Using My Hands

One for the road.

Read After Burnout


I have been spending an awful lot of time in front of this screen. It’s become a go-to action for when I wake up. It gives me a reason and an excuse. It’s part of my recovery. It  could also be part of my self-deception.

Of all the things to say to yourself when you wake up on Monday morning (things like, “Oh,no” or “Shit” or “Why do I continue to do this nonsense?”), the words, “I think I will go to Wales,” do not normally spring into the mind of a reasonable person who is in possession of a small fortune of shiny, multi-coloured marbles. On Monday of this week, those very words leapt from my mouth like insanely caught sprats onto the deck of a boat bound for market.

My wife looked at me through the steam rising from our mugs of morning tea and…

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This is the story of what happened to me when anxiety took a grip. I lost my senses, I lost my job, and I lost me. I then turned to writing to find those things that had gone missing. How can you teach when you believe that education is a business that is failing in its primary remit of helping to create a better society? Indeed, how can you teach when you believe that you have nothing of value to pass on? The book/blog is the story of my recovery from the absolute darkness of the early days. It is an Odyssey through my life over the last twelve months and a retracing of my steps to discover how I found myself there. More than all of that, it is a re-evaluation and a rejoicing of all that which I call life. Happy reading and I hope it helps. There is madness, Everyday Madness, and not all of it comes from within.

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