Stewart Bint's Blog

Up The Stairs I Went

3/10/2019

As well as regular walking, part of the exercise regime drawn up after that pesky blood clot in my lung last year, is to climb stairs. Even to the extent of using the upstairs toilet rather than the downstairs one during my working day.

But, somehow, I don't think this is what they had in mind: climbing all 20 floors to the top of Leicestershire's tallest occupied building.

It seemed like a good idea at the time to sign up for the LOROS St George's Tower Run, to climb 351 steps.

And do you know what...it turned out to be a good idea all the way through.

The night before the event, on March 9th, I was starting to have a little anxiety about whether I'd be able to complete it. But, complete it I did...I pressed the big red button at the finishing line to claim my glass of Prosecco and finishers medal.

The LOROS Tower Run is the biggest event of its kind in the Midlands, and this year well over 500 people ran or walked (that's me...I walked!) to the very top.

With everyone starting at intervals of 20 seconds, I expected to be quickly overtaken, but that only happened three times, and I really surprised myself to finish the climb in a matter of moments. Okay, I was a little breathless, and, yes, LOROS weren't kidding when they warned that leg burn was guaranteed. But what a sense of achievement. It was fantastic to do something I'd never considered before, and to help raise awareness of the incredible work that LOROS does.

Arriving at the entrance to the tower around 45 minutes before the start, I was issued with my race number to pin on my chest, and timing tags which normally go onto the competitors' trainer laces. But as I was doing it barefoot the timers were attached to elastic bands around my ankles.

When the time came, a group of around 15 of us were shown to the start line, where the 20-second interval beginning times were strictly adhered to. And then I was off. They say every journey, however long, starts with a single step. The first few flights quickly became a thing of the past. Then that leg burn began, just ever so slightly. And I wasn't breathing quite so easily.

Stewards were there on most floors, encouraging everyone along, and before I hardly knew it one of them was saying I was at the half-way mark. For the next few flights my breathing became more laboured, and the leg burn increased. I did notice a couple of people pausing on the landings, but, by then, I never doubted that I was going to finish it without having to stop.

However, the words of the steward on the penultimate landing were like music to my ears: "You're almost there...just two more flights, each with nine steps."

And then, there I was...on the 20th floor, with just a corridor down to the finish line. Crossed the line. Pressed the big red finish button. Presented with my finishers medal. Collected a glass of Prosecco. Had my official finishers photo taken. Looked at the wonderful view across Leicester. Chatted with fellow climbers about what a great event it was, and how LOROS impacts so positively on so many people's lives.

LOROS Hospice is a charity caring for over 2,500 people in my home county of Leicestershire and neighbouring Rutland every year. They deliver free, high quality compassionate care and support to terminally ill patients, their family and carers. The care they provide is unique, and tailored to each individual patient.

My Father-In-Law died in a hospice in London many years ago, so when the opportunity arose for me to help raise awareness for my local hospice in this way, I jumped at the chance.

I had actually been involved with LOROS, albeit in a minor way, around 20 years ago. I was an associate director with a full services marketing agency which was hired by LOROS to put their newsletter together, and I worked personally on writing and editing the publication. But this was the first time I've ever been involved in any of their activities.

LOROS is always organising superb fund-raising and awareness-raising events, and always on the lookout for volunteers.

Please do me a favour and check them out here: https://www.loros.co.uk/

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Jamie's Mental Health YouTube Channel

3/1/2019

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Mental health awareness takes many forms nowadays.

And with social media being such a major part of our lives, it's no surprise that a wide variety of channels are being fully utilised to get important mental health messages across.

I recently came across Jamie Lee Olivero on Twitter https://twitter.com/LeeOlivero.

Jamie Lee has a YouTube channel dedicated to mental health. Check it out here:
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCig7aUFt2q-Mnn-dQVLHrPA

Here, Jamie-Lee writes exclusively about why he started the channel.

by JAMIE LEE OLIVERO

Two years ago now, I developed Generalised Anxiety Disorder [GAD]. Who would have known I would have to suffer through this mental disorder and re-train my Brian again to live a somewhat normal life, as if I had been born again and had to learn everything all over again, except it was just re-wiring my brain.

It all started because I smoked a joint of cannabis, this joint pretty much ended my ‘care free’ lifestyle that I was so used to. The night I smoked that joint I had my very first panic attack, I was also extremely high and so my emotions and the situation itself was so much worse than it could have been.

After that night I would have frequent panic attacks for no reason, I developed Hypochondria [Health Anxiety]. As time went by I then developed Insomnia, Depersonalisation and a crippling fear of going insane. It got to the point where I would pull my hair and smack my self because I felt like I wasn’t even real. It became very dark and I became suicidal. I never thought of telling anyone or getting help until I hit rock bottom, I told myself it wasn’t my time to leave this world yet. I phoned my mother and immediately got help.

Now, two years later, I go to therapy sessions once a week, I stopped drinking alcohol, changed my diet drastically, exercise every single day (except Sundays). Although it is still a daily struggle and I still have times where I want to give up, it is now a lot better and manageable. I had dug myself into this very deep hole and had no idea how to climb out of it. I thought that there was no way out, no matter what I did, I thought I was destined to die.

For anyone going through this, I have to tell you, it DOES get better, it always does. No matter how dark it gets there is ALWAYS a light at the end of the tunnel, you just need a little help to see that, that's all. Don’t be afraid of reaching out and receiving help. I make videos on the topic myself on YouTube so here is the link for anyone interested:

Https://www.youtube.com/JamieLeeOlivero

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Barefoot Up The Steps -- All 351 Of Them!

2/13/2019

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I've just started training for my latest charity awareness-raising event.

