Just googled "broken man", and the urban dictionary definition is as follows:
broken man - 1 definition - (n.) someone who has fallen from grace. Living in poverty with a soiled reputation.
Many thanks for all your comment - I will respond soon. For now, I am hiding....
The Broken Man
Showing posts with label broken. Show all posts
Showing posts with label broken. Show all posts
Tuesday, 31 March 2009
Tuesday, 24 March 2009
Bankrupt
As of 10.30am, I am officially bankrupt. It's been coming for a long time really, and it means things are at least getting sorted. Huge layoffs are happening at work, and I may also be made redundant. The job market in the UK, as in the rest of the world currently, is problematic, but there is food on the table and baby Grace is smiling. My studies are slipping, motivation dwindling, but I'm still here, even if somewhat irregularly,
Yours, as broken as ever,
The Broken Man
Yours, as broken as ever,
The Broken Man
Thursday, 26 February 2009
Broken
I am as ever broken. The forms for the bankruptcy still haven’t been filled and the letters keep coming and the phone calls don’t stop demanding money yesterday. Work is manic right now and I seem to be on a downward spiral. The studies are not going well. I get home from work at 7pm and try to collect myself, the flat is chaos and I don’t seem to have time to sort it out.
Grace is at the age, the grand age of 10 weeks, where what she needs is her mother. When I am left holding her even for a few mins she quickly dissolves into tears, and I wonder what it is that I can offer her. She is to young too know who I am, and even if she did I don’t know it would help. I crawl into bed late and get up early, and the sleep deperavation takes its tole. I need a shower, cant remember when I last had one, know I need to bath grace, and yet the time escapes.
Not coping
As ever,
The Broken Man
Grace is at the age, the grand age of 10 weeks, where what she needs is her mother. When I am left holding her even for a few mins she quickly dissolves into tears, and I wonder what it is that I can offer her. She is to young too know who I am, and even if she did I don’t know it would help. I crawl into bed late and get up early, and the sleep deperavation takes its tole. I need a shower, cant remember when I last had one, know I need to bath grace, and yet the time escapes.
Not coping
As ever,
The Broken Man
Wednesday, 11 February 2009
A watched pot, upset parents, and tears
Living in shared accommodation has its advantages – and its disadvantages. My mother had an old kettle that seemed to me to take a week to boil. Speaking to a friend who said that he had saved a “small fortune” by heating his water on the gas stove my mother went out and brought a new £40 kettle to be placed on the stove, and chucked away the old and admittedly battered electric kettle. While the electric kettle was slow to come to the boil, the gas kettle is painfully slow. Because it doesn’t turn itself of, you have to sit in the kitchen with it. Watching it. Waiting for it.
I am a creature of habit. In the morning I go into the kitchen, put the kettle on, put my porridge in the microwave, go to the loo, come back, take my porrage from the microwave pour my cup of tea. Not now. Now I sit and wait. I know its not long. Really I do. It is probably only two or three minutes longer. Yet it feels like 10-15mins. The watched kettle takes an age, the minutes dragging by painfully. Infuriated by the delay I make a search of the internet only to discover that a gas kettle does not save any money at all. It may even be more expensive. The damage is already done however, the new kettle has been brought and we must live with it. Or not have a cup of tea.
In other news the long suffering wife continues to do battle with other mums. Someone on her “list” sent out a recommendation of a book talking about how good routines are for children. Of course the long suffering wife had just been reading an article providing showing that routines create more tears, less sleep, and more stress all around. She duly circulated the article to the list – a move designed to generate feelings of hatred among the rest of the group only slightly less than her correct statement that cot death risks don’t decrees after six weeks but increase so it really isn’t the time to put your baby in a nursery.
Today I want to cry. I can find a reason. I want to stop the world and get off. Maybe it’s the kowladge of all the things I have still to collect from the old flat. Or the bankruptcy forms I haven’t finised filling out, or the pressure of work, or..Maybe its an accumulation of things, but whatever is causing it I want to hide under the duvet and vanish for a while. I am at work, its my lunch break – yet I wish I was at home, in a golden happy moment with my daughter smiling happily. I know I will not get home till seven or so by which time Grace will be struggling with colic (advice on remerdies not required). I know I will not eat till eight. I know I still have studying to do. I know when I do get home I will have to sit and wait for the kettle to boil.
I have read all your replies as ever – updates received on my phone which is far to difficult to reply on. I am listening even when I don’t answer. I am reading if sporadically your blogs even when I don’t post to your boards. Blah
Yours as broken as ever
The Broken Man
I am a creature of habit. In the morning I go into the kitchen, put the kettle on, put my porridge in the microwave, go to the loo, come back, take my porrage from the microwave pour my cup of tea. Not now. Now I sit and wait. I know its not long. Really I do. It is probably only two or three minutes longer. Yet it feels like 10-15mins. The watched kettle takes an age, the minutes dragging by painfully. Infuriated by the delay I make a search of the internet only to discover that a gas kettle does not save any money at all. It may even be more expensive. The damage is already done however, the new kettle has been brought and we must live with it. Or not have a cup of tea.
In other news the long suffering wife continues to do battle with other mums. Someone on her “list” sent out a recommendation of a book talking about how good routines are for children. Of course the long suffering wife had just been reading an article providing showing that routines create more tears, less sleep, and more stress all around. She duly circulated the article to the list – a move designed to generate feelings of hatred among the rest of the group only slightly less than her correct statement that cot death risks don’t decrees after six weeks but increase so it really isn’t the time to put your baby in a nursery.
Today I want to cry. I can find a reason. I want to stop the world and get off. Maybe it’s the kowladge of all the things I have still to collect from the old flat. Or the bankruptcy forms I haven’t finised filling out, or the pressure of work, or..Maybe its an accumulation of things, but whatever is causing it I want to hide under the duvet and vanish for a while. I am at work, its my lunch break – yet I wish I was at home, in a golden happy moment with my daughter smiling happily. I know I will not get home till seven or so by which time Grace will be struggling with colic (advice on remerdies not required). I know I will not eat till eight. I know I still have studying to do. I know when I do get home I will have to sit and wait for the kettle to boil.
I have read all your replies as ever – updates received on my phone which is far to difficult to reply on. I am listening even when I don’t answer. I am reading if sporadically your blogs even when I don’t post to your boards. Blah
Yours as broken as ever
The Broken Man
Thursday, 15 January 2009
How it is....
The alarm goes of at 6.45am and I don’t want to get up. I sleep for another 15mins before dragging myself out of bed. Breakfast and off to work. Work pressure is high but I try to study in my lunch break. I make it home for 6.30pm and take Grace while the long suffering wife cooks. All being well by 7.30pm we have eaten. I then need to work on boxing up the flat and taking things over to my mother's. We are moving in under 14 days.
I have cancelled all the direct debits, cancelled the mortgague payment, cancelled all the bills – the letters will soon rain down on me, the final demands – but I haven’t got the money to pay the bills. Paperwork needs looking at but I haven’t the will or the time to do it. At 1am I crawl into bed, at 3am grace wakes to feed. At 6.45am the alarm goes of and I don’t want to get up. I sleep for another 15mins before dragging myself…and so it goes on.
It is the long suffering wife's birthday on the 27th. Grace’s dedication on the 1st. So much to do and right now all I want to do is sleep.
Last night the wife asked me how much I think her stomach will recover. If how it is now is how it is. She is doing the exercises from the physio – we are a long way off from where things will be but I see her struggling and there is no easy comfort I can offer. The long suffering wife was always going to struggle with a post birth body – she is a recovering annorexic on the wagon for some 10 years now. The tear of her stomach muscles though has made things so much harder, so much worse than they would have been otherwise. She has never had a positive body image and now I see her walking on a thin wire high above the world trying so hard not to fall, trying to cling on.
