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    Feeling Invisible as a gay man!

    Australia Friends Colleagues My Life Weight Loss Health blog
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    It's been a bit of a strange week for me, as I come to terms with that possible Glaucoma diagnosis. As you would expect, I have done a lot of research into the subject, and rather than make me feel more anxious, I am actually feeling rather philosophical about the whole thing. This isn't a condition I can change, so I just have to live with what may happen in the future. There is a lot they can do for me, should they need to, and I am as confident as I can be for the future.
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    On Monday, I burnt my hand, while making dinner. After cooking Carrot and Thyme soup on the stove, I began to ladle it into the blender. After blending up the ingredients, I noticed it was leaking from the bottom. Lifting the jug up from the unit, hot, molten carrot soup, poured over my hand and down my leg. Bloody hell, did I scream!

    I ran into the shower, jumped in and stood there naked, keeping my hand under a cold shower, for what seemed like hours. Meanwhile, poor Darrell, cleaned up the mess and ran out to get some ice, telling me to put my hand into ice-cold water on his return. As I know now, that was a mistake and undoubtably caused more damage to my skin.

    In the end, the pain was so bad, I went to urgent care here in Midland, where my wounds were dressed by a nurse. She explained that the ice would have caused more damage to already damaged skin, and not to do it in future — that's highly unlikely, since I will never be making soup again! It seems that by running from the kitchen to the shower, I left the hot liquid on my skin for far too long, once again causing more damage. On top of this, I have lost the feeling in my thumb, as a result of nerve damage. This may or may not come back, all dependent on how deep the burn was.

    Nevertheless, it seems to be healing neatly and thankfully looks a hundred times better than it did. I am hoping it will be more or less healed in another few days — fingers crossed.

    ​In my vlog today, I am discussing my feelings of loneliness and the difficulties I am experiencing as a gay man of a certain age. I am no longer the youngster I once was, and moving all over the World since my mid-forties has caused me to feel more and more invisible. Today in Australia, I have very few friends that I can talk to and confide in, relying heavily on friends back home in the UK.

    Western Australia is a beautiful place, but the people tend to be rather insular and making a meaningful connection with anyone is hard. Currently, Darrell and I are on our own and have to rely on each other. When you receive difficult news from the Doctor, need a chat about issues you are experiencing on a daily basis, or just need a friend to have a drink with, you find yourself looking for the impossible; they just don't exist.

    ​I have spoken to many people here about how I feel, and with such a high immigrant population in the west , the majority of them agreed — Australia is a really hard place to integrate.

    Despite this fact, neither Darrell nor I will be returning to the UK anytime soon. We have built a good life here, have a beautiful home and are getting ahead in a way we could have only dreamed of in Britain. Feeling invisible does have its advantages too. You can live your life as you think fit, and you don't have to make time for anyone else. I know that may sound sad, but this is the first time we have been in charge of our own destiny. We are doing exactly what we want, travelling to amazing places, and want for nothing. There is of course the nagging feeling of loneliness, but it is a sacrifice we are willing to make to get ahead.

    ​Nothing lasts forever, and I am sure our outlook may change in the future. For now, we are just happy to be in a good place and not at the mercy of a system that seeks to thwart your every endeavour. Yes, we do feel alone in this vast country at the edge of the World, but that's a cross we will have to bear and a sadness we will have to endure!
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    Glaucoma?

    Australia Weight Loss Health blog
    I've been avoiding writing this blog today if I am honest — as someone with health anxiety, writing about a serious issue, that has now become an important part of my future, isn't something I want to be constantly reminded of. However, blogging is integral to my life, and it is necessary to document every aspect of it — good and bad.

    Last Monday, I went for my biennial eye test; I could tell there had been changes in my sight and wanted to have them evaluated. I assumed I would just need an increased prescription and that would be that. Well, I was partly right! Yes, my eyes have changed, as one would expect after two years, but that wasn't the end of the story — something else was going on, something I had never heard of before.