On Saturday March 9 I'm taking part in the LOROS Tower Run. This involves walking or running (I'll be walking, make no mistake about that!) up 20 floors to the top of one of Leicester's tallest buildings, St George's Tower.

That's 351 steps!

LOROS Hospice is a charity, caring for over 2,500 people in my home county of Leicestershire and neighbouring Rutland every year. They deliver free, high quality compassionate care and support to terminally ill patients, their family and carers. The care they provide is unique, and tailored to each individual patient.

My Father-In-Law died in a hospice in London many years ago, so when the opportunity arose to raise awareness for my local hospice in this way, I jumped at the chance.

The LOROS Tower Run is the biggest event of its kind in the Midlands, with hundreds of regular runners and first-timers alike all racing their way to the top of Leicester's tallest occupied building.

Right in the heart of Leicester City Centre, and just around the corner from the railway station, St George's Tower certainly stands out with its vibrant colours for all to see. But, as LOROS ask, could you run or walk up all 20 floors and 351 steps right to the top?

If anyone wants to join me, I'll be setting off on the middle shift, between 11.15 a.m. and 12.15 p.m. You
can register here: https://www.loros.co.uk/support-us/events/2019/03/09/loros-tower-run-2019

LOROS are proud that 91p from every £1 raised and donated goes directly towards patient care.

And, as ever with my charity endurance events, I'll be doing it barefoot. So, training is underway!

What goes up...

...must come down

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Teach A Person To Fish...

2/9/2019

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There's an old saying: "Give a person a fish and you feed them for a day. Teach a person how to fish and they feed themselves for life."

The same is true of mental health coping strategies. A good coping strategy means we can all better manage our day-to-day struggles without constant input from mental health professionals who play a major role at the beginning of our illness.

I'm one of the lucky ones. Mental illness enslaved me in the late 1990s. But I fought back. Strongly and fiercely. Not only against the curse of the illness itself, but against the curse of the stigma it uses to plague its victims.

Having now built a successful new life from the ruins of my old one, I can honestly say I owe it all to coping strategies. Nowadays, I don't generally need to consciously employ them, because they've become second nature to me.

But it was all so different when I was first diagnosed, initially with stress and depression, and then a period of temporary psychosis which saw me sectioned for 28 days under the UK Mental Health Act.

For around a year I had no idea what was happening to me, and soldiered on, as I suspect a great many of us do. Eventually my mind reached overload point, and during a ten week spell in the Woodbourne Priory hospital I was sectioned, and a nurse assigned to be constantly by my side for around four weeks.

My life was at rock bottom. My family thought I'd never work again. In fact, at one point they thought I might never leave hospital.

But eventually those dark days turned towards dawn and the light began to shine on me. Thanks to the love of my family and the dedication of superb mental health professionals, I learned how to create effective coping strategies and actually changed my whole outlook on life. Before my diagnosis I was an overly ambitious perfectionist, keen to please everyone and get everything absolutely spot on. That, coupled with the fact that three people who were very close to me died within a few months of each other, drove me over the edge.

During my treatment it was found I had repressed bad memories from my childhood. It was also discovered I had an inferiority complex. With all that out in the open I was on the way to recovery. And once I was discharged, my coping strategy became all about casting off the things I no longer needed in my life, including corporate success and the stress that comes with it. I returned to my first love of writing, and for the last few years have worked as a novelist and Public Relations writer, and have my own column in a local monthly magazine.

To me, coping strategies are highly personal, and you need one for every situation that can cause difficulty. For example, I realised that if I were to continue seeking perfection in my work and myself, I was destined to fail, and in all probability would face an even longer spell as a hospital in-patient. So my coping strategy for that was to accept compromise, both from myself and other people.

Whenever a deadline approaches I ask myself what is the worst that can happen if I don't meet it? Occasionally I need to burn the midnight oil, but in the olden days it was a daily occurrence. Now when I miss deadlines no-one worries. Least of all me.

I've now learned how to handle the stigma from some quarters facing anyone with mental health issues. Social media is a double-edged sword for this, and, in my op[inion, requires its own coping strategy. On the one hand social media is a positive, empowering tool, connecting us with others who can support us through the difficult times, and where we can support and encourage others. On the other hand, it can be used as a medium of evil and vileness, with people posting less than helpful comments.

So another coping strategy quickly came about - to simply ignore the attacks on me. Simple, but effective.

And that's the secret, not only of handling how the stigma is perpetrated by the darker side of social media, but coping with stigma in the real world, too. You can't make everyone be kind. You can't turn everyone into a decent human being. So don't try too hard to do that. Instead, enjoy the successes you have, and enjoy your family, friends, and online supporters. And ignore those who give you grief.

So, while I have numerous coping strategies for individual aspects which have become an integral part of my psyche now, I have one overall philosophy: today I'm very much my own person, going barefoot most of the time, which I find is a powerful influence on my mental well-being. The physical connection in this way with the planet that supports me, gives me inner peace.

The fact that my bare feet are constantly connected with the ground, drawing in the powerful energy from the Earth, is one of those original coping strategies devised before I was released from the Woodbourne in 1997.

So, let's take a look at it.

Going Barefoot Is Vital For My Mental Well-Being

Most exercises involving mental concentration are done barefoot - yoga, martial arts, tai chi, etc. Not that I do any of those, but I've discovered that walking barefoot has massive health benefits...both mental and physical.

We've all heard of reflexology. This involved freeing accumulated energy which, when not slowed to flow naturally, causes many types of diseases and ailments. Going barefoot on all terrains is a natural process of stimulating parts of the sole of the foot which are connected to our organs and other parts of the body.

