XIV | I didn't hear no bell?

 I didn't hear no bell?

28/12/23

Time flies doesn't it? More than a year-and-a-half here in the UK now. Hasn't always been sunshine and rainbows over that course of time. It took a while for them to start showing in 2023 - but they're out a lot these days. I'm happy with where I'm at and I'm excited for the future.

I'm going to talk about the events that occurred from towards the end of May and onwards. Needless to say that the first half of my 2023 was shit! But the second half has been pretty good. I feel like a broken record bringing up my concussions so often but that was a big part of my year unfortunately. I plan on this being the last time I talk about it. Much better things have happened since that chapter of my life.

My concussion issues lasted for the better part of the first six months of 2023. I had weird memory and concentration issues, I couldn't go for a little walk without the head feeling woozy, I couldn't read or play video games without the head pounding, and I couldn't work a job for nearly all of that time. To make things worse, the benefit payments that covered my absence from my job were absolutely pathetic. An 8 year-old doing a paper-run would probably have earned more than me at that point in time! So I basically had to live off what very little savings I had left. I was living by myself for a lot of this time too, where I'm not sure if that helped or not. Despite the uncertainty surrounding my condition, I felt fairly level headed and optimistic about it all for a while. Frustrated, greatly frustrated - but optimistic. Ironically the mental health started to crumble a bit just as I was finally getting better. By that point I had a gutful of everything that happened with those past six months. I was happy to be feeling normal again, but at the same time I really wasn't excited about what I was getting back to in life. I was going back to a job I hated, like really hated. I was only at it for two weeks or so before I got concussed. It was a very strict desk job where I was working from home. I quickly found that sitting down and staring at a computer for that long really wasn't for me. I wouldn't have minded as much had I not just been housebound for the last six months! I knew I was done with rugby, and hadn't really even made good friends from that club anyway. I do blame myself for much of that though. I didn't make a huge amount of effort in getting to know anyone properly, plus a lot of those guys seemed quite clique-y and grew up with each other which was kind of intimidating. I was at a point where I felt like my options were extremely limited to make changes for myself too. I really didn't want to be in Devon anymore. I concluded long before then that I didn't want to stay in Devon long-term. Before the concussion my plan was to save a bit of money then look for somewhere else. It just never truly felt right to me, settling down there. Whenever I don't like my situation I never hesitate to move on, but this time was different. Heck, it's not even that I didn't like it there. I do like Devon, as I've said in the past. It's just that I felt like I wasn't meant to be there anymore, that's all. Looking at the wallet - it was either stay there or go back to New Zealand. Truth be told, I didn't really fancy either of those options. But I was at a point where I had to do something.

There was a point where I was extremely close to going back to New Zealand though. I'm not even joking, the flights were selected for the middle of June and all I had to do was process the payment. Earlier in that week I travelled to Hampshire and Surrey where I caught up with friends and family. I spent a couple of nights staying at Will's place in Portsmouth. I brought up to Will that I was thinking of moving back to New Zealand, and it was good to talk to someone like him about it. Will himself is a kiwi too, and has lived in the UK for roughly four years. Being in the Navy, he understands to an even greater level of all the sacrifices that are made in living far away from home. I'm not sure if he actually said this or not, we were pretty steamed thanks to the beers in Portsmouth town. But I remember him saying something along the lines of "New Zealand is great, but out there it's just New Zealand. Here, there's just so much more to do and see." I remember this almost being a wake-up call because that's entirely the reason why I came to live out in the UK in the first place. I couldn't believe that I wanted to leave this place behind, even if the plan involved coming back. I spoke to other friends about it and they more or less all said the same thing. "Do what you think is right, but what if you don't end up coming back to do this again?". I was determined to come back after building myself back up in New Zealand, but they were right. Who knows what kind of play would affect my plan? Unfortunately even after these discussions I was still looking at going back to NZ. I was convinced I was going back until Karen threw a spanner in the works after I told her about my thoughts. She already had a hunch that I was likely thinking of bailing on the UK seeing how shit my 2023 was by that point. She offered me to stay with her and her family and give this UK chapter one more crack. I told her I was grateful but would think about it, mostly because I felt guilty after they helped me out a lot when I first arrived in the country. I knew it would take some time before I would be able to move on from their place too.