    Initially, the test progressed in the same way every other one had, and there were no real concerns. However, when my eye pressure (IOP) was taken, things took a rather worrisome turn. I had never really understood why air is blown onto the surface of the eye during the test, but my optician explained, it was to measure my eye pressure, in the same way blood pressure is taken on the arm.

    I could tell something wasn't quite right because of her reaction; next she looked into my eye, to view my optic nerve. Once she pulled the apparatus away, she explained that there was a problem. IOP should be between 10 and 21 and mine was 23. This doesn't seem like a huge difference on the scale of things, but she emphasised it was significant, and I would have to undergo a 'field of vision test!'

    Sat in a chair in a darkened room, I was told to focus on a yellow light. A series of green lights would flash, some more intense than others, and I would need to press a button to tell the operator when I saw the lights blinking, all the time focussing on the yellow light. This test was particularly taxing, and I was left rather tired by the end of it. I had to retake the test on my right eye twice, so they had a clear picture of what was going on with my peripheral vision.

    Once the test was complete, I was taken to a room and told that I had high intraocular pressure. The optician said she couldn't see any damage to the Optic nerve currently, although there were abnormalities in my field of vision test. She explained I would have to be closely monitored, and if my pressures continued to rise, I would be referred to a specialist for treatment.

    Understandably, I was shocked. This isn't something I can feel, so what exactly is high IOP. Well, it is a build up of fluid behind the eye, which presses on the optical nerve. The higher the pressure, the more damage potential there is. The optical nerve connects the eye to the brain, and any impairment will cause subsequent loss of sight. This isn't something that happens immediately, but over the course of years; left untreated, I will eventually go blind.

    My optician asked me if any member of my immediate family had Glaucoma, and after a phone call with my Father that evening, it appears Mum did. This apparently increases my chance of getting Glaucoma tenfold, and could be the reason I am where I am today.

    Understandably, I have been particularly depressed. My Optician has stressed, that if confirmed, I will not necessarily go blind. There are many treatments available — laser, eye drops and surgery, all employed to slow down and hopefully prevent blindness. Nevertheless, she didn't downplay what was happening, and said this condition is chronic, and I would have to undergo treatment for the rest of my life.

    This is certainly a week I would rather forget and has left me feeling particularly down in the dumps; I never dreamt in a million years this would happen to me. At least they have discovered it now, hopefully early enough, to treat the symptoms of this debilitating condition, but that doesn't mitigate how serious this disease is. I am still debating whether to get a second opinion, but for now, I have been told I will be retested in six months, to check my pressures haven't risen further. This is not going to be the easiest six months of my life, but one I am just going to have to deal with, like everything else thrown my way! 
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    Marmite From Home - The perfect gift!

    Australia Friends Colleagues Marmite Watch Memories Of Portsmouth blog
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    This week I received a package from home. A friend I have known, since I worked at The Newcome Arms in Portsmouth, was chatting with me shortly after Christmas, about my new life in Australia. Gez was always a ray of sunshine — as I worked behind the bar, he often made me laugh and always made me feel welcome, included and appreciated, despite my rather dubious Bartender skills. He was, and undoubtedly still is, full of life, happy, and an absolute joy to be around. It's people like Gez I miss every day living in Perth, and one of the many reasons I still have a deep fondness for the country of my birth.

    Gez was chatting about Christmas, and all the food he had to throw out, listing delicacies you can only find in Britain. Top of his list was good old 'Twiglets,' a savoury snack I have loved since I was a wee child. Apparently, according to my late Mother, 'Twiglets' are healthier than other similar treats, and I was actively encouraged to enjoy this acquired taste, in moderation of course.

    Now, I have no idea if these are healthier than any other crisp, but they sure are tastier. Back in the day when I was young, these twig shaped Marmite sticks, were bigger than they are now. Apparently, health and safety deemed them a choking hazard; these twigs would often get stuck in my throat, so god knows what happened to other potential victims. However, I am digressing — Gez was explaining how much he disliked them, and just how many tubs he had thrown out, to my absolute horror.