Abandoning shoes in almost all situations stimulates my blood circulation; helps my body eliminate a fair amount of fats and toxins; prevents varicose veins; and improves my posture and balance. Many podiatrists and sections of the medical profession now recognise the enormous health benefits of going barefoot when it comes to fighting sleep disturbance, muscle and joint pain, asthmatic and respiratory conditions, rheumatoid arthritis, hypertension, stress, heart rate variability, and immune system activity and response.

But to me, as well as these physical benefits which I believe have kept me young and fit, belying my 63 years, going barefoot has had an enormous impact on my mental and spiritual well-being.

When you're barefoot, whether it be on urban streets or woodland, you become so much more aware of your surroundings. You are at one with the terrain, not just a spectator. Focusing on your steps and not your problems, clears your mind, putting you at ease, considerably reducing stress and tension.

It means that with every step I take my thought process becomes more focused on the path I'm treading. Consciously I steer clear of stones, thorns, glass, and yes...dog poo, too! When that happens all negative thoughts vanish, and I'm able to focus solely on walking.

While it works for me, making me much calmer and largely stress-free, I'm not saying being barefoot all the time is right for everyone. You need to find your own way...your own coping strategies. But for me, having bare feet has changed my world.

My Experience Of Being Sectioned

As I mentioned, I was sectioned for 28 days during my spell at the Woodbourne Priory in 1997.

In many ways it was a bittersweet experience. On the one hand frightening and overwhelming, but on the other warm and comforting - forming protection against the outside world.

My counsellor had originally admitted me to the Woodbourne Priory private psychiatric clinic as a voluntary patient for stress and depression bright on by my intolerable workload as I climbed the corporate ladder and the deaths of two people who were close to me.

One of those two people was my Mother-In-Law, who suffered a lingering, painful death from cancer.

Almost immediately my Father-In-Law was also diagnosed with terminal cancer. I was constantly hoping, and telling people of my wishes, that he could die swiftly and painlessly to avoid the horrific ending his wife had suffered.

Completely unexpectedly, he did, about three weeks into my time in the Priory. Instantly, voices in my head told me I was to blame for his death. The voices were explicit as to how I must "atone for my sin." I had to slash my right cheek from the side of my eye to my chin, and then slash both my wrists. But I also had to take someone with me, and I must star selecting a fellow patient.

My last memory for about a fortnight was running from the Priory and finding a hairdressing salon on the road into Birmingham, where I demanded a pair of scissors to fulfil what the voices were instructing me.

Apparently - although I have no recollection of this; it's all what I was told afterwards - the police had already been alerted to the fact that I'd been seen running down the drive, and when the hairdresser called them, they were on the scene in minutes, taking me back to the clinic.

I was duly sectioned for 28 days. But because of the severity of my condition and my increasingly bizarre behaviour I was also "specialed," meaning s nurse was assigned to never be more than a few feet from me, around the clock.

To this day I have no memory of those first 14 days or so of being sectioned. When the fog did start to lift I demanded to be taken home immediately. The doctors had to explain again about me being sectioned and what it meant, as I could not remember having been told.

The fact that I was a prisoner sank in quickly. Actually, worse than a prisoner. Prisoners have right. My rights had apparently been stripped from me. I was detained against my will, forcibly drugged with lithium, so powerful that blood tests were taken every couple of days to ensure it wasn't harming me physically. Going to the toilet and taking a bath had to be done in full view of my "special" nurse, sometimes male, sometimes female.

The voices were still there, but the lithium was dulling them. However, I was constantly asking the nurse to get me a pair of scissors, explaining that the only way I could be redeemed was to obey them. I attempted to escape several times, the most successful being when I persuaded a hapless bank nurse to let me go into the grounds. Even though I was in pyjamas and barefoot I was able to outrun her. But it wasn't long before the police returned me to the Priory, this time in handcuffs as if I were a criminal.

Daily sessions were held with a senior psychiatrist, and gradually the voices were held in check. I'll always remember another patient saying I was returning to the real world. During this second half of my enforced incarceration I began to accept what was happening to me, and indeed to welcome it.

No longer was I rebelling against my jailors (and, make no mistake, that's exactly how I viewed them) - instead I metaphorically embraced them with open arms. Locked away inside the Priory I was warm, snug and safe from the outside world. They were giving me weapons to fight the voices, the armoury to overthrow the waves of bad, negative thoughts that had been invading my mind for so long.

No longer did I wake up every morning and immediately curl up in a ball, cursing the fact that I was alive. I woke up looking forward to what the day would bring and taking another small, tottering step towards getting my life back.

And all this was due to the fact that I'd been sectioned. The section ended after 28 days, but I remained specialed for a further fortnight. In total I was in the clinic for around ten weeks before being discharged into a care-in-the-community programme. Apart from one minor relapse the coping strategies I learned during that time have been successful, and I'm grateful to have been able to rebuild my life with new, stronger, firmer foundations.

I can still hear the gentle, soothing music during the relaxation sessions, still hear the clink of the croquet balls as we played on the front lawn, still relish the comradery of my fellow patient as we struggled together against the same foe. It was a time of my life that I'll actually cherish forever, as it marked the beginning of the spiritual, caring person I am today.

I have a vibrant Twitter account: https://twitter.com/AuthorSJB which I use to support and encourage others...not just with their mental issues, but in all endeavours. I live my life by the wonderful ethos of Desiderata, which I first discovered as a teenager, but became even more relevant during my recovery: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PNq_DTmVCWs as well as the words of the titular character from my favourite TV programme, Doctor Who: "Never be cruel. Never be cowardly. Remember, hate is always foolish, love is always wise. Always try to be nice, but never fail to be kind."