In a brief moment between feeds, between changed nappys, between packing boxes, between Grace with wind, I catch glimpse of my wife and daughter's eyes, brief moments, the merest hint of a smile and for a moment I lose myself in it and everything seems okay – and then I remember that there are things I need to be doing and so I drag myself out of my chair and continue the battle for survival.
Today I am struggling.
Yours as ever,
The Broken Man.
I have cancelled all the direct debits, cancelled the mortgague payment, cancelled all the bills – the letters will soon rain down on me, the final demands – but I haven’t got the money to pay the bills. Paperwork needs looking at but I haven’t the will or the time to do it. At 1am I crawl into bed, at 3am grace wakes to feed. At 6.45am the alarm goes of and I don’t want to get up. I sleep for another 15mins before dragging myself…and so it goes on.
It is the long suffering wife's birthday on the 27th. Grace’s dedication on the 1st. So much to do and right now all I want to do is sleep.
Last night the wife asked me how much I think her stomach will recover. If how it is now is how it is. She is doing the exercises from the physio – we are a long way off from where things will be but I see her struggling and there is no easy comfort I can offer. The long suffering wife was always going to struggle with a post birth body – she is a recovering annorexic on the wagon for some 10 years now. The tear of her stomach muscles though has made things so much harder, so much worse than they would have been otherwise. She has never had a positive body image and now I see her walking on a thin wire high above the world trying so hard not to fall, trying to cling on.
In a brief moment between feeds, between changed nappys, between packing boxes, between Grace with wind, I catch glimpse of my wife and daughter's eyes, brief moments, the merest hint of a smile and for a moment I lose myself in it and everything seems okay – and then I remember that there are things I need to be doing and so I drag myself out of my chair and continue the battle for survival.
Today I am struggling.
Yours as ever,
The Broken Man.
Tuesday, 18 November 2008
A Broken Blog
HI, this is Broken Man's Wife. Sorry for the long absence - I usually update the blog with Broken Man's scribblings, but for some reason I haven't been able to access it for a while, and Broken Man has only just had the time to fix it so that I can.
So, this is his last blog entry - it is from a few days ago, but hopefully normal service will now be resumed!
A Broken Blog
Today my neck hurts, a lot.
Today work has been hard..
Today I am trying to answer Epicurus paradox without success.
Excuse my silence, when things look black I retreat,
I could pretend it’s to regroup – its not.
I just can't face the world right now
Yours as ever,
The Broken Man
So, this is his last blog entry - it is from a few days ago, but hopefully normal service will now be resumed!
A Broken Blog
Today my neck hurts, a lot.
Today work has been hard..
Today I am trying to answer Epicurus paradox without success.
Excuse my silence, when things look black I retreat,
I could pretend it’s to regroup – its not.
I just can't face the world right now
Yours as ever,
The Broken Man
Thursday, 30 October 2008
Some Days
Some days the world seems so dark. Work seems so hard, and even getting
out of bed feels almost impossible. Sitting at my desk surrounded by
sheets of paper and things to do, the work backlog building up, and
essays sat undone I just want to cry. Its my birthday soon. 33 years
old. Soon to be bankrupt. Today everything seems to much. Some days its
like that.
Yours as ever,
The Broken Man
out of bed feels almost impossible. Sitting at my desk surrounded by
sheets of paper and things to do, the work backlog building up, and
essays sat undone I just want to cry. Its my birthday soon. 33 years
old. Soon to be bankrupt. Today everything seems to much. Some days its
like that.
Yours as ever,
The Broken Man
Thursday, 16 October 2008
To Smack
Eagle's Wings kindly provided me a link in response to my “Being a Dad” post. Arwen then responded to the content of the site the link was to, and as I don’t have anything else sensible to blog about today I thought I would take up the issue in a post!
For me personally, the theories of parenting that seem to make the most sense are those dealing with “attachment parenting.” How this works out in practice for me...well, we will have to wait and see but I will keep you informed!!
I think the link to the particular site that Eagle's Wings sent me is clearly trying very hard to find the right path in parenting, and address the question, "how can we parent in a godly manner?" I believe however, that the answers it comes up with are wrong. For example, here is an extract from the site:
Eileen wrote in concerned about a problem she felt that she was having with her childs behaviour in church:
"I am unable to find any specific advice on how to get a young child (ours is 18 months) to sit still in church. We would so like to have him in the service with us instead of the nursery, but that is completely unrealistic right now. You wouldn't advocate spanking him right in the middle of church, would you? He is otherwise a fairly well-behaved, happy little boy who has responded well to your training techniques."
The response to this given by the web site is :
“Please don't do that! Don't disrupt the entire church to spank your child. When you train at home you will not have to train in public. Go home and train. Set up a training session each day, duplicating as closely as possible the church service. Sit in uncomfortable chairs and play some hymns on the stereo. Then play teaching or preaching tapes while the family sits quietly and listens. Or you can sit beside him and read the Bible in a monotone voice. Better yet, if you don’t have the electronic media and you are able to induce your spouse to assist you, let your husband pretend he is the preacher and carry on for a little while, saying nothing interesting. Keep your switch handy, but not visible during this session. Speak in a whisper or use sign language as you would in church. If the child offends at a level that would be inappropriate in church, then swat him while making your sign language or while whispering your correction. "
I am involved in the leadership of church service, and find this description of church deeply disturbing. I am more than happy to have children being children in church! And I at least attempt to make sure that it provides them with some stimulation and sense of the presence of God. I could rant on that for hours alone, but I want to address the issue I consider far more important and disturbing: the idea of using a switch on an 18 mnth old child.
The issue of smacking has raged strongly in the UK as it has in many other parts of the world. The recommendations (to punish a child with a "rod" or "whip") of the website in question would be considered illegal in England, and in my opinion rightly so.
For this reason (and only this reason) I have taken the unusual step of removing the comments of both Eagle's Wings and Arwen, as they contain links to this website, and I am not comfortable providing links to a webpage which advocates something which is illegal in this county.
My attitude to smacking children is very much based on the kind of person I would like my child to become. My hope is that my child will be able to,with time, have a reasoned conversation about acceptable and unacceptable behaviour. Until that time I hope that the tone of my voice, and the way I respond to my child will show what is and isn’t okay. My hope is that as they grow older they will not feel the need to use physical force to convince someone of their belief, or to “get their own way” and that they will, as much as possible,be able to avoid situations in which others use physical force to coheres them.
I realise that we live in a society where this is not always possible, and on rare occasions I have had to use physical force to restrain someone. I worked for a while as a bouncer, and for a while in a hostel and over a period of two years I found a few occasions where force was required to prevent someone hurting themselves or someone else. I did not however, even in these situations find it necessary to hit them, instead I used the minimum force required to safely restrain them and then only at times where drink or drugs had made them incapable of reason, or I felt it was best to remove an iron bar from someones hand before talking through the issues surrounding attempting to beat someone to death with it.
I find it hard then to visualise a situation where a baby or child would be able to behave in a manner which would require me to strike them. If I can handle a 18 stone drunk man who is swearing and aggressive without slapping him, why should I need to slap a child? Both are fairly incapable of reason, yet in both cases, a potentially dangerous situations can be made safe, (by removing an iron bar from a drunk man, or lifting a baby away from a plug socket). In most cases I have found the tone of my voice and my physical presence are sufficient to convey that I am taking control of the situation, and that it will be alright.
