Hey there. It's been awhile since I came here to vent my spleen.
I apologise for that. Kinda.
During the time between my last post and typing this, well, let's just say a lot of shit has gone down and I've been muddling along. It's about time I spoke up.
ADVANCE WARNING: this will be a post mainly about myself.
Right. So, over the time since I last logged in things, and indeed life, have taken several ups and downs. I finished my degree, graduating with 2:2, I've done some stuff. I started up a YouTube channel revolving around my gaming activity, which has had some very limited success. (as in, I have uploaded, people have "watched" and I gained a few subscribers, which I am very thankful for.)
I have gained and lost jobs, reconnected and disconnected from people I know. Argued with loved ones, cried, hurt, fucked things up, wondered and dreamed about what might have been.
Mostly because of what I am now understanding to be depression.
Yeah, the D word.
Basically, for a good long while now, I've been at war with myself. An internal battle that doesn't seem to want to end anytime soon. I have good days where the fug recedes to the periphery but never truly goes away. Then I have the bad days, where no matter what, I am irritable, angry, emotional, anxious, prone to outbursts and fits of rage. I drive those closest to me away and I try to hurt them emotionally. I have become a bitter twisted shadow of a man who used to give a shit about everyone before himself. Now I can barely see past my own bullshit. The worst part is, somewhere deep inside, there's a part of me that's starting to enjoy it. THIS IS NOT WHO I AM. But I can't help myself.
In the last two weeks, I have been put on medication to lower my blood pressure because it was through the roof. Something that runs in the family. What has been niggling away at me is what I have since found out about my father. See a few years ago he had a massive stroke, that effectively wiped out two thirds of the right side of his brain. Now he has Parkinson's. What caused the stroke? Atrial fibrillation. A condition that causes irregular heart beat and in some cases abnormally fast heart rate. Basically, he blew a gasket, and it nearly killed him.
Now my mother is a trooper, she's had to sort the old man out, make sure he takes his meds, get him back on his feet etc. But, and this is where I come off sounding selfish but fuck it, it needs saying. Who ended up picking her up, getting her back on her feet. ME.
At the time of the stroke, I was living about 40 minutes drive away from my family. I was studying full time, I have a son, and my partner also was studying full time at the college 10 miles away in the next town. I made the trip in to uni in my home town and back 40 mins away twice a week for studies. It was around 60 miles a day, so 120 miles a week, just for studying. Then the stroke happened and I ended up driving in and out every day of the week. Taking mum to the hospital, then taking them to every appointment he needed to be at with his doctor. Sometimes I would end up staying over because I was that tired. Meaning my son didn't get to sleep in his own bed for two nights of the week.
We ended up moving back to a town myself and my partner hated, and had tried to escape from for so long. She ended up having to leave her uni course. I barely scraped through mine with a 2:2.
My partner, all though she will never openly admit, blames me for her pulling out of her course, and all the bullshit moving back, the loss of money, the upheaval, and the set back after set back we endured. She has only told me this once in the heat of argument.
It kills me she has to feel that way. But I have to selfish here. What about how I feel? I have a sister. where was she when I was running my ass into the ground physically and finacially? The answer is: nowhere to be seen. Not until 3 months later, she swanned in like she owned the place, gave me the elbow and became the golden child. jealousy? You're damn right. I was there from day one killing myself, nearly ending my relationship, making sure everyone else was okay. My life had and has fallen apart. I'm just existing in this world that I no longer want to be a part of.
But who will listen? Not my partner. We barely talk anymore. My mother has enough on her plate as it is. I can't hold a conversation with my dad for more than 5 minutes at a time before he gets distracted by something else. I rage so much no one wants to listen.
I've never been good expressing myself verbally, I have always found it easier to write. Hence the professional writing degree. But even that hasn't helped.
I have alienated even those that I spent three years in a classroom with. I can't say I blame them. I wouldn't want to know me either.
This week I am at the doctors again for a follow up about my blood pressure. I will pursue the problem with my Dad's ticker, see if I have any similar issues. I will also use it as a platform to discuss my depression. Someone has to help me...somehow.
Thanks for listening to me rant. Hopefully I'll be back. Then again, maybe I won't.