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Co-ordination? What Co-ordination?

2/2/2019

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Okaayyy…after four years of a keep-fit class, you’d have thought the co-ordination between my arms and legs would be spot on now, wouldn’t you?

Well, it’s not to be. I still have to focus so hard to get my arms to do what they’re supposed to when my legs are doing something entirely different.

This all started when I turned 59 in January 2015. It finally sunk in then, that I wasn’t getting any younger, wasn’t getting any thinner and wasn’t getting any fitter. Then I read about a local exercise group for the over 50s, at Sport In Desford. So along I trundled and duly signed up.

That was when it became apparent that the co-ordination between my arms and legs was virtually non-existent. By focusing on my legs they did what I wanted but my arms took on a life of their own. By focusing on my arms they did what I wanted, but my legs made hay while the cat was away.

Let’s try a little experiment. I’ll focus entirely on my legs while I type the next sentence. Dp yjos od ejsy js[[rmd ejrm ,u jsmfd fp ejsy yjru jsbr gtrr trohm.

Ah…legs now doing what they want, so normal service resumes with my hands.

My exercise instructor Melanie Tee says that although some people believe exercise classes aren’t for the over 50s, at this stage of my life they are more important than ever. She says regular exercise as we grow older can help boost energy, maintain independence and help manage symptoms and pain.

And d’you know what? I’ve thoroughly enjoyed every minute of every hour-long class since February 2015.

And I definitely feel better for it. I may be 63 now, but in my mind I’m still 25.

Oh, hang on…legs are demanding attention again. Dp jrtr er hp shsom.

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My Top 7 Blog Posts of 2018

1/28/2019

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I've been tagged by my online friend Aimee, https://twitter.com/Seetheuniverse_ from the https://seetheuniverse.co.uk/ blog to join this great game.

For this tag, I am required to share my favourite seven blog posts from 2018 as well as sharing seven things that I loved about 2018 and seven things that I am looking forward to in 2019.
So let’s get started! - I'm including a mix of my own posts and guest writers who contributed to my blog during 2018.

Number 1 - A Blood Clot In My Lung.

This tells the story of my brush with death in March, when I - as the title suggests - was rushed into hospital with a blood clot in my lung.
https://stewartbintauthor.weebly.com/stewart-bints-blog/a-blood-clot-in-my-lung

Number 2 - Time To Talk About Mental Health.

An introductory post from February, to my mental health issues, which also links to a guest post I wrote for a major mental health blog.
https://stewartbintauthor.weebly.com/stewart-bints-blog/time-to-talk-about-mental-health

Number 3 - Antiques With A Touch Of The Paranormal

A fascinating guest post about haunted antiques! Ye, you read that right...it's about a specialist centre for investigating haunted antiques, which is thought to be the only one of its kind in the UK.
https://stewartbintauthor.weebly.com/stewart-bints-blog/antiques-with-a-touch-of-the-paranormal

Number 4 - The Truth About The Lies

For several years a handful of people I clashed with on Twitter when I was involved in an anti-online bullying campaign, have been spreading lies about me, twisting innocent situations, and gaslighting to make me out to be the bad guy.

This blog post saw me break my silence on what was a very hurtful situation which was affecting my mental health. In it, I offer to give full and frank answers to anyone who may be tempted to believe the outlandish allegations.
https://stewartbintauthor.weebly.com/stewart-bints-blog/the-truth-about-the-lies

Number 5 - The Five Vs And the Three Ps

A guest post from Leicestershire's Police and Crime Commissioner, Lord Willy Bach.
https://stewartbintauthor.weebly.com/stewart-bints-blog/the-five-vs-and-the-three-ps

Number 6 - Summer Sun And Mental Health

Another guest post, looking at the specific mental health issues that summertime can bring.
https://stewartbintauthor.weebly.com/stewart-bints-blog/summer-sun-and-mental-health

Number 7 - You Really Don't Want To Get Hold Of The Wrong End Of the Stick. Believe Me, You Don't

My final selection is a post looking at the origins of some of our oldest and most enigmatic sayings.
https://stewartbintauthor.weebly.com/stewart-bints-blog/you-really-dont-want-to-get-hold-of-the-wrong-end-of-the-stick-believe-me-you-dont

Seven Things I Loved About 2018

Visiting some wonderful countries I hadn't been to before, including Vietnam, Hong Kong and Singapore.
Jodie Whittaker becoming the 13th Doctor in Doctor Who.
Making what appears to be a full recovery from that pesky blood clot in my lung.
Growing my mental health network on Twitter
The publication of my fifth paperback - my short story collection, Thunderlands
The growing popularity of my column, having moved it to a different magazine.
Getting my weekends back, after deciding to put my fiction on hold.

Seven Things I'm Looking Forward To This Year

Visiting more new countries, including India and the Andaman Islands in a couple of months.
Meeting more Twitter friends in real life
Following my son's adventures on his incredible round-the-world trip
Preparing at the end of the year to meet up with my son for a few days in Australia early in 2020, before we embark on a cruise from Sydney.
More barefoot hikes in the summer.
Developing new recipes for my passion of cooking.
Not having to mow my front and back lawns, having had artificial grass laid.

Seven Bloggers To Check Out

I'm now tagging these seven bloggers to take part in the Top Seven Challenge. You should definitely check them out:

Emma: https://emma-lucy-thomson.net/
Vicky: https://twitter.com/deadxcentral
Alicja: https://twitter.com/popular_is_wron
Mixed Up Mummy: http://amixedupmummy.blogspot.com/
Leigh: http://drwhowhatwhy.com/
DM Cain: https://dmcain84.com/blog/
Anneli: https://pigletish.com/

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The Magic Streets of Prague

1/19/2019

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Magic Streets is the first book in a new series, Prague Bound, coming from my author friend Marco Marek.

