Met With A Gallic Shrug

Met With A Gallic Shrug

Met with a Gallic Shrug

As you get older it is more of a rarity to catch up with old friends. There are three reasons for this – and I say this as the world’s greatest authority on catching up with old friends. 

Firstly, it is quite the norm to have more obligations as you get older – kids, a job and a mortgage for starters, so to drop everything and have a good old catch up is much more difficult than when you are young and carefree. I’d miss those days if only I could remember back that far! Being honest here I can actually remember most of the 51 years I have been on this planet, and I often freak people out with how much detail I can remember. This is good and bad when you are bipolar. Good in the sense that you can always remember the good times, so when you are down you can remember what it is to be up. On the down side, you can remember most of the shit you have got up to over the years, and when your natural state of mind is to be the most conscientious, honest and good-willed person on the planet (blowing my own trumpet) this can sometimes just be a little bit of an issue. Well a big issue. A great big fucking mountain of an issue. But hey, ho – that’s what this blog is all about – climbing that mountain and reaching my summit. Shit, got distracted. On to number two.

Secondly, as you progress through life it is common to move to other places, or for people to move away from you. If you have noticed an abundance of the latter then maybe people don’t like you. Or you have a hygiene problem. There’s a chicken or the egg question here – if you smell a little (go on have a sniff) then have a shower and see if friends start hanging around with you again. If you don’t smell, then maybe you are an arsehole after all. Given all the moving away shit, a geographical problem is therefore presented with catching up: you are simply further away from each other. You might be able to afford to travel these days but you don’t have the time. I mean I’m not assuming the opposite, that if you do have the time then you don’t have any money. You might have both the time and the money but are really, really busy. I’m just digging a hole on this one so I’ll give up as I’ve no idea where I’m going. Move on to number three. 

And thirdly. Ah. Oh shit. Until you are older you cannot by definition have old friends. To be honest that kind of trumps everything I’ve just said above. If you are young and move away from your friends, when you catch up you are just catching up with friends. Unless of course your friends are indeed old. That is more just catching up with old people, or as I like to call it – care for the elderly. I’ve kind of blown it as the world’s greatest authority haven’t I.

Getting back to where I was before I wrote the first sentence, I caught up with an old friend on Saturday 21st May. I know the exact date not because of my amazing memory, but because it was the same day as Rock The Moor in Cookham and I Googled what date that was on this year. I was at Rock The Moor with three other friends, but popped into the Crown to meet up with my old mate James along with my other old mate Richard. Although it was a catch up crammed into thirty minutes, it was genuinely a lovely thirty minutes. The thing James said that stuck, was that no one was really surprised I was bipolar. Everyone had met the news (bigging the diagnosis up a little) with a Gallic shrug. This has got me thinking again about whether or not I’d press the magic button that would take all the bipolar away, and I’ve changed my mind. Previously I have stated that I’d love not to have lived with bipolar, but I don’t think that is really the case. For all I know I could have turned out to be a complete arsehole had it not been for my condition. Overall – massive mood and energy swings aside – I’ve not actually lived that bad a life and have a wonderful family and great friends. So my condition is what it is. I am where I am, and I’ll keep on being the person I’ve always been; just hopefully with a lower manic count than I’ve had in recent years. That shit isn’t cool and isn’t very nice to live with so it can fuck off.

Scully

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