In my youth work I have come across a lot of very broken people. Never have I felt the need to break a “hard case”. Instead I have tried to show people that they are cared for and valued, that their lives have meaning, and there is hope for them, and so, again, I can't subscribe to a style of parenting that suggests you have to “break a child” and let them know you are in charge. They can, I believe,know that you are indeed the parent, without you having to instil fear. As a broken man, I have no desire to break my child. Instead I hope, I pray, I will be able to be a parent who can help guide a child into becoming the person they are capable of being, whole, fulfilled, and loved.
Yours as ever,
The Broken Man
For me personally, the theories of parenting that seem to make the most sense are those dealing with “attachment parenting.” How this works out in practice for me...well, we will have to wait and see but I will keep you informed!!
I think the link to the particular site that Eagle's Wings sent me is clearly trying very hard to find the right path in parenting, and address the question, "how can we parent in a godly manner?" I believe however, that the answers it comes up with are wrong. For example, here is an extract from the site:
Eileen wrote in concerned about a problem she felt that she was having with her childs behaviour in church:
"I am unable to find any specific advice on how to get a young child (ours is 18 months) to sit still in church. We would so like to have him in the service with us instead of the nursery, but that is completely unrealistic right now. You wouldn't advocate spanking him right in the middle of church, would you? He is otherwise a fairly well-behaved, happy little boy who has responded well to your training techniques."
The response to this given by the web site is :
“Please don't do that! Don't disrupt the entire church to spank your child. When you train at home you will not have to train in public. Go home and train. Set up a training session each day, duplicating as closely as possible the church service. Sit in uncomfortable chairs and play some hymns on the stereo. Then play teaching or preaching tapes while the family sits quietly and listens. Or you can sit beside him and read the Bible in a monotone voice. Better yet, if you don’t have the electronic media and you are able to induce your spouse to assist you, let your husband pretend he is the preacher and carry on for a little while, saying nothing interesting. Keep your switch handy, but not visible during this session. Speak in a whisper or use sign language as you would in church. If the child offends at a level that would be inappropriate in church, then swat him while making your sign language or while whispering your correction. "
I am involved in the leadership of church service, and find this description of church deeply disturbing. I am more than happy to have children being children in church! And I at least attempt to make sure that it provides them with some stimulation and sense of the presence of God. I could rant on that for hours alone, but I want to address the issue I consider far more important and disturbing: the idea of using a switch on an 18 mnth old child.
The issue of smacking has raged strongly in the UK as it has in many other parts of the world. The recommendations (to punish a child with a "rod" or "whip") of the website in question would be considered illegal in England, and in my opinion rightly so.
For this reason (and only this reason) I have taken the unusual step of removing the comments of both Eagle's Wings and Arwen, as they contain links to this website, and I am not comfortable providing links to a webpage which advocates something which is illegal in this county.
My attitude to smacking children is very much based on the kind of person I would like my child to become. My hope is that my child will be able to,with time, have a reasoned conversation about acceptable and unacceptable behaviour. Until that time I hope that the tone of my voice, and the way I respond to my child will show what is and isn’t okay. My hope is that as they grow older they will not feel the need to use physical force to convince someone of their belief, or to “get their own way” and that they will, as much as possible,be able to avoid situations in which others use physical force to coheres them.
I realise that we live in a society where this is not always possible, and on rare occasions I have had to use physical force to restrain someone. I worked for a while as a bouncer, and for a while in a hostel and over a period of two years I found a few occasions where force was required to prevent someone hurting themselves or someone else. I did not however, even in these situations find it necessary to hit them, instead I used the minimum force required to safely restrain them and then only at times where drink or drugs had made them incapable of reason, or I felt it was best to remove an iron bar from someones hand before talking through the issues surrounding attempting to beat someone to death with it.
I find it hard then to visualise a situation where a baby or child would be able to behave in a manner which would require me to strike them. If I can handle a 18 stone drunk man who is swearing and aggressive without slapping him, why should I need to slap a child? Both are fairly incapable of reason, yet in both cases, a potentially dangerous situations can be made safe, (by removing an iron bar from a drunk man, or lifting a baby away from a plug socket). In most cases I have found the tone of my voice and my physical presence are sufficient to convey that I am taking control of the situation, and that it will be alright.
In my youth work I have come across a lot of very broken people. Never have I felt the need to break a “hard case”. Instead I have tried to show people that they are cared for and valued, that their lives have meaning, and there is hope for them, and so, again, I can't subscribe to a style of parenting that suggests you have to “break a child” and let them know you are in charge. They can, I believe,know that you are indeed the parent, without you having to instil fear. As a broken man, I have no desire to break my child. Instead I hope, I pray, I will be able to be a parent who can help guide a child into becoming the person they are capable of being, whole, fulfilled, and loved.
Yours as ever,
The Broken Man
Wednesday, 15 October 2008
Being A Dad
In the next 2-3 months I am going to be a dad. It seems like a normal sentence, one which could have been written by any of several billion people over human history. Yet as every expectant father knows, there is nothing in all that shared experience and knowledge that helps you feel even a little bit more capable or prepared for the task.
I have often “joked” here that we won't be doing the whole crying thing – I will have a chat. I will explain acceptable behaviour. Tantrums? No. That will not happen. This will be a civilised parenting experience. My world is a rational one. It has a methodology. It takes me from one point to another.
The emotional side of things I have never been great with in honesty. After saying “there, there” I am, in honesty, done. There is a set quantity (small) of responding to emotions that I consider to be unavoidable. I don’t want to sound cold...really…but people crying…it's all a bit dull in honesty…and loud crying..well that’s just bad manners.
So I picture myself at 3 am with a crying baby not knowing how to settle it..and I feel very, very lost and, well.... really rather broken.
Please don’t get me wrong. I am very excited by it all too, really I am. Just also terrified.
With every bit of breath in my body, with all that I am, I ask that God might guide me and transform me into a person who won't completely screw up my childs life.
Yours in fear,
The Broken Man
I have often “joked” here that we won't be doing the whole crying thing – I will have a chat. I will explain acceptable behaviour. Tantrums? No. That will not happen. This will be a civilised parenting experience. My world is a rational one. It has a methodology. It takes me from one point to another.
The emotional side of things I have never been great with in honesty. After saying “there, there” I am, in honesty, done. There is a set quantity (small) of responding to emotions that I consider to be unavoidable. I don’t want to sound cold...really…but people crying…it's all a bit dull in honesty…and loud crying..well that’s just bad manners.
So I picture myself at 3 am with a crying baby not knowing how to settle it..and I feel very, very lost and, well.... really rather broken.
Please don’t get me wrong. I am very excited by it all too, really I am. Just also terrified.
With every bit of breath in my body, with all that I am, I ask that God might guide me and transform me into a person who won't completely screw up my childs life.
Yours in fear,
The Broken Man
Thursday, 9 October 2008
I could be anyone..and so could you
People seem to talk a lot right now about the fact that you don’t really know who you are talking to on the net. Something particually relevent as a subject of an annoymus blog I guess. You see on this blog I am in some ways more me than in other places. I tell you things because I don’t know you. Although in fairness I am very open about my life most of the time – some would say more than I should be!
So are we ourselves here? Let me take this on a few stages. If Two people fall in love on the internet, two strangers connected only by words on a screen. If he says he is 6 ft 1 and has a jaw line to die for, and if she says she is slim and has hair so red it makes you think of a setting sun, if for two years they talk and then at last arrange to meet, only to discover he is 5’4 and has four chins, and she is actually a he..then where they ever in love? Did they just fall in love with a fantasy or did in those two years the pictures they paint represent something inside. Let me go a stage further. Two people meet in real life, she pretends to be adventurous, a can do kind of girl, and he he makes out he loves the arts. They fall in love at the opera, and over time become what they pretended to be. Have they fallen in love with each other? What is it that defines us? Am I more me here or in “real life” and how about you?
