Went to a club night in Manchester last night.

Still having mad anxiety. I turned up on my own, hugely overdressed, and tried not to be awkward. Some guy asked me if I was a narc. AD was there, who is now single and still gorgeous. Couple of years older than me but doesn’t look it at all. Chatted for a bit but got nowhere. Same with a couple of others. House music nights are rarely pulling nights, but when I do pull, the girl is usually tapped usually tapped.

As for AD, that boat probably sailed the last time she was single when I didn’t make my move then either. 2012, if I recall.

Best mate SW couldn’t make the club night, but my mate PT and his girlfriend CVB could. Great to catch up with them, and see some amazing music and singers. My anxiety was through the roof, though. Felt like all the prior-lockdown therapy I’d got from the NHS went out the window.

Still, a good night.

My time at the support group is coming to an end.

For years now I’ve been part of a support group for men. It’s been brilliant for me: I’ve developed more confidence, I’ve shared trauma, I’ve put things behind me and I’ve moved on from my past. But I feel now that it’s time to, also, move on from this group.

I’ve mentioned in past posts about my dealings with DK, the older, awkward, clueless guy who talks way too much and has no clue when he’s overstepping his boundaries. I’ve mentioned how I’ve discussed him a few times in the support group itself, without identifying him, only for RH, another group member, to figure out who I was talking about and go and gossip to him. That left me feeling like it was time to move on, and that was months ago, November.

I’m still giving lifts to DK and RH, and as the months have gone on, I’ve felt a growing resentment towards both of them. I’m sick of their shit. I’m tired of how excruciatingly boring they are. I’m tired of the sniping comments and the sharing outside the group what has been said inside it, a breach of the rules. I’m tired of DK trying to take liberties, something he’s been doing for years now. He asked me for a ‘huge favour’ a few weeks ago: to drive him and his mrs to Wales. I flat out said no. It’s just a question, he protested. It’s a fucking cheeky question, I told him.

You may be aware that, at the start of the pandemic, Wetherspoons boss Tim Martin binned off his staff and told them to ‘go and work in Tesco.’ What a fucking bellend. He also said there was ‘no evidence’ that COVID was spread in pubs. He was wrong.

I vowed, at that point never to set foot in a Wetherspoons again. I knew that, years later, this would be a sticking point with some people. I didn’t realise how many though.

After the session, we normally gather in a small pub out near Shambles Square. It’s a peaceful, fair-priced place where we can talk. The rest of the group know damn well I won’t go to Wetherspoons, but… This week, that’s where they went. 3 of us went to the Shambles pub to wait for them. Eventually DK messaged me saying they were in Spoons. I called him a traitor and explained the other people were coming to meet him. I walked back to Spoons, told him I was over the road, waited 5 minutes, then told him I was going to the car. They met me at the car.

I was so tempted to fuck off and leave them there, just to teach them a lesson. I’m going to have to share this in the group, and explain to them I’m thinking of leaving. It’ll be interesting, as it will mean DK and RH will be on public transport.

DK messaged me today asking what I was up to. I was busy. I expected him to ask for a favour again, but he was just asking.

There’s another organisation that does a similar thing online, via webcam, and I tried it once during the pandemic. It’s very similar, and with people from across the UK slotted at random into chatrooms. The benefit is, you’re unlikely to meet any of these people face-to-face, so you’re unlikely to have any contact with them outside of the group, unless social media becomes an issue. I might swap for this. Saves me the travel, and the drama.

After a few weeks of only speaking to DK on support group days…

…He’s now asking me for nights out and what I’m up to, and how was the restaurant that he’s seen on social media that I was at. Very lonely guy, despite living with his wife, clinging onto whoever will be mates with him, regardless of what little he has in common with them.

Conversation on Mondays revolves around what I’m having for tea, which is starting to grate in itself.

I mentioned in November that someone had told him I’d discussed his nagging phone calls in the support group. I’m pretty confident it was RH. He’s gay, and gay people can be gossips. Not exclusively, as I’ve found straight guys to be total bitches in this way. But RH is the type. Another member, RD, doesn’t like RH or DK, but we get on pretty well. We should do drinks. I’ve thrown it out to DP as well, but we’ve never done anything. I’m wondering if DP and RD think I’m too old. I think they’re both in their 20s. I’m in my 40s now. And I’m consumed with guilt that I never overcame my problems. But yeah, DK is annoying.

And I’m meeting him again tomorrow night.

Clusterfuck of an evening

Girl mate EB offered to get me on the guestlist for an event last night- I said I’d drop in. I found the venue a little late, though, so asked via facebook about an afterparty in a new club in town. The plan was to drop into that. She didn’t respond though, so what did I do? I got into town, waited for the event to finish (so from around 10 pm to 1am), watched as they all left the Spinningfields venue, and followed EB and a few friends to their car off Quay Street. They drove to the club. I walked some way behind them- the traffic was so bad I eventually overtook them- and met them outside the club.

I realise how bad this sounds.

Emmerald seemed a bit stunned to see me, and conversation was a little jilted. Her body language suggested she was trying to keep me out of the group; talking huddled with her mates with their backs turned to me etc. She skipped the queue and got into the club (she has a weird knack of blagging things) but left me outside. I contemplated queuing up myself but the awkward levels would have gone through the roof had I got in.

She told me about the event- I didn’t know anything about it until then. But then on the night, she gave me the cold shoulder. Weird. I’ve unsubscribed form her on Facebook but will leave her in my friends.