    ​'Gez mate, No, don't do that, I love them. Rather than throw them out, send them my way!' Even though I can get Twiglets here in Australia, the packets are small, and they cost nearly $4.00 a time, and a tub of them is impossible to get. Consequently, I'd be more than happy to take them off Gezs' hands, despite being thousands of miles away.

    To be honest, I didn't think anymore about our conversation, after my off the cuff comments, until Gez asked if he could have my address; he had something he wanted to send to me. Six weeks later, I received a rather large parcel at my parcel collect address here in Perth. For those of you who don't know what Parcel Collect is, let me enlighten you:

    The postal service in Australia is particularly insecure, rather like it is in Spain. Having lived in both countries, I can't tell you how many times I have lost parcels in their respective postal systems, so having a secure address for deliveries is essential. Mail is normally delivered to post boxes at the end of drives, and these poorly maintained boxes are often broken into and items stolen.

    The post office in Midland contacts me when mail arrives, and I collect it, mostly without a hitch. It had been six weeks since Gez sent his parcel, and I believed it had gone missing, as so many others do here. What with the floods over east, and the lack of tracking, there is any number of reasons why, but, when I picked it up, I could immediately see it was from Portsmouth, and I realised it was from Gez.

    ​Inside the box were four large tubs of 'Twiglets' and two jumbo jars of Marmite. Gez had remembered our conversation, and decided he would send me some provisions. He really does have a heart of gold and made my day. I haven't had British Marmite for years now, and although we do get 'Our mate,' which is the Aussie equivalent, it still doesn't taste quite the same; I was delighted to have some proper stuff from back home, and the taste is, well, glorious — if that's your kind of thing.

    Living so far from home, you do begin to realise who your friends are. I was introduced to many new friends and colleagues while living in Portsmouth, and they are some of the best people I have ever met. Gez is an example of someone, who has quite simply left an indelible mark on my heart. When you meet the good ones in life, grab hold of them, keep them close and never let go — these are the friends who keep the memories alive, wherever I am in the World!
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    Catching Up - Keeping our network alive!

    Australia Friends Colleagues blog
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    It was great to catch up with our old friend Elaine this week. Elaine has been a close friend for twenty years now, and she is one of the people we miss most. Thankfully, with FaceTime and other forms of social media, we are still able to stay close.

    Living on the other side of the World, can feel particularly isolating at times, especially when we have spent most of our life together, living in the UK, so any link to old friendships is welcome. 

    Of course, as individuals, all our lives move on, but because the majority of our friends are in the UK, it makes it very difficult to move forward, in life, without them. This isn't me feeling sorry for myself, or regretting moving to Australia, this is about adapting, to accommodate our changing circumstances.

    Making new friends, has been the biggest hurdle for us to overcome. We are not young anymore; people of our age normally have established friendships and a reliable network around them — we just don't, and that is making our life a lot harder than it should be. One has to remember, very few couples our age move from the UK to Australia, so the difficulties we experience are going to be markedly different to those of a younger age!

    Both Darrell and I have always found British people easier to get along with, and more welcoming in nature. That isn't a swipe at Australians, but rather an admission that our roots lie firmly in the UK. If I am honest, I'm not sure if we will ever fully integrate into Australian life, especially with our circle of friends being so small. That does leave me with a huge sense of sadness, but it is also me coming to terms with the limitations of my new life in Perth. It is clear things will not be like they used to; we will never have the huge circle of people around us, we had in the past, but we should both do more to invite people into our life.

    ​After suffering at the hands of some truly dubious people over the last ten years, we do both find it hard to accept that other individuals are genuine and honest. Having said that, we have learnt many lessons in life, and I would consider myself a wonderful judge of character these days. However, I have to admit that I just do not have the time, will power or motivation to put in enough of an effort at the moment. The reality is, both Darrell and I are probably the reason, we live our life without significant friendships. It is our choice right now, and something we will hopefully change in the future. 