T
Sunday 6 March 2016
Friday 5 October 2012
intro of story
so here is a short, very rough introduction to a horror story I'm writing. I've been plotting this for awhile, and it is basically me flicking the V's at my old neighbours.
As mentiond previously it's very rough and is probably not very good. But I have had not a lot of sleep this week while Ryder has been ill. Anyway please read and comment...or don't I don't really care.
‘If you’ve found this, then
you know about what happened here. South Kelsey’s little secret. Take my
advice; get out now while you still can. Leave your possessions, just take your
family and get the hell out! Don’t be like me; don’t wait until it’s too late.
Just get out. Now!
Fog covered the forest like a damp blanket. It rolled between the Fir trees like smoke from an open fire, rolling over the shrubs and bushes scattered here and there on the forest floor, dew glistening on the fallen leaves like diamonds caught in sunlight.
There was a blood curdling screech from her right, and then she felt the hot stabs of pain in her waist, side and thigh as she was pulled from her feet, hitting the ground hard, instantly feeling herself being dragged deeper into the woods, she was on her stomach facing away from her would be assailant, she tried to kick out but her legs wouldn't work, she clawed at the sodden earth with her finger nails, several pulling from the beds, she couldn't find purchase.
Sara Michaels was dragged away screaming...screams that cut off with a yelp...no more than fifty feet away from the road that would have taken her to safety.
As mentiond previously it's very rough and is probably not very good. But I have had not a lot of sleep this week while Ryder has been ill. Anyway please read and comment...or don't I don't really care.
Cold Blooded
A little while ago, my wife and I along with our son
moved out here to what we thought was the perfect home, a nice little cottage
in the middle of nowhere away from the bustle of Grimsby. We were about to wake
up in a living nightmare. What follows is my account of what happened here. It
all starts with Sara Michaels.’
Fog covered the forest like a damp blanket. It rolled between the Fir trees like smoke from an open fire, rolling over the shrubs and bushes scattered here and there on the forest floor, dew glistening on the fallen leaves like diamonds caught in sunlight.
If only she the time to stop and enjoy the thick air.
Unfortunately for Sara Michaels, she didn't. She had to complete her morning
jog in the next hour, or she would be late for the early shift at the diner.
Normally she would skirt the forested section of the town and run the long way
round to her small flat above the grocery shop, however she had fallen out of
stride, something she had never done, maybe it was the mist in the air that had
made her cautious on the roads, either way if she didn't actually cut through
the woods, she'd be an hour late for work, and she couldn't afford to lose the
pay. Damnit girl, pick up the pace! She mentally kicked herself and
tightened the knot in her blonde pony-tail. Making the decision and turning her
I-pod up, she ran off the narrow track that edged the wood, and pushed deeper
inside...
Sara headed deeper into the
woods, keeping step with the beat on her iPod, she kept her gaze down on the
leaf ridden ground, mindful that she could easily twist an ankle on a loose
branch or a pot hole. After twenty minutes or so she stopped to stretch her
hamstrings, releasing the cramp that she could feel starting, that’s when she felt
it. It was a niggling awareness at the back of her mind at first, which spread
to the hairs on the back of her neck standing up; it was the acute feeling of
being watched. She pulled the ear buds off and turned off the music, listening,
carefully scanning the trees. Nothing; No birds, no animals, not a fucking
thing!! Suddenly she heard something crashing through the trees behind her.
Sara panicked and ran.
Branches tore at her fair skin, her breath burning in
her chest, lungs screaming for respite. But the crashing was gaining on her. She
didn't dare look back and somehow managed to push her aching limbs harder. THERE!
She saw the forest thinning out, saw the black asphalt through the trees,
she took a long ragged gasps, sweat running freely from every pore.There was a blood curdling screech from her right, and then she felt the hot stabs of pain in her waist, side and thigh as she was pulled from her feet, hitting the ground hard, instantly feeling herself being dragged deeper into the woods, she was on her stomach facing away from her would be assailant, she tried to kick out but her legs wouldn't work, she clawed at the sodden earth with her finger nails, several pulling from the beds, she couldn't find purchase.
Sara Michaels was dragged away screaming...screams that cut off with a yelp...no more than fifty feet away from the road that would have taken her to safety.