I met up with SF and apologised again.

She accepted the apology, but laid it on thick that, 10 years ago, her 30^th was a dreadful night, and that she wanted to do something special for her friends (pay for a booth in an expensive club) for her 40^th. My eponymous blog post, which she read, had tainted the experience.

But whatever. It’s done with. What I didn’t explain- it wouldn’t have done any good- is that my friends, and the NHS, have repeatedly told me that I worry too much about what other people think. The reason I worry is, I’m afraid of people falling out with me. It seems that concern is valid. I won’t think through what the consequences of my actions will be, so I’ll either do it and deal with the consequences, or not do anything at all. The latter of these is the root cause of my depression and porn addiction. Worrying too much.

We were out at a club, which had a handful of fit birds in whom, of course, I did not speak to. I have more nights out planned. We’ll see what happens.

I seemingly cannot be a grown up.

As mentioned last week there was a minor fallout over what I’d written on my eponymous blog. A night out was planned for last night, but at the start of the week I realised it clashed with a wedding, so I cancelled it. One friend, RS, asked about the night out of concern.

I’ve got something planned for this Saturday night with the support group, so that’s out.

I did have 3 weeks of work experience lined up, but my employer wasn’t very forward in coming forward, so to speak, so I couldn’t tell if the leave I’d booked had been approved. When I eventually chased it up, it seemed it was, so I went back to the company providing the placement. That placement had already been filled whilst my employer was fucking about, so I’ve now got three weeks of no work. Well, I thought, the positive is I can get some decorating done.

Of course, with the kind of mental problems I have, I need parental assistance with this. But my parents are away AGAIN during the time I’m supposed to be on leave, so I might as well cancel it the next time I’m in work. 90% of this house was decorated in one big push, but for the last 3 months hardly anything has been done because my parents keep gallivanting across the country all the time.

But I don’t wish to sound entitled. FFS.

Oh, it’s all gone off this week.

 

On my eponymous blog I described going to the pretentious club and getting a table, which was paid for by SF, whose birthday we were celebrating. Much like on here, I slated it. SF, of course, saw the blog post. So did some attendees. I was mercilessly bollocked. I tried to explain that it was the service that I was complaining about, and that what SF was getting for her money wasn’t great. But it obviously hadn’t come across that way. So my friendship with SF, which has been rocky for some years I feel, is now more so. We’ve agreed to put this incident behind us.

I’m out at the weekend with SF and a few others, so it will be interesting to see how things go. I’ve apologised already- I may need to do again.

I may also need to try new ways of meeting people, different to the cavalcade of ways I’ve already tried.

Had a wobble this weekend.

 

Was out all Saturday. Drank too much. Ended in Theatre Impossible, a place I’ve frankly had enough of. Full of beautiful women but I never feel right about talking to any of them. It’s another overpriced, pretentious club playing shit hip hop that I can’t be arsed with. I don’t think I’ll ever meet anyone there.

The opportunities were there in abundance, though- women outnumbered men. My friends were encouraging me, but I couldn’t do it. I think too much alcohol may have been a factor. I gave up and went home eventually, crawling in to bed in tears. I started out with so much confidence, and ended so void of it.

I probably should have just gone out at night and driven. What else can you do?

Well, you can book a doctors appointment. My surgery’s next appointment was in August, on a day when I’m in work. I work part time, so I picked it for an off day: the 19^th. 6 weeks away. And what’s he going to tell me? I’ve already been in therapy 4 times. I’ve already tried 3 type of medication, the latest of which I’ve doubled my dose.

Part of me wants to go teetotal- it’s not appropriate for someone of my condition to be drinking a lot. It just leads to problems. Part of me knows, though, that I’ve been trying this since I was 18. Alcohol is part of socialising. It’s a ballache not to. But I do drive a lot on nights out, skipping alcohol entirely.

Very little has happened over the last few weekends due to everyone being broke. Going to try other things to stay social- different groups and activities.

Went out for drinks with MMM.

We dropped into Anthologist at St Peter’s Square, where we caught up on things. We hadn’t seen each other in months- 8 in fact– and had some nice cocktails. Conversation was going good. But towards the end of the night I pushed the boat out and asked her how she felt.

She thought we were just meeting as friends.

No, I said, I am not up for that. I haven’t got time and I’ve got enough friends. This was a date, and you didn’t even register it. If you weren’t interested you shouldn’t have agreed to meet.

She is interested, she reckons, but she’s not ready for a relationship. Then she accused me of trying to shag her. And then she said she had no money for a taxi. So I gave her a tenner.

I should have known last time, after she mugged me off for any guy that wanted to crack onto her, that she wasn’t worth the effort. My mates didn’t like her, so that should have told me everything I wanted to know. She wants me to give her my bank details so she can BACS the money back to me, but I’d rather not be petty. So right now we aren’t talking at all.

I’ve said this before on here: trust your instincts.

Things did not go well for JG

 

I mentioned that my mate was trying to see his kid. He’s been in touch to say court didn’t go to plan, that he has no way of making money and he’s finding it hard to stay positive and see life as worth living.

I’ve got problems of my own. I can’t keep chasing him trying to lift him up, when I’m not getting anywhere myself. I’ve not got it in me. He won’t come to the support group, although member have tried to reach out to him.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to sort my own head out, going to events in Manchester, some pretentious wanky ones, some chilled Northern Quarter ones, but nobody seems to be interested. Plus upskirting has officially been made illegal, and my phone camera is being a twat. That said, I managed to get this shot.

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