We all edit. We pick the parts of our life to display to others. When you meet someone in a bar and they say they are called brain and work for a bank we don’t question this – why should we? We believe what people tell us, we accept the parts of there lives they want to share and we mostly avoid looking in there closest. For me this blog is often that closet. It’s the dirty washing. So I wonder..even with all the self editing, even with the careful selection of what to tell you about my day…is this actually more real?
Yours truly
The Broken Man
So are we ourselves here? Let me take this on a few stages. If Two people fall in love on the internet, two strangers connected only by words on a screen. If he says he is 6 ft 1 and has a jaw line to die for, and if she says she is slim and has hair so red it makes you think of a setting sun, if for two years they talk and then at last arrange to meet, only to discover he is 5’4 and has four chins, and she is actually a he..then where they ever in love? Did they just fall in love with a fantasy or did in those two years the pictures they paint represent something inside. Let me go a stage further. Two people meet in real life, she pretends to be adventurous, a can do kind of girl, and he he makes out he loves the arts. They fall in love at the opera, and over time become what they pretended to be. Have they fallen in love with each other? What is it that defines us? Am I more me here or in “real life” and how about you?
We all edit. We pick the parts of our life to display to others. When you meet someone in a bar and they say they are called brain and work for a bank we don’t question this – why should we? We believe what people tell us, we accept the parts of there lives they want to share and we mostly avoid looking in there closest. For me this blog is often that closet. It’s the dirty washing. So I wonder..even with all the self editing, even with the careful selection of what to tell you about my day…is this actually more real?
Yours truly
The Broken Man
Wednesday, 8 October 2008
Lost....
Boken Man has asked me to blog today, as he has gone into "hermit mode" and is struggling a little. Unfortunatly, I've had a pretty distasterous morning with broken down cars etc, and really won't have time....
He has written a little about yesterday, and it is below. I would just like to say though, that despite his slightly gloomy post, he did measure in the top 2% in Verbal Reasoning, and the tests yesterday were primarily trying to find out the problems he had, rather than his level of intellegence. His scores place him in the "gifted" catagory. Doesn't stop him feeling low about it, but I wanted someone to blow his trumpet, because he won't.....
(sorry, haven't corrected any spellings either!)
Broken Man's Wife
So yesterday..
I have asked the long suffering wife to blog for me today, she was nagging me last night about blogging and I couldn’t face it. Not that I don’t love you all (Not that I do….I don’t know you..hmm…will come back to that thought tomorrow….) Sometimes its easy to write about things, words fall of my fingers onto the pc without effort, other times thinking about a particually subject makes my ears bleed. The tests yesterday where okay. Really they where. They did however show what I have known all along – I am not as clever as I would like to be. I stand in the shadow of the greats knowing I will never attain greatness, that my mind just isn’t up to the job. I know we can achive beyond our skill levels etc, but well..sinking right now. I do okay in essays because I work very hard and spend money I havent got on books that no one else wants to read. Actual ability though? Raw thinking power? The kind of mind need to actually work things out – to move a discussion forward? No. I have a mind just good enough to know the questions but not good enough to get to the answers. I am ranting now. I will stop. I will as with all my blogs – almost (you know the ones I don’t do it with they are the terribly spelt ones) send this to my long suffering wife, she will add her comments, I am trying to encourage her to do a blog – and if not – at least appear regually here.
Yours as ever,
Lacking in all originality,
The Broken Man
He has written a little about yesterday, and it is below. I would just like to say though, that despite his slightly gloomy post, he did measure in the top 2% in Verbal Reasoning, and the tests yesterday were primarily trying to find out the problems he had, rather than his level of intellegence. His scores place him in the "gifted" catagory. Doesn't stop him feeling low about it, but I wanted someone to blow his trumpet, because he won't.....
(sorry, haven't corrected any spellings either!)
Broken Man's Wife
So yesterday..
I have asked the long suffering wife to blog for me today, she was nagging me last night about blogging and I couldn’t face it. Not that I don’t love you all (Not that I do….I don’t know you..hmm…will come back to that thought tomorrow….) Sometimes its easy to write about things, words fall of my fingers onto the pc without effort, other times thinking about a particually subject makes my ears bleed. The tests yesterday where okay. Really they where. They did however show what I have known all along – I am not as clever as I would like to be. I stand in the shadow of the greats knowing I will never attain greatness, that my mind just isn’t up to the job. I know we can achive beyond our skill levels etc, but well..sinking right now. I do okay in essays because I work very hard and spend money I havent got on books that no one else wants to read. Actual ability though? Raw thinking power? The kind of mind need to actually work things out – to move a discussion forward? No. I have a mind just good enough to know the questions but not good enough to get to the answers. I am ranting now. I will stop. I will as with all my blogs – almost (you know the ones I don’t do it with they are the terribly spelt ones) send this to my long suffering wife, she will add her comments, I am trying to encourage her to do a blog – and if not – at least appear regually here.
Yours as ever,
Lacking in all originality,
The Broken Man
Monday, 6 October 2008
So, What's Wrong With Him?
I don’t feel too bad posting twice in a day (although I tend to avoid it) as I have been bad at posting lately.
I am going for an assessment for Dyslexia/Dyspraxia tomorrow. And I am scared. I have always considered myself clever. Okay, I know that makes me arrogant, but I have generally considered myself as having a brain the size of a planet. Don’t worry – I don’t like me either – I think it’s a terrible way to see myself.
The point is that I have had a counter balance. Dyspraxia. I have argued that while I might be clever, I also have some issues outside my control. I have ways of coping with them, for sure, but my lack of achievement is because I have "issues". I talk too loud, not because I am rude, but because I have problems modulating my voice. I walk away when bored, not because I am insensitive, but because sometimes things are so dull they actually hurt my head.
So I am being tested. Poked. Prodded. They will tell me if they can find a label to fit. They will put my IQ on a graph. At the end of it all they will make their assessment. I am not sure which worries me most. Being told that I haven't got a problem or that I have. My wife has done a long list of all the things that are wrong with me. It’s a rare opportunity for any long suffering wife. I look at it and think – but I am just me. Yes, I break a few glasses, and sure, I can't remember names...and well, okay, I get lost in the bathroom but...
Wanting to curl up into a ball
Yours as ever
The very broken man
I am going for an assessment for Dyslexia/Dyspraxia tomorrow. And I am scared. I have always considered myself clever. Okay, I know that makes me arrogant, but I have generally considered myself as having a brain the size of a planet. Don’t worry – I don’t like me either – I think it’s a terrible way to see myself.
The point is that I have had a counter balance. Dyspraxia. I have argued that while I might be clever, I also have some issues outside my control. I have ways of coping with them, for sure, but my lack of achievement is because I have "issues". I talk too loud, not because I am rude, but because I have problems modulating my voice. I walk away when bored, not because I am insensitive, but because sometimes things are so dull they actually hurt my head.
So I am being tested. Poked. Prodded. They will tell me if they can find a label to fit. They will put my IQ on a graph. At the end of it all they will make their assessment. I am not sure which worries me most. Being told that I haven't got a problem or that I have. My wife has done a long list of all the things that are wrong with me. It’s a rare opportunity for any long suffering wife. I look at it and think – but I am just me. Yes, I break a few glasses, and sure, I can't remember names...and well, okay, I get lost in the bathroom but...
Wanting to curl up into a ball
Yours as ever
The very broken man
Monday, 29 September 2008
Money, Money, Money
I spoke to the relevant people about my debt at the weekend. I have been told that even if I need to go bankrupt, as long as the bankruptcy is discharged before I reach the stage of being ordained it will be okay. Obviously I don’t want to go down that particularly road, but I feel a huge weight lifted from my shoulders now that my situation is known and I havent been kicked of the course. Was going to leave this to go with a bigger write up on the weekend, but don’t know when or if I will get around to doing that and so many people have been praying about this, and asking about it, I felt I should tell you as soon as possible!