Once I got back to Devon, I went straight to my computer to look at flights back to New Zealand. I worked myself up a lot towards going back, I pictured my friends and family and how nice it would be to see them all again. Though there was always this nagging feeling that this wasn't the right thing to do. I was thinking irrationally and I knew it. Especially now knowing that Karen has offered me a place to crash at and start-over. I knew that I would enjoy New Zealand for five minutes after I caught up with everyone, then be fucked off that I moved back after only a year away from it. A year that while it started off nicely, was mostly hindered by unfortunate events. What about those cringey-ass blog posts I made about wanting to come back to New Zealand one day far better than when I left it? This was not the way I ever pictured coming home. Heck, at that point I thought that I was probably worse off than when I had left it! I selected the flights for middle of June, but never made it past the payment section. I decided that I had to take this chance that Karen had offered me, if that didn't work out then I'd go home.

Sometimes you just have to think fuck it, and see where things go. Fuck its don't always work out for the best, some fuck its suck. Some fuck its lead to pain. Some fuck its lead to glory. But if a fuck it excites you, then you better start looking at that road and say fuck it I'm going to walk down that road.

Fast forward to six months later and I feel like a different person now. I lived at Karen's for nearly four months before moving in to a flat three months ago. In my first week of living in Alton, I had 7 job interviews, got offered 3 of them, and started working the one I picked shortly after I accepted the role. This felt mental considering how much I struggled to get a sustainable job back in Devon. I now work in a workshop outside of Alton where we fabricate poles for marquees, amongst other things. Not exactly a dream job, but it does for now while I build myself back up from scratch. I work with a bloke called Joe, who I quickly became good mates with. Joe's a funny type of cat. One minute I think he's a miserable git, then the next I think he's the kindest dude you could meet. Doesn't stop me from throwing off-cuts at him though. Not long after we started working together I started joining Joe on his Friday nights at the Railway Arms pub, where we'd usually have a few too many beverages. This became a regular occurrence until recently, where I decided to tone it down a little bit. He's a good mate, must be to put up with me telling people that he's either my lover or my father at the bar. Bearing in mind that we are both straight and that he's only five years older than me.

It's quite challenging making new friends as an adult. Especially when you aren't in any club or school of some kind. I didn't want Joe to be my only friend in Alton, so I had to get a little uncomfortable the odd time. To be fair, I wouldn't even call it getting uncomfortable, it's just doing what you have to do. When Joe was going to be late to the pub, I would go down an hour or two earlier and just chat shit with the girls who work at the bar in the Railway Arms. Doing so made me more of a regular and I started to get to know quite a few other regulars by hanging out at the bar. The Rugby World Cup 2023 being on the television benefitted me greatly, as being the only kiwi around made me stand out more in conversation. I can talk about rugby all day, no chance of a conversation drying up with rugby as a topic. To my surprise there were a few South African regulars amongst the English, which both became cool and painful for me. Both the poms and the saffas generally respect New Zealand as a rugby nation, but the poms especially aren't afraid to throw a shot at me. When South Africa beat the All Blacks in the World Cup final, it wasn't the saffas that were giving me stick. They were respectful and great winners, it was the bloody poms! "Yeah but you fuckers came third!" I remember telling Chunk. To which he replied "Yes, but at least we didn't lose in the final!". Fair play mate, fair bloody play. I still get a comment about that final every now and then from the odd person. The Railway Arms has been good for me and getting to know people. I've even made mates at the gym I go to as well. Half the time I only work out for 45 minutes before talking shit to Fraser or Sol. Both of whom are brothers who work at the gyms reception. I usually talk to them for longer than I work out. Fraser and I actually had Nando's and watched Napoleon at the cinemas in Basingstoke the other week. Couldn't remember the last time I'd done something like that and wasn't on my own. I've met people through Fraser as well where I hope to build more friendships from there.

Besides pubbing and working I've been pretty hell bent on becoming a disciplined hybrid athlete. I quite often bike to work and back, usually followed by going to the gym or going for a run when I come home. After all that concussion bullshit earlier in the year, I've been determined to take my body and mind to great heights after feeling so low for so long. I'm arguably the fittest and strongest I've ever been right now. Not only that but I want to challenge myself more and strengthen what I believe is still such a weak mind. I genuinely believe that by doing things that you hate, you're going to feel great afterwards. Obviously this doesn't apply to everything in life, but you'll know what kind of hates that you'll benefit from. For example, I fucking HATE cycling to work. I use to think that I'd eventually enjoy it, but for whatever reason I still hate it and I accept that likely always will. But because I do what I hate first thing in the morning, I'm the guy with the best mood at the workshop. It also trains me in to thinking that I can do what I hate more often. I used to hate thinking that I need to go for a run or gym straight after cycling home from work in the pitch black night. But, I never think twice about it now. I told myself that this is the type of fucker that I am now, and that fucker won't rest unless he knows he needs it and will benefit from it. Along with doing more of what I hate, I also want to conquer insignificant fears that I possess. This is going to sound absurd although maybe not to some of you, but I've always had this "phobia" if you will, towards cooking things like chicken. I used to be so anxious that I would never dream of cooking them. It wasn't until recently where I thought, you know what? I'm tired of fearing something that's so fucking dumb. So what did I do? I started cooking chicken every week as part of my meal preparations. I was anxious as hell to begin with. I would heavily analyse the state of the chicken after it'd already been in the oven for more than long enough, it unnecessarily dragged things out a lot. Now? I don't even think to look at the state of the food after it's been in the oven, because I know it's done. If something obviously looks off, chuck it back in - pretty simple. I know this sounds silly, but everyone must have something small like this that they fear and think WHY?! Right? I mean, I ain't scared of bugs but I know plenty of other people who are! I just got tired of avoiding this fear because I actually do enjoy eating chicken! Interesting thing to talk about, I know.