Wednesday 11 April 2012
stuff to do with college and...stuff
well its been a good long while since my last post. Sorry for that, but it's not like anyone is reading it anyway :P what I have in mind today is to share with you an slice of the script that I going to replace my current script for scriptwriting with (lots of scripts there Tom.)
Anyway here goes, promise not to laugh.
Anyway here goes, promise not to laugh.
My Brother’s Keeper
By
Tom Hancock
tomhancock19@hotmail.com
FADE INTO:
EXT. NIGHT. ONE WEEK AGO
A powerful storm is moving in, lightning flashes, thunder
rumbles, the rain lashes down in stair rods bouncing a foot
of the road.
INT. HOUSE. NIGHT
The house is a typical two up, two down council affair.
Neutral coloured wallpaper, neutral carpets. Boring Beige.
Lightning flashes from behind the cracks of the curtains in
the small windows, the only light besides the dull red
coming from a corner lamp. Thunder booms overhead, the door
shakes in it’s frame. The storm has arrived.
In the centre of the living room, is a pale well worn and
abused sofa.
Pulled close to the sofa, we see a battered coffee table,
every surface scarred by cigarettes. We also see the
remnants of six lines of a powdery substance, a razor blade
lays flat close by. A small plastic baggy, wrinkled an empty
hands on to the edge of the table.
From outside the bathroom door, we can hear the sounds of a
pitched battle. Shouts and screams and unadulterated
violence. The screams of the woman are cut off with dull wet
crack.
INT. HOSPITAL ROOM. DAY. PRESENT TIME
A woman lies in her bed in a critical condition.
She is an unrecognizable mess, her injuries are horrific,
her face has been beaten so badly, we can’t distinguish her
facial features. Her blonde hair is caked with blood. Her
body is much the same. Broken.
She was beautiful once.
The life support machine is the only thing keeping her
alive.
Beep. It breathes.
Beep. She Breathes.
A shadow falls on her bedside.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 2.
Cain, in his thirties, wears a dark and expensive suit. He
is a professional. A corporate "Trouble Shooter". He is tall
and powerfully built, not massively but powerful. He
crumples into a chair by the side of the bed, his hand
obscures his face.
Thunder rumbles in the distant skies.
A Doctor hovers at the foot of the bed, reading the chart,
his white coat is immaculate.
DOCTOR
I told you it wasn’t good. We only
figured out it was Mel from her
dental records and blood work.
The Cain’s voice is barely a whisper.
CAIN
Do they know...?
DOCTOR
Where he is? I don’t know.
CAIN
I’ll find him...
The doctor stares down at the floor.
DOCTOR
I know. It’s what happens when you
do that worries me Cain.
CAIN
You know what happens. You where
here in this very room when I made
the promise that THIS would never
happen again.
As Cains voice rises, the thunder gets louder.
He stands up, and we still do not see his face.
CAIN
Will she live?
The doctor massages his temple.
DOCTOR
Her injuries are too severe. He
skull is fractured, internal
bleeding. Not to mention damage to
her brain. There has been no
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 3.
DOCTOR (cont’d)
improvement since she was brought
here. All we can do is make her
comfortable.
Cain sighs and strides out of the room. He talks to Mel as
he leaves, his back still turned.
CAIN
I’m sorry Mel. I’m so sorry I
wasn’t here to stop him. I swear to
you I will kill him.
Cain leaves the room.
EXT. HOSPITAL. DAY
As Cain Leaves the hospital, the storm that has been
threatening to return all week finally arrives in full
force.
Thursday 19 January 2012
Monday 26 December 2011
new post
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz there you go.
Tuesday 29 November 2011
its done.
handed in the assignment for Writer and Reader today. I have to say I am glad that I have no longer got that milstone round my neck, it has been for me, a royal pain in the ass. My brain just does not function in the way it needs to to do this lesson, I don't look at an image and see the hidden meaning there, not unless prompted anyway. Not to say I don't enjoy the lesson, I do.
If this scrapes a pass I'll be happy, if it fails I'll resit. I'm definatly going to start the next assignments over Christmas so I have plenty of time.