Although it won't be published until February 2, Magic Streets is currently available to pre-order in a variety of formats.

So, what's it all about, and where can you get it? Take a look below.

MAGIC STREETS

Photography has never been so dangerous for Jack.

Excited to visit Prague, he packs his camera and sets out to complete an assignment for a well-known magazine.

However, shooting award-winning photographs isn't the only challenge that Jack will face. Blissfully unaware of the magic within the city of Prague, he rents an apartment at a mysterious former hotel.

Determined to complete his assignment, he stumbled upon a magic street...and will become involved in a monster hunt with a tarot reader, a young witch, and others. The adventure that waits is filled with magic, turmoil, danger, and a newfound love. Will Jack be able to face his fears, or will the city be lost forever?

To pre-order now, or buy from February 2, click below:
Amazon: Click here
Smashwords: Click here
Barnes & Noble: Click here
Kobo: Click here

ABOUT MARCO MAREK

Marco Marek was born in Italy. He has always has a vivid imagination and passion for fantasy stories, medieval magicians, ancient history, and unexplained mysteries.

While visiting a castle in Eastern Europe, he had the idea of writing his earlier novel, Hyperearth. Apart from writing, Marco is also a painter and photographer. He likes digital artwork on Photoshop.

He loves travelling when he has some spare time.

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Jodie's Not Everyone's Doctor Who

11/20/2018

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I think you all know by now that I love Doctor Who, having watched every episode since that very first one, way back in 1963 when I was seven years old.

And how I was so looking forward to seeing Jodie Whittaker take on the role of the 13th Doctor. While I've really taken to Jodie, I'm not impressed with how showrunner Chris Chibnall is handling many aspects of the show. And neither are a lot of fans. Many have stopped watching altogether...and a #NotMyDoctor hashtag has been set up on Twitter.

I did think a few old die-hard fans who were weaned on Classic Who may have reservations about Jodie...but I thought there'd be unanimous support from a new range of younger fans, particularly teenage girls who'd see her as a role model.

But a number of younger fans are highly critical of Jodie on several counts.

I'm known on Twitter for respecting everyone's opinion on any subject...even those diametrically opposed to mine.  So when I was discussing Doctor Who on Twitter with Alex Whitestone, and discovered her daughter is one of those young fans who doesn't like Jodie, I offered to publish her daughter's views here, entirely unedited.

Alex says: "My daughter, Jeanne (11) is a typical fan of DW. Loves sci-fi, math, astronomy. She is a rising star of aikido, she won Cup of Artek. Writes poems and tries to write fanfiction.  Let's listen to Jeanne."

by Jeanne Whitestone

I don't like plots. There are many different, more smart ways to solve the problems. Also, the problems may be more interesting to watch. In S11 plots are too simple. Villains aren't scary and easy to defeat. The plots in "Wander Over Yonder" or "Gravity Falls" are better.

But the main problem is the main character. I can't call her The Doctor because she isn't The Doctor for me. She is completely out of character. For example, she uses the word "team" for her companions, but The Doctor didn't like this word and chose "the gang" instead.

The Doctor is aikidoka, an 8th-dan master, but 13th's tries to show some aikido techniques are completely wrong. It's obvious that she has no experience in any military operations. But The Doctor was one of the best CIA operatives and he knew very well how to act in combat.

Also, he didn't offered fair play to any monsters. He chose the effective solutions, including lie, cheating, hacks and manipulation. After all, The Doctor is a man, and I can't understand any reason for him to become such a stupid girl.

Her appearance is awful, I don't like it. Her trousers look like a very short hakama (very wide training pants which aikido masters wear) and it looks very stupid for me. Her boots aren't laced properly, no soldier does that.

Also, I can't understand how she had got a makeup on her face and her hair bleached just after regeneration.

Yet another strange thing is her new abilities. She couldn't survive the fall from the clouds and not to regenerate. She reprogrammed a smartphone by looking at it.

The Terminatrix (T-X) could do this, but there are no clues that timelords could. The Doctor is a good hacker, but he needs tools to do this. But we didn't see Doctor's native telepathic abilities in action. There were some clues in canon that he can do some telekinesis.

It'll be better to see some Jedi-style action than those strange things.

Even TARDIS don't like 13th. The timeship ejected her like an unwanted passenger. Even when 13th broke into TARDIS, the ship doesn't want to obey her. Her companions see that she can't control the ship.

But 11th and 12th Doctors didn't experience such problems with control of TARDIS, despite the fact that all the systems were new too.

Please, please, let the 10th Doctor return. He was so real, so alive. Sometimes happy, sometimes suffering, sometimes dark and scary, sometimes silly. A genius, a warrior, a fighter - a true man. But 13th is unnatural. She is a lifeless doll, a poor fake of the real Doctor.

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How To Be An Asshole

10/18/2018

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So, there we are. In the Self-Help book category on Amazon there's a great little tome called How to be an Asshole.

Yes, go on, then...get the jokes out of the way now. I can hear you all saying I don't need any help in being an asshole; I'm managing quite well on my own.

But all is not quite what it seems.

To cast some light on the matter I had a chat with the author, Carl Mills.

Stewart Bint: What inspired you to write How to be an Asshole?

Carl Mills: Cashiering at the Loaf ‘N Jug in Golden, Colorado. I’ve worked before, but the dehumanization I experienced there by putting on a uniform was simply beyond anything I’d felt elsewhere. Most people there treat you like garbage when you’re behind the counter, as if you’re not a real human anymore, but just another one of the displays that happens to walk, talk, and take money their money.