I posted a video across my social media accounts recently where I announced my entry in the Brighton Marathon 2024, which takes place on 7th April. I will be fundraising for a charity called Mind, a mental health charity. Needless to say, it was a fuck it moment. I made a video because I wanted to get my why across. Because to me, it is a strong why - and I wanted to get the message across from me directly. I said that I was doing it for myself to begin with. I missed out on a lot of opportunities throughout my life because I lacked confidence and belief in myself. Particularly sporting ones, even when I got given those opportunities I never felt that I belonged. I remember when I made a Waikato Under 15's cricket squad when I was only 13 years-old. I thought I didn't compare to everyone else there, and felt out of place. Didn't help that I was terribly shy too. That same kid failed to recognise that he was actually one of the best bowlers in that team, if not the best one. Granted, he was probably the worst batsman no thanks to his terrible eye sight and poor decision making, but still! I gave up on that team after a couple of games, and it's shit like that that really bothers me to this day. I know I was just a kid, but that kid eventually grew up and quit many more things so effortlessly as an adult - just like he did back then. He opted for the easy with no rewards life over the hard with rewards one. So yes, I'm partially doing this marathon for myself, a guy who's quit most things he's ever done and hated himself for it. But he knows he's going to work hard and fucking smash this challenge. What also prompted me to sign up for this challenge is how I feel about mental health in general. It was quite bizarre really. I just had this out-of-the-blue idea where I really wanted to help those who are suffering mentally somehow. It's strange... the ones that I think about for why I'm doing this, are the ones I know where nothing will ever help them. Some traumas just can't be undone. I think it's very easy to say that there's always a light at the end of the tunnel, in terms of speaking towards people who are struggling mentally. I myself use to believe that this phrase could be used for anything - it's another way of saying that with time there is hope. It's a good saying and often times it is relevant to many situations. But it wasn't until recently where I realised, just not all situations. Some places are just too dark to even pretend that there's a flicker of light somewhere in there. Some people just have to go and live in that darkness sometimes, and hope like fuck they don't get dragged too far down in that hell they experienced.

I think there's definitely levels to mental health issues - probably controversial to talk about. But I think it's fair to say that some issues can be conquered, and some issues are there to stay. Needless to say, no matter what that level is, it shouldn't be a fucking obstacle course to get help if you think you're struggling. I want to run and raise money for Mind in the hopes that any donation they receive through me truly makes a difference to the mental health awareness world. I think there's this awareness among people today where mental health issues are very real and more common than you'd think, so aware that it's probably much easier to slap a "depression" label on yourself because of any slight inconvenience in life like spilling coffee on yourself in the morning. Jokes aside, while there's that awareness where mental health issues among people are very real - the standard towards receiving help for it still isn't acceptable. Something has to change, and if a numpty like me has to help make that change then so be it.

This year turned out alright in the end. It taught me a lot about the world and myself. In retrospect it was a year full of challenges. It tested my mind, it tested my body, and it tested my patience. If I had to go through those challenging times throughout the year to get to where I'm at now then I don't regret a thing. I could think "fuck the head knocks and the empty wallet!" but I gain nothing from thinking like that, although at times it's very easy to think like that when you start dreaming for more. I'm ending 2023 on a fairly high note, and for that I'm grateful considering how this year began. I'm still figuring out what I want from life, I think life will always be like that, but it's all the possibilities that are about that make life exciting. I don't want to say what I'm planning, because truth is I still don't really know yet. Do I stay in Alton? Do I go work on a farm in Scotland? Do I join an army force? No idea at this point. But I know that 2024 will be a year full of challenges once again, different kinds of challenges, GOOD challenges (who am I kidding, probably the odd shit one too). It's a year where I will inevitably be more, see more, and do more.

Gowers Journey is only just beginning.

*

Thank you Karen, Brad, Nathan, Sophie, Spike, Bobbie, Paddy, and Minnie for getting me back on that horse. You have no idea how grateful I am.