birds with one stone. 

    Every Christmas Day Verruca would spent time at the local soup kitchen and shelter, where the homeless were given a Christmas meal. Verruca always said. why should she pay for a Christmas dinner, when she can get a free plate, eating with the most vulnerable in society, helping them towards a better path in life. Verruca went to the shelter every year, a bit like those old women that sit in the back of churches knitting away through every service.  She has no right to be there, but no one says a thing, turning a blind eye. Back in the day, I used to be amazed by Verruca's charitable nature, believing her to be a good Christian fearing woman. In fact today, I know she is nothing but. She may well spend time with those in greatest need, but only because she can manipulate them more than most; they were ideal fodder; they fed her most basic needs and desires.

    The phone line was crackling; I could hear a whirling sound and the rush of water in the background...
    'Are you alright Verruca? you sound like your in a washing machine!' I enquired.
    'I'm great, feeling energised, full of beans, having a wonderful time!' she screamed!
    '...but where are you? It's three O'Clock in the morning! Are you sure you are OK?' I asked again, shouting louder over the increasing noise at the other end of the phone.
    'I'm in the forest, kayacking lovey!' she explained, barely audible under, what sounded like a waterfall!

    Verruca had told me once before that she used to kayak, whenever she could. To be honest at the time, I just assumed it was another made up part of her life, how wrong was I. Actually this was one aspect of her, that I soon realised was true. I have to admit, when I was ill at work, she gave me her home address details, in order for me to send my 'sick notes' to. I took a sneaky peak at her house on 'google maps,' and bugger me backwards, there was a bloody Kayak parked outside. 

    'It's 3am Verruca; you are in a kayak in the middle of the New Forest, on a phone. What the hell for?' I shouted at the top of my voice.
    'There's no time to explain that, I needed to ask you a question!'
    'A question, NOW, about what?' I cried exasperated down the phone!

    I thought she had phoned to tell me about her Christmas and ask me about mine. It may well be the early hours of the morning, but I assumed she had been drinking, as she often did. I would frequently find empty bottles of gin, all over her company car, when she used to give me a lift to meetings or during those long chats in private, that she said were for my own good. I never spoke about the bottles, preferring to concentrate on getting out of the car as quickly as possible. Questioning her, would have only made her angry and prolonged the experience of being trapped in her Ford Focus, that stunk of cigarettes, lighter fluid and cheese and onion crisps; it was unthinkable. Luckily I always had an exit strategy. planned down to the last second, before I closed the passenger door. If things got heavy, I could faint at the drop of a hat, even in a vehicle. Not only that, I always carried pepper spray and  had a 'safe' friend phone me after an hour in her company, with a made up emergency; bad situation avoided!

    'Have you finished, the end of month paperwork yet, I have to get it to head office ASAP?' she yelled, her voice cracking, followed by an ear-splitting shrill of excitement; she must have gone around the bend, in mind and  on the bloody river, a bit fast. She loved her action and adventure, did  Verruca, but this was insane!
    'Verruca, you really have been drinking; I haven't worked for you in over two years.' I replied, barely discernible under the commotion on the other end of the phone. There was silence, seconds later, a rather pained shriek and finally silence again.
    ​'Verruca, are you alright? I have no idea what you are talking about! Verruca? Verruca?' I bellowed....!

    That was the last I heard from her this morning. I have no idea why she phoned or what she was saying. I can only assume she has lost the plot, thinking I am still working at OXSCAM, living in the UK. It looks like I'm going to be spending the rest of the day, trying to get to the bottom of this mystery. Phones have a habit of going dead on her and judging by previous experience, I am highly unlikely to hear from her for a few months. She will of course deny the phone call ever happened and tell me I am going mad, when the opposite is true. Still it's good to know she is still alive, despite rafting down a river at stupid O'Clock in the morning, the day after Christmas. I'll keep you updated!
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  • Published on

    Verruca Does Christmas!

    OXSCAM Verruca's World verruca-almond
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    Christmas is always a special time, hearing from friends and family you haven't heard from in a while, spending a few days with loved ones and reflecting on the past year. It was 3am this morning when my mobile phone rang; bleary eyed, I picked it up; Verruca Almond was on the end of the line. I knew I shouldn't have put me new phone number on facebook, but it was too late; Verruca had done her homework and tracked me down! For those of you who don't know who Verruca is, she was a carer, who taught me the ways of the World; looking after myself, surviving in the most difficult of circumstances, how to lick knives, without cutting ones tongue, totally deranged, sociopathic and now working for the biggest charity in the land 'OXSCAM,' after infiltrating the HR department at OXSCAM House. She has had her tough times, but was finally on the up, always keeping in touch when she could!