I am not much one for joy..but…just on this one occasion..I will offer a “Yippie”.
Yippie.
I realise that was an undignified outburst, but I feel it was called for. Just this once mind you.
Yours as ever,
The Broken Man
I am not much one for joy..but…just on this one occasion..I will offer a “Yippie”.
Yippie.
I realise that was an undignified outburst, but I feel it was called for. Just this once mind you.
Yours as ever,
The Broken Man
Wednesday, 17 September 2008
Selling....
As some of you know, I am trying to sell my flat (which is in negative equity) as I can't make the mortgage repayments. We spent weeks decorating, decluttering, cleaning – and finally three weeks ago the "for sale" sign went up. I know the market is slow – I know it’s the worse time to sell – but there really isn’t a choice. So far we have not had a single viewing.
It's not that I am panicking, you understand – what’s the worst that can happen? We will be repossessed... it's not a great thought – something's got to give. But there are also rays of hope – I got a letter this morning from my work saying they have given me a bonus for a project I worked on. We get to eat for another month!! Sometimes it's so hard to trust that things will come right..but I am trying.
Yours as ever
The Broke and Broken Man
It's not that I am panicking, you understand – what’s the worst that can happen? We will be repossessed... it's not a great thought – something's got to give. But there are also rays of hope – I got a letter this morning from my work saying they have given me a bonus for a project I worked on. We get to eat for another month!! Sometimes it's so hard to trust that things will come right..but I am trying.
Yours as ever
The Broke and Broken Man
Friday, 29 August 2008
Gd n da hse – God in the House
As part of my studies I have been directed to the Ship of Fools website – let me say early on – I like these guys – a lot. You and I both know there is a but coming….ready for it?
I have been asked to comment on the use of text message language used to translate the Bible, or bits of the Bible; apparently something which the Ships of Fools guys have done. I have been asked to consider how the text speak translation compares to my translation of the Bible.
My observations are as follows:
The Bibles I use attempt to translate from the Hebrew and Greek text trying as best they can to convey the full meaning of the text in its original language while maintaining readability. This is a balancing act which is never completely satisfactorily achieved by any translation.
The “text” translate takes this translation, and attempts to reduce it to its most simplified reduced form in an attempt to be “cool” and communicate with young people. In doing so, they lose not just a little of the context and meaning, but reduce it to almost complete insignificance. Even if we were to believe, which I don’t, that this reduced message, this "Bible lite", was still of value if it connected with young people, we face a further difficulty; it *doesn’t* connect with young people.
Anyone who has ever actually asked young people what they think of this kind of thing will know the reactions are far from positive. In the same way that nothing is more embarrassing to a child than a parent who attempts to use “cool” phrases or dress in teenage clothes, the same is true of middle age people attempting to adopt “text” language. Each generation creates or reclaims certain phrases and ways of communication to distinguish them from the generations that have gone before, the desire is not that others adopt this method of communication; in fact, if people do it ruins the whole point.
On a positive front it has made me think about one phrase that is in current usage “Oh My God” shorted to “OMG” as an explitive in texts. I think that a youth discussion group called OMG would be a great reclaiming of the phrase! Beyond that I am afraid I find the whole thing rather cringe worthy.
There is a middle ground. "The Street Bible” or “word on the Street” (http://www.amazon.co.uk/Word-Street-Rob-Lacey/dp/0310932254) by Rob Lacey (of blessed memory) is fantastic. It does not claim to be “The Bible”, hence Rob Lacey renamed it from "The Street Bible" to "word on the street" to avoid confusion. It is the author's own retelling of the bible in a contempary manner. It was not written initially with the plan of publication and so was written as a meditation on the texts using the terms the author felt most comfortable with, not attempting to second guess what anyone else would find “cool”. It’s a book for reading, not studying, but at the same time by using contempory languge it brings to life the richness and meaning of much of the Bible texts, and is a book I have recommended to many people – young and old – as a bedside read.
Urs as evr
da Brkn mn
I have been asked to comment on the use of text message language used to translate the Bible, or bits of the Bible; apparently something which the Ships of Fools guys have done. I have been asked to consider how the text speak translation compares to my translation of the Bible.
My observations are as follows:
The Bibles I use attempt to translate from the Hebrew and Greek text trying as best they can to convey the full meaning of the text in its original language while maintaining readability. This is a balancing act which is never completely satisfactorily achieved by any translation.
The “text” translate takes this translation, and attempts to reduce it to its most simplified reduced form in an attempt to be “cool” and communicate with young people. In doing so, they lose not just a little of the context and meaning, but reduce it to almost complete insignificance. Even if we were to believe, which I don’t, that this reduced message, this "Bible lite", was still of value if it connected with young people, we face a further difficulty; it *doesn’t* connect with young people.
Anyone who has ever actually asked young people what they think of this kind of thing will know the reactions are far from positive. In the same way that nothing is more embarrassing to a child than a parent who attempts to use “cool” phrases or dress in teenage clothes, the same is true of middle age people attempting to adopt “text” language. Each generation creates or reclaims certain phrases and ways of communication to distinguish them from the generations that have gone before, the desire is not that others adopt this method of communication; in fact, if people do it ruins the whole point.
On a positive front it has made me think about one phrase that is in current usage “Oh My God” shorted to “OMG” as an explitive in texts. I think that a youth discussion group called OMG would be a great reclaiming of the phrase! Beyond that I am afraid I find the whole thing rather cringe worthy.
There is a middle ground. "The Street Bible” or “word on the Street” (http://www.amazon.co.uk/Word-Street-Rob-Lacey/dp/0310932254) by Rob Lacey (of blessed memory) is fantastic. It does not claim to be “The Bible”, hence Rob Lacey renamed it from "The Street Bible" to "word on the street" to avoid confusion. It is the author's own retelling of the bible in a contempary manner. It was not written initially with the plan of publication and so was written as a meditation on the texts using the terms the author felt most comfortable with, not attempting to second guess what anyone else would find “cool”. It’s a book for reading, not studying, but at the same time by using contempory languge it brings to life the richness and meaning of much of the Bible texts, and is a book I have recommended to many people – young and old – as a bedside read.
Urs as evr
da Brkn mn
Thursday, 28 August 2008
Rules, Ligaments, and Books
Perfect Parent
As a perfect parent, with a perfectly behaved child I found a conversation I had with a friend who is at bible collage today particularly funny. He complained to me about all the restrictive rules they have in place and informed me that one of them was no alcohol on site at all. He told me that he is a bit rebellious and drinks occasionally in his room with his friend.
What he had failed to realise is that the collage has done a very good job of “putting a fence around the law”. If the collage doesn’t want people to get drunk and rowdy throwing wild parties at the collage, they could create a rule that says “don’t get drunk”. This is open to a whole range of interpretations and some people would break it. Instead they have made the rule, don’t drink at all. Some people still have their act of rebellion and have the odd drink feeling pleased with themselves that they are breaking the rules, but they don’t actually break the rule the collage is really worried about. By putting up a rule in front of the rule they are worried about they create “a fence” as it’s referred to in Judaism.
It is this same method I intend to apply with my child. The rules I will set in place will be more ridge and stricter than I care about, so that when my child rebels (I know its unlikely) they can do so without doing anything to terrible.
I note that there have been some sceptics out there, some, mentioning no names, have questioned whether I will in fact be a perfect father, and whether in fact I will have a perfect child (the wife has ruled out the purchase of a baby grow that says on it “cuter than baby Jesus”). Some people – and I hesitate to even say this – say that babies often just cry! For no reason! That no matter how much you point out to them that this is in appropriate behaviour that they do so anyway. This thought has begun to concern me a little I will admit..but I am taking a firm stand. Denial is clearly the way forward.