    Our priority is our future, and that has to take priority. Paying the mortgage and bills will always be top of our list. When we finally do invite others into our life, it will be when we think it will be beneficial, and work for us as a couple. Until then, we still have our very strong network of mates in the UK, and that's all we appear to need at the moment.

    Everything I have said doesn't detract from those I have personally met in Perth; Darrell has some truly wonder friends, from way back when, who I feel extremely comfortable with. They do of course have their own lives to lead, so catching up can be tough at times. Both of us need to learn to relax more, enjoy the life we have built, and gradually become the people we used to be — Easier said than done I know, but not insurmountable!
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    Reflections of a 90s Club Kid!

    Australia Memories Of Southampton Milestones blog
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    This week, I managed to talk to my old friend, Dom, back in The United Kingdom. Sadly, these days, we don't talk as often as we should, but it does make it all the more special when we do.

    It's fantastic to see that some people just don't change, and Dommy is just the same as I've always known him. When you live so far away from friends, you do tend to value the times you catch up more and more. The fact is, I've become rather sentimental in my old age, and as today's video shows, I am reflecting on the past more and more; that is definitely a sign of aging, and appreciating the memories I made, getting to where I am today.

    ​In today's video, I am referencing a particularly memorable time in my life. In fact, I think it is safe to say, the most important period in my life so far. The years 1990–1995 were years of growth, self-discovery and finally coming to terms with my sexuality. This particular chapter really defined the person I am today, and despite coming of age at a time of great discrimination and inequality, I was grateful for the people who were a part of my life at the time. Without them, things would have been much tougher than then they already were. My naturally anxious disposition was kept at bay, through the influences of friends, who knew me more, than I probably knew myself.
    In 1990, I was a respectable civil servant, responsible for planning a large area of London for the 1991 census, in my role as an Enumeration District Planner. This was a great job with amazing prospects for the future, but as I cautiously navigated my way in the world, I threw caution to the wind. I gave up my career, for a life, that even I couldn't have imagined. 

    This was the age I discovered my sexuality and came out to close friends. My first boyfriend, in 1990, was a stepping stone to the life I lead, 35 years later. Initially hesitant, as I denied who I really was, I soon found kindred folk, other gay people just like me, as I returned to full-time education in Southampton.

    I suppose I could say my life spiralled out of control at this point, as University life became one long party, where lectures, work, and knuckling down often took second place. Maybe if I had chosen a course that I was actually interested in, things would have been very different. However, I did what was expected of me, and not what I really wanted to do. The actor and writer that really pushed my buttons, were just too far out of reach. In my mind, I would never be good enough, so I gave up at the first hurdle.

    ​Despite my failings, which are many, I wouldn't change this period for the World. Not only did I discover the person inside me, I also met the most eclectic group of people I could have ever wished for. My network was vast and diverse, and I am lucky enough to still be in contact with many of these friends even today. That is testament to their welcoming nature, and an appreciation of the often chaotic times we all spent together, at a time of World change, and the birth of equal rights for all. 

    This was five years that aged me out of all recognition, but for the right reasons. In my early twenties, I finally discovered what being gay was all about. I made so many mistakes along the way, hanging out with the wrong people, doing things I shouldn't and not working hard enough to succeed financially, but the experiences I had were worth every bad choice I made.

    All of my strong, enduring relationships, were born between 1990-1995, this tumultuous, topsy-turvy five-year time frame, including my current marriage to husband Darrell in 1995. Had I done the right thing and continued my career in Her Majesties Civil Service, my life would have been very different today.  The disparity would have been stark, so much so, I may have even been married with kids, waiting for the day, I could finally come out, like so many I have known, and often criticised myself.

    So no, I wasn't the success I planned to be, I battle more today than I ever have done, but my affluence is my encounters, exploits, adventures and endurances, culminating in the long, loving relationship I still enjoy. That's all that matters, that's everything I ever wanted — the money, fame, and fortune were nothing more than a superficial dream!
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