Changing the subject completely, if by chance, and its such a slim chance that you are reading I can't believe I am bothering. The next time a certain group of Chavs decide they want to stalk towards my future wife while she is waiting for me outside the shop with my son, and then has the bottle to come poke his scrawny neck around the corner to see if she's still alone, be warned, you might find me staring right back at you.
People like this, are the exact reason why I left Grimsby, because of the lawlessness that has gone unchecked for too long, they think they own the streets. I grew up on the streets where this encounter occured, now I don't feel secure. I'm not saying that Grimsby is rotten to the core, there are still some good people left, most of them being on my college course I might add, but it is getting to the point were I have to wonder how this town is still on the map. Theres nothing here anymore, Grimsby is barron and dead, the college is the only thing keeping it going on life support. Companies refuse to invest, and the council won't do anything to encourage them, the police force is next to non existent. I remember reading in the telegraph a couple of years ago, that over the christmas period, the entire on duty police force consisted of 6 patrol cars for the whole of humberside, this is, in my opinion is pathetic, and unfortuantly the current governemnt are not going to help.
As far as the lawless thugs that have overrun the streets are concerened? Well, I don't condone vigilantism, but someone needs to take back the town. I won't lead, I'm not that guy, but gladly for the right reasons...I'll follow. Some might say that it is not the answer, I'd agree, but country wide something needs to be done about the knife crime, random acts of violence and the seething rage that has infected youths of today.
Not all of them I must stress, but a minority of them...and its not just youths (just look at the riots recently) but in my opinion, its about time the fair people of this once great nation stood up for itself, and turned things around.
I'll leave it there for tonight, but here is my final thought.
did you know that fuzzy wuzzy was a woman?
If this scrapes a pass I'll be happy, if it fails I'll resit. I'm definatly going to start the next assignments over Christmas so I have plenty of time.
Changing the subject completely, if by chance, and its such a slim chance that you are reading I can't believe I am bothering. The next time a certain group of Chavs decide they want to stalk towards my future wife while she is waiting for me outside the shop with my son, and then has the bottle to come poke his scrawny neck around the corner to see if she's still alone, be warned, you might find me staring right back at you.
People like this, are the exact reason why I left Grimsby, because of the lawlessness that has gone unchecked for too long, they think they own the streets. I grew up on the streets where this encounter occured, now I don't feel secure. I'm not saying that Grimsby is rotten to the core, there are still some good people left, most of them being on my college course I might add, but it is getting to the point were I have to wonder how this town is still on the map. Theres nothing here anymore, Grimsby is barron and dead, the college is the only thing keeping it going on life support. Companies refuse to invest, and the council won't do anything to encourage them, the police force is next to non existent. I remember reading in the telegraph a couple of years ago, that over the christmas period, the entire on duty police force consisted of 6 patrol cars for the whole of humberside, this is, in my opinion is pathetic, and unfortuantly the current governemnt are not going to help.
As far as the lawless thugs that have overrun the streets are concerened? Well, I don't condone vigilantism, but someone needs to take back the town. I won't lead, I'm not that guy, but gladly for the right reasons...I'll follow. Some might say that it is not the answer, I'd agree, but country wide something needs to be done about the knife crime, random acts of violence and the seething rage that has infected youths of today.
Not all of them I must stress, but a minority of them...and its not just youths (just look at the riots recently) but in my opinion, its about time the fair people of this once great nation stood up for itself, and turned things around.
I'll leave it there for tonight, but here is my final thought.
did you know that fuzzy wuzzy was a woman?
Friday 25 November 2011
Writer and the Reader
Its been awhile...but I haven't forgotten all of you (thanks Micky:P)
Basically I have been working on my W and the R essay, and although I have only 500 words to go, I would give my right nut, and probably my left, if someone would kindly watch aliens and finish it off for me.
I just read another deconstruction by some random task on the tinternet and I would give my right, and probably left nut to have had the brains to write that one out. boo and indeed hiss.
Basically I have been working on my W and the R essay, and although I have only 500 words to go, I would give my right nut, and probably my left, if someone would kindly watch aliens and finish it off for me.
I just read another deconstruction by some random task on the tinternet and I would give my right, and probably left nut to have had the brains to write that one out. boo and indeed hiss.
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