Syndrome thingy what’s it ligaments.
For those who are following this bit of the story – and have asked questions about how the long suffering wife is coping – painfully. Nothing much more I can say on the subject.
Books for my course
I have got the first few books for my course through (I got a book grant! Wooo hooo!) and I note that one of the books, the set books, compulsory reading, was written by the tutor…now that is a clever move! A cynic (So clearly not me) might say that this was a cunning way to increase your book sales, however I am sure that the tutors book is the very best one available on the subject, how could it be less?
Yours as ever,
The perfectly broken man.
As a perfect parent, with a perfectly behaved child I found a conversation I had with a friend who is at bible collage today particularly funny. He complained to me about all the restrictive rules they have in place and informed me that one of them was no alcohol on site at all. He told me that he is a bit rebellious and drinks occasionally in his room with his friend.
What he had failed to realise is that the collage has done a very good job of “putting a fence around the law”. If the collage doesn’t want people to get drunk and rowdy throwing wild parties at the collage, they could create a rule that says “don’t get drunk”. This is open to a whole range of interpretations and some people would break it. Instead they have made the rule, don’t drink at all. Some people still have their act of rebellion and have the odd drink feeling pleased with themselves that they are breaking the rules, but they don’t actually break the rule the collage is really worried about. By putting up a rule in front of the rule they are worried about they create “a fence” as it’s referred to in Judaism.
It is this same method I intend to apply with my child. The rules I will set in place will be more ridge and stricter than I care about, so that when my child rebels (I know its unlikely) they can do so without doing anything to terrible.
I note that there have been some sceptics out there, some, mentioning no names, have questioned whether I will in fact be a perfect father, and whether in fact I will have a perfect child (the wife has ruled out the purchase of a baby grow that says on it “cuter than baby Jesus”). Some people – and I hesitate to even say this – say that babies often just cry! For no reason! That no matter how much you point out to them that this is in appropriate behaviour that they do so anyway. This thought has begun to concern me a little I will admit..but I am taking a firm stand. Denial is clearly the way forward.
Syndrome thingy what’s it ligaments.
For those who are following this bit of the story – and have asked questions about how the long suffering wife is coping – painfully. Nothing much more I can say on the subject.
Books for my course
I have got the first few books for my course through (I got a book grant! Wooo hooo!) and I note that one of the books, the set books, compulsory reading, was written by the tutor…now that is a clever move! A cynic (So clearly not me) might say that this was a cunning way to increase your book sales, however I am sure that the tutors book is the very best one available on the subject, how could it be less?
Yours as ever,
The perfectly broken man.
Wednesday, 27 August 2008
Nappies, awards, comments and pain
NAPPIES
The hunt for a nappy system for a newborn is at last over …I am told by the long suffering wife that “we” have selected nappies for a newborn. "Fantastic", I thought, the power of delegation has worked wonders.
Dear friends…may I ask you…honestly now….is it just me or is the idea of a rainbow or polka-dot nappy rather disturbing? I realise I am a grumpy old man; that I am one built for complaining…but really…be fair…to see the full horror have a look at the web site: http://www.babykind.co.uk/wrapsredrap.htm
AWARDS
In other news...the very lovely Gill at http://mehimthem.blogspot.com has given me an Oscar! I am very touched, but deeply unsure of these award things. Don’t get me wrong, I love being given awards….they are fab. Being given a “kick arse” award was particuarly satisfying, but this whole "pass this onto 5 people, name the person who gave it to you" thing, makes me think that surely any award will eventually go to everyone on the net, it feels a little like a chain letter to me. It seems very rude to accept an award and not follow the instructions on it, but to refuse an award, well, that’s even ruder… So for the record…..."thank you, thank you, I would like to thank my wife, my agent, my publistist, everyone who made this possible, it’s a surprise, its wonderful to recive this recognition…but as I am camera shy, I must regretfully decline the opportunity to collect this award in person.
COMMENTS
Thank you everyone for your comments of late, and sorry I have been so bad at replying to them, I really will get on it! Sometimes I read a question I am asked and think... "oh come on, I have answered that, it's in the About Me section…READ IT." Uncharitable, I know. Sometimes I think, "I don’t want to talk about that right now…I did when I wrote about it (eg syndrome thingy) but right now I would just prefer not to." Other times I want to respond but don’t have time – I receive the email update telling me I have had a message, and telling me what someone has said on my work pc, but can not access the site till I get home to reply..other times I forget. Sure, sometimes I am just lazy and uncaring…but not always – and your comment – that one made me laugh, and touched me, and meant a lot to me. I do love recieving your comments, it flatters my ego, so please don’t stop – but don’t worry to much if I appear to be ignoring it..
That was a far longer explanation than I intended. To other things…
PAIN IN THE NECK
My back is not better. My neck hurts, as does my coccyx. I just rubbed my hand over my neck and heard a cracking sound. When I move my right arm it's like someone is setting fire crackers. On a positive note, I have had an update and it should be 5 weeks or so before I get to see a physio. I know I have gone on about this before but it makes me feel physically sick to just think about it, and I feel such a sense of blind panic that something is seriously wrong.
Sorry just needed to sit in the corner sobbing for a while, and there is no point in being in pain unless everyone else knows about it.
Yours as ever
The Broken Man
The hunt for a nappy system for a newborn is at last over …I am told by the long suffering wife that “we” have selected nappies for a newborn. "Fantastic", I thought, the power of delegation has worked wonders.
Dear friends…may I ask you…honestly now….is it just me or is the idea of a rainbow or polka-dot nappy rather disturbing? I realise I am a grumpy old man; that I am one built for complaining…but really…be fair…to see the full horror have a look at the web site: http://www.babykind.co.uk/wrapsredrap.htm
AWARDS
In other news...the very lovely Gill at http://mehimthem.blogspot.com has given me an Oscar! I am very touched, but deeply unsure of these award things. Don’t get me wrong, I love being given awards….they are fab. Being given a “kick arse” award was particuarly satisfying, but this whole "pass this onto 5 people, name the person who gave it to you" thing, makes me think that surely any award will eventually go to everyone on the net, it feels a little like a chain letter to me. It seems very rude to accept an award and not follow the instructions on it, but to refuse an award, well, that’s even ruder… So for the record…..."thank you, thank you, I would like to thank my wife, my agent, my publistist, everyone who made this possible, it’s a surprise, its wonderful to recive this recognition…but as I am camera shy, I must regretfully decline the opportunity to collect this award in person.
COMMENTS
Thank you everyone for your comments of late, and sorry I have been so bad at replying to them, I really will get on it! Sometimes I read a question I am asked and think... "oh come on, I have answered that, it's in the About Me section…READ IT." Uncharitable, I know. Sometimes I think, "I don’t want to talk about that right now…I did when I wrote about it (eg syndrome thingy) but right now I would just prefer not to." Other times I want to respond but don’t have time – I receive the email update telling me I have had a message, and telling me what someone has said on my work pc, but can not access the site till I get home to reply..other times I forget. Sure, sometimes I am just lazy and uncaring…but not always – and your comment – that one made me laugh, and touched me, and meant a lot to me. I do love recieving your comments, it flatters my ego, so please don’t stop – but don’t worry to much if I appear to be ignoring it..
That was a far longer explanation than I intended. To other things…
PAIN IN THE NECK
My back is not better. My neck hurts, as does my coccyx. I just rubbed my hand over my neck and heard a cracking sound. When I move my right arm it's like someone is setting fire crackers. On a positive note, I have had an update and it should be 5 weeks or so before I get to see a physio. I know I have gone on about this before but it makes me feel physically sick to just think about it, and I feel such a sense of blind panic that something is seriously wrong.