    Verruca has this habit of phoning at the most inopportune moments; ridiculous times in the morning, whilst you were away on holiday or in an important meeting; in fact anytime she knew it would annoy you the most. In true form, she was unapologetic and immediately started to squawk loudly, on what I can only describe as an inaudible phone line. Verruca has no family to speak of, so tends to spend Christmas on her own. She has always pretended to be married, buying underwear and  vests, for her imaginary husband, from the very charity shops she manages, however this partnership isn't quite as it seems. Verruca has created a fictional World, something none of us who knew her, ever spoke about, although were fully aware of. She had no husband, no family life and was a spinster living her life in a dream. For her, Christmas is the most productive time of the year. She can sit alone in front of a PC, trolling through social networking sites; drunken status updates, compromising photographs and pretend illnesses, on Boxing Day; getting as much information on people she knows, as she can. Verruca is a game player and spends most of her life, trying to destroy others; it's what she was born to do. She used to say to me, how proud of herself she was; dragged up as a child, fending for herself and now more powerful than others could ever imagine. At the time, I never understood her words, believing she was just deluded and egotistical, today, things are very different; I understand her vision completely! 

    Verruca's charity work is without question, winning awards for misappropriation of funds and redirecting money for good causes towards buying property in the Cayman Islands, year on year. Oh she is good, financially astute and always one step ahead of the accounts department at OXSCAM House. I remember when a rather large amount of money went missing from her department,  she was quick to deny any foul play, as shocked as everyone else about the disappearance. She had left no paper trail in her wake, but planted plenty of evidence and false documents in the drawer of her boss, who she loathed since he fired her many years previously, moving her to another area. She was proud of her accomplishment; not only had she gained thousands of pounds in her back pocket, but she had also framed her superior, killing two birds with one stone. 

    Every Christmas Day Verruca would spent time at the local soup kitchen and shelter, where the homeless were given a Christmas meal. Verruca always said. why should she pay for a Christmas dinner, when she can get a free plate, eating with the most vulnerable in society, helping them towards a better path in life. Verruca went to the shelter every year, a bit like those old women that sit in the back of churches knitting away through every service.  She has no right to be there, but no one says a thing, turning a blind eye. Back in the day, I used to be amazed by Verruca's charitable nature, believing her to be a good Christian fearing woman. In fact today, I know she is nothing but. She may well spend time with those in greatest need, but only because she can manipulate them more than most; they were ideal fodder; they fed her most basic needs and desires.

    The phone line was crackling; I could hear a whirling sound and the rush of water in the background...
    'Are you alright Verruca? you sound like your in a washing machine!' I enquired.
    'I'm great, feeling energised, full of beans, having a wonderful time!' she screamed!
    '...but where are you? It's three O'Clock in the morning! Are you sure you are OK?' I asked again, shouting louder over the increasing noise at the other end of the phone.
    'I'm in the forest, kayacking lovey!' she explained, barely audible under, what sounded like a waterfall!

    Verruca had told me once before that she used to kayak, whenever she could. To be honest at the time, I just assumed it was another made up part of her life, how wrong was I. Actually this was one aspect of her, that I soon realised was true. I have to admit, when I was ill at work, she gave me her home address details, in order for me to send my 'sick notes' to. I took a sneaky peak at her house on 'google maps,' and bugger me backwards, there was a bloody Kayak parked outside. 

    'It's 3am Verruca; you are in a kayak in the middle of the New Forest, on a phone. What the hell for?' I shouted at the top of my voice.
    'There's no time to explain that, I needed to ask you a question!'
    'A question, NOW, about what?' I cried exasperated down the phone!

    I thought she had phoned to tell me about her Christmas and ask me about mine. It may well be the early hours of the morning, but I assumed she had been drinking, as she often did. I would frequently find empty bottles of gin, all over her company car, when she used to give me a lift to meetings or during those long chats in private, that she said were for my own good. I never spoke about the bottles, preferring to concentrate on getting out of the car as quickly as possible. Questioning her, would have only made her angry and prolonged the experience of being trapped in her Ford Focus, that stunk of cigarettes, lighter fluid and cheese and onion crisps; it was unthinkable. Luckily I always had an exit strategy. planned down to the last second, before I closed the passenger door. If things got heavy, I could faint at the drop of a hat, even in a vehicle. Not only that, I always carried pepper spray and  had a 'safe' friend phone me after an hour in her company, with a made up emergency; bad situation avoided!

    'Have you finished, the end of month paperwork yet, I have to get it to head office ASAP?' she yelled, her voice cracking, followed by an ear-splitting shrill of excitement; she must have gone around the bend, in mind and  on the bloody river, a bit fast. She loved her action and adventure, did  Verruca, but this was insane!
    'Verruca, you really have been drinking; I haven't worked for you in over two years.' I replied, barely discernible under the commotion on the other end of the phone. There was silence, seconds later, a rather pained shriek and finally silence again.
    ​'Verruca, are you alright? I have no idea what you are talking about! Verruca? Verruca?' I bellowed....!

    That was the last I heard from her this morning. I have no idea why she phoned or what she was saying. I can only assume she has lost the plot, thinking I am still working at OXSCAM, living in the UK. It looks like I'm going to be spending the rest of the day, trying to get to the bottom of this mystery. Phones have a habit of going dead on her and judging by previous experience, I am highly unlikely to hear from her for a few months. She will of course deny the phone call ever happened and tell me I am going mad, when the opposite is true. Still it's good to know she is still alive, despite rafting down a river at stupid O'Clock in the morning, the day after Christmas. I'll keep you updated!
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