I actually had a customer say snidely, “Well, if you wanted a job where you didn’t take out trash, you should’ve finished college.” This was unprovoked, as we weren’t even conversing before he said that, but we also didn’t stop there either. I walked right up to him and said, “I did finish college. Maybe you don’t know everything, huh doc?” Assholes are not a rare occurrence, they’re the majority, especially in a rich town like Golden where almost everybody lives on a hill and thinks they’re extra-special. I had two choices: Go on a kill-crazy rampage for the good of society, or find a more constructive outlet. This was that outlet.

I chose the format I did because I’ve read a manners book or two growing up, and they’re either absolutely hilarious, or god-awful holier-than-thou gobshite. To me, it’s all about making them laugh. If it’s funny, they’re too busy laughing to be bored, and maybe they’ll learn something too while they’re laughing. It worked wonderfully for South Park.

Since I knew that HTBAA couldn’t possibly cover every base of human imagination, I wanted to throw in a catch-all, and that’s where the ending came from. The last two pages are reserved for the Reader themselves to write whatever it is that bothers them personally in their own lives. If they gift a version with a completed ending, the book becomes the world’s longest greeting card that says, “I notice you, and I hope you laugh, but also, cut this specific crap out! It’s beyond annoying, so much so that you’re in a book now!”

Finally, I picked the title because of an episode from Leverage. One of the characters says, “What part of, “Wrote the book,” did you not comprehend?” I can now say I literally wrote the book on how to be an asshole for the rest of my life, followed by that hilarious line. Not exactly a rich-man’s goal, but it is perfect for a lunatic author. Nobody else for the rest of history is allowed to say that with the same gravitas, and that just makes me laugh.

SB: What's it about?

CM: Simply, it’s a satirical manners book. The longer version is that it’s cobbled together from the experiences I’ve had to endure, or watched others have to endure, shown through a prism of hilarity. I tried to make it funny so people would actually read it, as well as it being incredibly fun/cathartic to write that way.

The larger goal: That humanity learns from the laughs enough to improve itself before the workers riot. I can only imagine how many service industry employees would murder their customers if given the chance.

It took about three years to write and put together. It started out more as just a joke piece for me to relieve the pressure built up after work, but then it started being genuinely funny. I moved onto other areas like the Smoking Circle section, and figured there are things that everybody should know, but nobody is actually out there distributing pamphlets. That just evolved into whatever else I could think that might make us nicer, or at the very least, more bearable, as a people.

I’m always considering sequel ideas, just because they make me laugh. From a simply expanded version, to an international version where each chapter is different host-countries with guest-writers, to even a Presidential edition “honoring” the Commander in Chief. It just depends if I can find an idea that sticks, and is practical. The Trump edition would probably outweigh a dictionary, and I frankly have no idea what I would have to charge for that.

SB: What will people gain from reading your book?

CM: That’s really up to them. They could just get a laugh, learn how to be a better human being, or use the book as a gift that informs their friend in a safe (out-of-swinging range) manner of a particular habit they don’t particularly enjoy with their custom ending.

I guess it’s the philosophical equivalent of having a comic give you a decency lesson. I suppose you could even use the book like an Anarchist Cookbook, and improve your skills at being a blight upon the species without learning a thing.

SB: Tell me a little bit about yourself.

CM: I’m 29 years old, and have a Bachelor’s degree in Creative Writing from Texas State. When I’m not writing, I’m hanging out with my cat Odin, reading, tweeting, or playing videogames. I have published a few other books, but HTBAA has been my favorite so far, both to write, and in terms of content.

SB: Where can people buy your book?

CM: It's available on Amazon, at: https://www.amazon.com/How-be-Asshole-Carl-Mills/dp/1546343172/

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Youngkind - a Revolutionary New Mental Health Charity for Young People

9/24/2018

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My guest blogger today is 25-year-old Conner Nudd, founder of a revolutionary new charity, Youngkind, established to offer meaningful support to the increasing number of young people with mental health issues who reach their point of crisis.

by Conner Nudd

Take a moment to think about this problem, which I’m sure you’ve heard many times before: 2.6 million UK citizens currently have an open referral within the mental health services. 560,000 of these citizens are under the age of 18 and 75% of those aren’t receiving any treatment at all. This is leading to over 6,000 under 18’s committing suicide every year. The chances are that 25% of your friends/associates have children with mental health issues, whether that be Depression, Anxiety, Bipolar, Bulimia, Anorexia, PTSD etc.

Is this growing level of despair in young people acceptable to us? And it is us, not someone else's problem.

Underfunded and squeezed to breaking point, the NHS is struggling to provide mental health care to everyone that needs it. In the UK mental health conditions make up around 28 per cent of the total burden of disease, the largest single health issue, but they receive just 13 per cent of the total NHS budget. At the same time, the budget for adult social care, which provides ongoing mental health support, has been cut in real terms by 13.5 per cent in England over the last eight years. There is a need for national reform, which must include a diversion of spend, particularly to address the needs of the more than 420,000 children and young people that are deprived of the urgent mental health care they so desperately need each year.

Children spend 9000 days waiting to be discharged from hospital a year due to the lack of subsequent support in the community. That equates to a yearly cost of £3.8 million, funds that can be used to successfully treat over 5,000 children and young people without regression, without a wait for outpatient services and without a demand to travel hundreds of miles for care.

But you can’t rob Peter to pay Paul. What’s needed therefore is a new approach that brings in partnership to form a public / private solution. A solution that drives out fundamental cost in ways that free up monies to be spent more effectively in areas including mental health. To divert spend from safeguarding and bed occupancy to prevention and efficient treatment.