Sorry just needed to sit in the corner sobbing for a while, and there is no point in being in pain unless everyone else knows about it.
Yours as ever
The Broken Man
Tuesday, 19 August 2008
Frequently & Infrequently Asked Questions
There are some questions which I am asked on a fairly regular basis, and often the answers are buried in other posts. My apologies if you have been reading for some time and all ready know the information below, but I thought it would be worth doing a recap for those who are new here. I will put a link up to this post in the “about me” section so new people can find this post if they so desire! If there are other regular questions that come up I will add the answers to this post .
Why do you call yourself the Broken Man?
Depending on the day I have a different answer:
I am a Broken Man because of the experiences I have gone through. My parents divorced when I was 9, my father died when I was 16, my older brother died of a heroin overdoes, and I am on my second marriage. All of this has contributed, and much more beside.
I am the Broken Man, because I am broke; I owe, I owe, it's off to work I go.
I am the Broken man, because my body aches; I dropped a TV on my head and things haven't been right since.
I am a broken man because, to quote Morrissey, "the things I have seen could turn a good man bad". And I never was much of a good man.
I am a broken man because I suffer from depression. I have up days, and down days. On down days I want to drive my car into a brick wall and it feels like nothing will ever be okay.
I am the Broken Man, because I have spent a long time living in the dark – however – in the darkness I have found a light, a voice in the deafening silence, that calls to me, and a God who works through my brokenness, and holds the pieces together.
How did I find your blog?
When I am bored I start trawling through blogs, and it seems very rude to me to go into someone’s house without at least saying "hello". Hence, I left you a comment. I found you by putting key words into a blog search, or by following a comment you posted somewhere else, or by finding you on a blog roll of someone else, but I have a very bad memory and it is very unlikely I will now remember which route I took to your blog.
When is the baby due?
December. The wife and I are not too convinced about hospital predicted due dates – for first babies the studies we have looked at suggest that 42 weeks is more normal than 40, and when you tell people your due date they start asking lots of questions near the due date, like – "is it here yet?" So I prefer to just say “December”.
What branch of Christianity are you going to be a priest in?
I am training for ordination in the Church of England, which is an Anglican Church. I describe myself as a Christian (when I must), but rarely by denomination, as I tend to think denomination isn’t that important. Having said that, I like the way that theology is “done” in the Anglican church and hence this is where I am.
Why are you anonymous – how anonymous are you?
By being anonymous I feel I can say things I couldn’t if I wasn’t. For example – I can be rude about my church without offending anyone. I realise I am not incredibly anonymous and it would be very easy for someone with a burning desire to find out who I am to identify me, but I would prefer it this blog isn’t the first thing that someone finds if they put my name into Google.
How did you become a Christian?
This is a question I tend to avoid, as in honesty it’s a long and complex story, involving, much like the people of Israel in the Hebrew Bible account, following God for a while, and then falling away, before returning a little later. There is not a clear break where I can give you a date on which I became a Christian, rather there were many times when I made commitments which I then fell away from. The primary place that got me interested though was a youth discussion group which I attended with the express intention of disproving the existence of God. The thing that turned me off Christianity the most was those Christians who said that there were some things you shouldn’t ask questions about and just had to accept. The thing that impressed me the most was Christians who, no matter how much they disapproved of my life style, continued to care about me, and wanted me as their friend.
Where are you studying?
I am currently studying a Masters Degree in Jewish-Christian relations at the Wolfe Institute, Cambridge. My studies for ordination are taking the form of the first year of a degree course at a local theological collage, followed (probably) by a transfer to the Masters Degree in the second year of training. I am training part-time due to the financial constraints on me, but prefer not to name the place I am studying for Ordination with so that I am free to whine about the course if I want to!
Why do you call yourself the Broken Man?
Depending on the day I have a different answer:
I am a Broken Man because of the experiences I have gone through. My parents divorced when I was 9, my father died when I was 16, my older brother died of a heroin overdoes, and I am on my second marriage. All of this has contributed, and much more beside.
I am the Broken Man, because I am broke; I owe, I owe, it's off to work I go.
I am the Broken man, because my body aches; I dropped a TV on my head and things haven't been right since.
I am a broken man because, to quote Morrissey, "the things I have seen could turn a good man bad". And I never was much of a good man.
I am a broken man because I suffer from depression. I have up days, and down days. On down days I want to drive my car into a brick wall and it feels like nothing will ever be okay.
I am the Broken Man, because I have spent a long time living in the dark – however – in the darkness I have found a light, a voice in the deafening silence, that calls to me, and a God who works through my brokenness, and holds the pieces together.
How did I find your blog?
When I am bored I start trawling through blogs, and it seems very rude to me to go into someone’s house without at least saying "hello". Hence, I left you a comment. I found you by putting key words into a blog search, or by following a comment you posted somewhere else, or by finding you on a blog roll of someone else, but I have a very bad memory and it is very unlikely I will now remember which route I took to your blog.
When is the baby due?
December. The wife and I are not too convinced about hospital predicted due dates – for first babies the studies we have looked at suggest that 42 weeks is more normal than 40, and when you tell people your due date they start asking lots of questions near the due date, like – "is it here yet?" So I prefer to just say “December”.
What branch of Christianity are you going to be a priest in?
I am training for ordination in the Church of England, which is an Anglican Church. I describe myself as a Christian (when I must), but rarely by denomination, as I tend to think denomination isn’t that important. Having said that, I like the way that theology is “done” in the Anglican church and hence this is where I am.
Why are you anonymous – how anonymous are you?
By being anonymous I feel I can say things I couldn’t if I wasn’t. For example – I can be rude about my church without offending anyone. I realise I am not incredibly anonymous and it would be very easy for someone with a burning desire to find out who I am to identify me, but I would prefer it this blog isn’t the first thing that someone finds if they put my name into Google.
How did you become a Christian?
This is a question I tend to avoid, as in honesty it’s a long and complex story, involving, much like the people of Israel in the Hebrew Bible account, following God for a while, and then falling away, before returning a little later. There is not a clear break where I can give you a date on which I became a Christian, rather there were many times when I made commitments which I then fell away from. The primary place that got me interested though was a youth discussion group which I attended with the express intention of disproving the existence of God. The thing that turned me off Christianity the most was those Christians who said that there were some things you shouldn’t ask questions about and just had to accept. The thing that impressed me the most was Christians who, no matter how much they disapproved of my life style, continued to care about me, and wanted me as their friend.
Where are you studying?
I am currently studying a Masters Degree in Jewish-Christian relations at the Wolfe Institute, Cambridge. My studies for ordination are taking the form of the first year of a degree course at a local theological collage, followed (probably) by a transfer to the Masters Degree in the second year of training. I am training part-time due to the financial constraints on me, but prefer not to name the place I am studying for Ordination with so that I am free to whine about the course if I want to!
Thursday, 14 August 2008
Pain in the neck
About six months ago I dropped a TV on my head.
I realise that this sounds a little unlikely, so let me explain. I have a very big TV which a friend gave me, and which sits on a stand on wheels. To move this TV backwards, I got onto all fours and pushed the stand. In doing so, the TV toppled and fell on my head, neck and back. This resulted in me letting out, not a loud expletive, but rather, a whimper as I crumpled to the floor. I visited our small local hospital, which said that I needed an x-ray and should go to my doctor. I went to my doctor who said that they don’t like doing x-rays on necks; I should take some pain killers and see how it got on. I was in so much pain that I was off work for a few weeks. I then went back to the doctor who said "yes, it would still hurt. Give it time and it would be fine." That was, as I say, six months ago.