Youngkind has been set up in direct response to this growing need for national reform with the specific intent of unlocking the resources of over 10,000 counsellors, social workers and psychologists that provide private treatment in a patch work fashion today. If you’ve ever tried to find a therapist it’s hard. Do they have the experience and skills you need? Are they local? Are they available? Are they someone who the young person can bond with, trust? It’s a maze, it’s foreign, it’s often beyond the confidence and skills of those in need or their families to struggle through. And that’s before we think about cost.

Youngkind, a charity established to deliver positive change to young people suffering with mental health issues, believes that it can help reduce the cost of NHS admissions. Today that cost which averages £429 per day per patient, could treat one person in need of professional intervention for 8 weeks. Safeguarding versus a real solution. But we understand that moving monies around in the NHS won’t be easy, not least because there is so much demand in all areas. We want to therefore help meet a significant part of that funding gap too through external sources.

We see three distinct phases. Stage one is to build a digital experience that makes finding the appropriate care easy, fast and completely unique to the UK through an app and a web site that the target demographics will embrace and understand. This platform will help unlock the vast network of private care specialists that are inefficiently used and difficult to find today. We’ll have video’s, and guides, search based upon location, availability, specialisation and so on, Q&As and case studies. It will be a portal to help access this community. All we’ll need is a referral and we can save a life.

In stage 2 we want to ‘negotiate’ lower fees for the services delivered. By enabling those in need to efficiently find those that can help, soaking up all that unused capacity, we believe that we can negotiate a 20 – 30% “discount” passed to those referred through Youngkind. Stage 3 will then be to raise external monies to deliver those services at no charge to those that do not have the capacity to pay, based upon a pledge that monies will be repaid to whatever level and rate achievable when the young person is better, is back at work and in the community.

Youngkind will offer professional mental health services in partnership with the NHS. The current pathway typically has long wait times for treatment, an average of 13 weeks to a first appointment. We plan to cut this through the following measures:

Unlock private sector services: The Youngkind app/website will include a directory of professional Psychologists, Counsellors, Social Workers, Psychotherapists.
Make finding professional help easy: With pictures, qualifications, accreditation, location, availability, video’s, areas of specialisation, reviews, charges, contact details etc., all to enable a qualified search and selection process.
Helping find that match: Our platform will develop ground-breaking technology that helps the individuals to understand the specific problem, before searching and presenting matches to appropriate treatment options locally.
Reduce wait times: With tens of thousands of professionals available in the private sector, we aim to have a person referred to us and receiving treatment within a maximum of one week by marshalling these resources.
Support schools: Youngkind will enable schools to interact directly with our services, refer (with the individuals consent) to us for advice and possible referral for treatment. We will promote positive mental health within the education sector and offer ambassadors to educate and promote across student bodies.
Support and compliment the NHS: Youngkind will work with the NHS mental health services so that we can free up occupied beds. The first step is preventative care, the second step is supporting patients while admitted to hospital, the third step is to offer treatment services to patients that have been discharged and on the road to recovery.
Reduce cost all the way to free: We don’t want cost to be a barrier to treatment. Evidence shows that such costs can easily exceed £1000 for a course of treatment, which prohibits most. Through the Youngkind Pledge either the individual will pay a reduced fee for treatment once the necessary appropriate professional specialist has been identified, or they will receive the treatment at no charge, covered by Youngkind.

The Patient Pathway

The current patient pathway is hampered and constrained leading to long waiting times. From as little as 4 weeks to as long as 4 months in some areas. Patients admitted to hospital are often stuck as there is no support available in the community for long periods of time and therefore they are forced to remain in hospital on the waiting list until community treatments become available.

This clearly is a massive burden on the NHS but also can be disastrous for patients. In a survey of 2,000 patients, one in six said they had attempted suicide while waiting for treatment, four in 10 said they had self-harmed, and two thirds said their condition had deteriorated before they had a chance to see a mental health professional.

The graphic below outlines the current mental health patient pathway:

Youngkind will address the waiting period by dovetailing into the current NHS system. Our goal is to prevent hospitalisation wherever possible by arranging for treatment of patients that are not displaying an immediate risk to life, before that has a chance to change and they become a serious risk to themselves through the lack of immediate treatment.

We do not seek to replace the Crisis team or emergency services, but rather work alongside them to help young people in emergency care. We will also support outpatient services by offering a fall-back option if outpatient therapy isn’t immediately available. And we will work with any Home Treatment or Community Teams to support patients that have been discharged from hospital and awaiting professional therapy.

Our vision to compliment and alleviate the current resources and pathway can be represented as:

Website purpose and pathway

Refer: The client is referred to Youngkind by their GP, school, workplace, family or will find us directly themselves. Contact is made with the individual as a first triage point. The client will input responses from queries and grant a consent in order for the website to work through its algorithms.

Match: Each professional member in the Youngkind database will have completed their profile to match tags, queries and confirm accreditation. The website will search through queries that consider distance, area of expertise, previous working history, success rate, treatment demographics and availability. The patient will be presented with results so that they are able to make a more informed selection of who to reach out to with the intent of selecting them as their treatment provider, guided by the Youngkind team.

Assess: The selected treatment provider will assess and confirm the needs of the client and agree a treatment plan. A diagnosis report typically will have already been completed by the GP, or other medical professional, and will be shared with the chosen therapist with the individual client’s consent.

Treat: The selected provider will commence the treatment plan, posting an hourly log of therapy sessions conducted, a progress update of the client and will confirm the next appointment agreed with the client.