My neck still hurts. Rather a lot, really. A constant pain which results in me taking pain killers most days. Feeling that six months is long enough to wait, I booked up another appointment with the doctor, and was whinging at my long-suffering wife about the incompetence of the original doctors for not having X-rayed me, and that if it was broken and has fused wrongly now there will be nothing we can do about it. My wife replied, “that’s what’s compensation is for – if it was damaged and they didn’t pick up on it you would get compensation and you could get it fixed privately.”
I am not a fan of the compensation culture at all. However, when confronted with the possibility of money, it got me thinking. If I suddenly had a compensation pay out (and, no, I won't get one as I wouldn’t pursue it and am not a fan of such things) would I spend it on an operation or getting myself out of debt so I can be a vicar? For me, its no contest. I would happily live with the pain. Okay, okay, I know that’s not the choice I have in front of me, but in going through that bit of mental/physical arithmetic, the pain in my neck doesn’t seem like such a big deal after all – I have far better things to panic about.
So I arrived at the Doctors last night to be told they still don’t think an x-ray is needed and that what I need to do is to see a physiotherapist. There is, however, a very long waiting list. This is one of the things we have come to accept with the NHS, and we don’t tend to worry about a bit of a wait. The reason that on *this* occasion it is so frustrating, is that my company provides health insurance. The health insurance provides private cover for any treatment you need to wait more than 6 weeks for. "Well, brilliant", I hear you cry..."you just phone up the company insurance and its all sorted"... well, no. You see, while the health insurance is provided as a work benefit, the government looks at this and says, "right, we'd better charge you some tax on this", and so by having the company insurance you pay an extra £50 tax a year. In an attempt to sort out the finance last month, I went through everything we spend with a fine tooth comb, and cancelled my health insurance so that I would save that £50.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Yours, very probably (but with out X-rays we can’t be sure)
The Broken Man
I realise that this sounds a little unlikely, so let me explain. I have a very big TV which a friend gave me, and which sits on a stand on wheels. To move this TV backwards, I got onto all fours and pushed the stand. In doing so, the TV toppled and fell on my head, neck and back. This resulted in me letting out, not a loud expletive, but rather, a whimper as I crumpled to the floor. I visited our small local hospital, which said that I needed an x-ray and should go to my doctor. I went to my doctor who said that they don’t like doing x-rays on necks; I should take some pain killers and see how it got on. I was in so much pain that I was off work for a few weeks. I then went back to the doctor who said "yes, it would still hurt. Give it time and it would be fine." That was, as I say, six months ago.
My neck still hurts. Rather a lot, really. A constant pain which results in me taking pain killers most days. Feeling that six months is long enough to wait, I booked up another appointment with the doctor, and was whinging at my long-suffering wife about the incompetence of the original doctors for not having X-rayed me, and that if it was broken and has fused wrongly now there will be nothing we can do about it. My wife replied, “that’s what’s compensation is for – if it was damaged and they didn’t pick up on it you would get compensation and you could get it fixed privately.”
I am not a fan of the compensation culture at all. However, when confronted with the possibility of money, it got me thinking. If I suddenly had a compensation pay out (and, no, I won't get one as I wouldn’t pursue it and am not a fan of such things) would I spend it on an operation or getting myself out of debt so I can be a vicar? For me, its no contest. I would happily live with the pain. Okay, okay, I know that’s not the choice I have in front of me, but in going through that bit of mental/physical arithmetic, the pain in my neck doesn’t seem like such a big deal after all – I have far better things to panic about.
So I arrived at the Doctors last night to be told they still don’t think an x-ray is needed and that what I need to do is to see a physiotherapist. There is, however, a very long waiting list. This is one of the things we have come to accept with the NHS, and we don’t tend to worry about a bit of a wait. The reason that on *this* occasion it is so frustrating, is that my company provides health insurance. The health insurance provides private cover for any treatment you need to wait more than 6 weeks for. "Well, brilliant", I hear you cry..."you just phone up the company insurance and its all sorted"... well, no. You see, while the health insurance is provided as a work benefit, the government looks at this and says, "right, we'd better charge you some tax on this", and so by having the company insurance you pay an extra £50 tax a year. In an attempt to sort out the finance last month, I went through everything we spend with a fine tooth comb, and cancelled my health insurance so that I would save that £50.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Yours, very probably (but with out X-rays we can’t be sure)
The Broken Man
Friday, 8 August 2008
Wallowing......
I am really struggling today. The car insurance came up for renewal last week and, while I was sitting typing away at the computer, my long-suffering wife asked me whether it needed to go on direct debit to be paid monthly, or whether it could be paid for in a lump sum. Without thinking about it – or rather, not wanting to have the conversation at that moment in time, I said “whatever is easiest, just pay it” or words to that effect.
My wife duly paid the car insurance, and thought no more of it.
She then went to buy food and discovered there is no money in the account. Don’t fear, dear reader, I still have a credit card which has a little space on it so we won't starve but the situation is fairly black.
As regular readers will know, we are trying to sell our flat – let me clarify this situation somewhat. Six or seven weeks ago the estate agent came around and we were all ready to put the flat on the market, but my lovely mother said that really the flat would look better if it had some carpets in it (we do have *some* carpets, but some areas (eg the stairs) the carpets were in such a bad state that we had to pull them up, after falling down the stairs. Twice.
So, anyway, my mum kindly offered to pay for the carpet and the fitting, and told us to put off selling till the new carpet had been fitted. Six weeks later and the person fitting it is still messing us about as to when it's going to happen. Six weeks with a falling housing market means that this may well have knocked another £2000 of the value of our flat, which had already gone into negative equity anyway. I know it's not a good time to sell, but we realised that our fixed rate mortgage runs out soon, and we can't afford for our rate to rise. We also had a letter today from the mortgage company telling us that from October, we would have to pay £125 more each month on our mortgage. That gives us less than two months to sell our flat before we get into *serious* trouble.
I really am feeling rather panicked. I know we won't starve; I know it won't come to that, but I can't see an end to the debt and I really just want to cry. I am trying desperately to “look on the bright side” but today...its just not working. Sorry to moan; I know its most unbecoming and that I should just be trusting that it will all work out but, in honesty, right now, it doesn’t feel like it will.
Yours as ever,
The Broken Man.
My wife duly paid the car insurance, and thought no more of it.
She then went to buy food and discovered there is no money in the account. Don’t fear, dear reader, I still have a credit card which has a little space on it so we won't starve but the situation is fairly black.
As regular readers will know, we are trying to sell our flat – let me clarify this situation somewhat. Six or seven weeks ago the estate agent came around and we were all ready to put the flat on the market, but my lovely mother said that really the flat would look better if it had some carpets in it (we do have *some* carpets, but some areas (eg the stairs) the carpets were in such a bad state that we had to pull them up, after falling down the stairs. Twice.
So, anyway, my mum kindly offered to pay for the carpet and the fitting, and told us to put off selling till the new carpet had been fitted. Six weeks later and the person fitting it is still messing us about as to when it's going to happen. Six weeks with a falling housing market means that this may well have knocked another £2000 of the value of our flat, which had already gone into negative equity anyway. I know it's not a good time to sell, but we realised that our fixed rate mortgage runs out soon, and we can't afford for our rate to rise. We also had a letter today from the mortgage company telling us that from October, we would have to pay £125 more each month on our mortgage. That gives us less than two months to sell our flat before we get into *serious* trouble.
I really am feeling rather panicked. I know we won't starve; I know it won't come to that, but I can't see an end to the debt and I really just want to cry. I am trying desperately to “look on the bright side” but today...its just not working. Sorry to moan; I know its most unbecoming and that I should just be trusting that it will all work out but, in honesty, right now, it doesn’t feel like it will.
Yours as ever,
The Broken Man.
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