Discharge: Once a course of treatment has been completed and the provider is happy to discharge the client, they remain on our database for regular follow up communication to assess and prevent any regression in symptoms.

We need to go much broader to achieve any level of success. For that we will need the right help from appropriate partners to get the visibility and support to reach the network of young people in need. Our aim is to become the first point of call for patients that aren’t in an immediate risk of life, working with GPs, Schools, Councils, Government, Mental Health Units and CRHTTs.

The NHS Five Year Forward Target is aimed at helping an extra 70,000 patients receive treatment per year. If Youngkind could help meet a proportion of this, then the benefits to young people would be compelling.

We would then be looking at our pledge policy, trusts, media donations, charities and the NHS to increase the funding gap to enable us to accept as many additional ongoing referrals as possible.

We need one referral to save a life, it only takes 60 seconds.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4c5WgWPKuk

Youngkind website: http://youngkind.org.uk
Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sM_haanztaM
Youngkind Twitter: twitter.com/Youngkind_
You can see my JustGiving page here: https://www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/youngkind

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Cyberspace and the Workplace - Bullying is Rife in Both

9/22/2018

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Bullying in the workplace is a nasty, insidious and cowardly practice.

But it is happening, and more than you may think. Instances include deliberately undermining competent workers by overloading them; constant criticism; copying memos that are critical of someone, to a third party who doesn’t need to know; being sworn at (there is NEVER any justification for a line manager to swear at an employee); ridiculing or demeaning someone; and deliberately setting them up to fail.

But perhaps the most cowardly and obnoxious practice is overbearing supervision or other misuse of power or position. Bullying makes the victim anxious, frightened, demotivated and stressful, with a loss of self-esteem and confidence. And in extreme circumstances can cause illness.

What makes a manager become a bully? A little bit of authority at work may have gone to their head, or they may have enjoyed picking on weaker children at school. If this is happening to you, stand up against it NOW. Workplace bullies are the dregs of society, and like all bullies they will crumble if you stand up to them.

One of my Twitter followers, Kirsty Crerar, https://twitter.com/fatsparklequeen, summed it all up perfectly when she said: “Funny how people that got bullied turned out better than the ones that bullied them.”

And talking of Twitter, there’ve been many instances of people – both ordinary folk and celebrities alike – who have closed their Twitter and Facebook accounts because of cyber bullying.

In the olden days they were known as poison pen letters. Nowadays they’re anonymous posts on Facebook, Twitter and online forums. But they’re designed to do exactly the same thing: cause pain, distress or offense to someone.

However, there are two big differences between writers of poison pen letters and these so-called “Internet Trolls” who conduct cyber bullying by dealing in offensive, controversial, or divisive material. Firstly, the letters were only read by the intended victim, while the work of these bullying, anonymous, trolls is visible for the whole world to see.

Secondly, poison pen letters will typically target the recipient’s weak point and may include lies or abusive statements intended to spark a reaction, while trolls are perhaps most notorious for posting offensive and malicious comments on internet sites.

As a fiction writer I often find myself trying to get inside my character’s psyche to see how they would act in a certain situation, and why. But when I was developing the idea for my critically acclaimed short story about an internet troll, The Twitter Bully, try as I might I just could not fathom why anyone would, or indeed, how they could, act in such a way.

Close to 90 percent of internet trolls are between the ages of 14 to 21, and social media companies make it so easy for anonymous postings, because you only need an email address to set up an account; then you can call yourself anything you like.

In the control of a sick and twisted mind, absolutely anything can be used for the wrong purposes, and social media is no different. But one, simple, answer is for social media companies to ensure that anyone posting anything online is clearly identifiable.

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Antiques With A Touch Of The Paranormal

9/4/2018

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Today's guest blogger is someone who has more than a little experience of the supernatural and paranormal. In fact, he's had a lot of experience.

Welcome, Neil Packer, a paranormal investigator in my home town of Hinckley, in Leicestershire.

Neil runs the Haunted Antiques Paranormal Research Centre in the town, which, as a specialist centre for investigating haunted antiques, is thought to be the only one of its kind in the UK.

Having been a paranormal investigator for many years, Neil began collecting objects, mainly from antique centres, and researches them to see if they're haunted, or hold energies.

Having amassed a collection of more than 50, he decided to relocate the items from his home to larger premises, where he can expand further, and open his collection to the public.

The centre, which opened earlier this year, features a main exhibition room containing all the items, which people can pick up or sit in, and record their feelings.

So, over to Neil...

by Neil Packer

I was born on the 25th January 1960 and my fascination with the paranormal began when I was a teenager. That’s when I first saw an apparition.

I was out camping with a group of friends one Saturday night. In the middle of the night I had to go out of the tent that we were all sleeping in. As I looked towards the church I saw a lady in a long flowing white dress walking from the church towards the back of the village pub. I admit it scared me half to death and I quickly made my exit and back into the tent where my friends were all sleeping. I never spoke a word to anyone about what I had seen, and I remember spending a terrified night huddled down in my sleeping bag. The experience remained a secret for many years until I bought a book that had been written about the village. It was only then that I found out that this spectre had been witnessed many times over the years. That’s when I realised that I hadn’t made it up in my mind. I had actually seen a full bodied apparition. Since then I’ve wanted to discover the truth for myself!

Is there life after death?

It wasn’t until 2015 that I could look deeper into the paranormal realm and I got together with another like minded soul and we started running a venue group. However ‘being in charge’ of a venue group meant that my passion for research and investigating just wasn’t being met, so I decided to leave that and go it alone.

In 2017, with a little bit of equipment and a big desire, I decided to start my research with objects. I truly believed that objects held energy, I didn’t feel that they would be ‘haunted’ as such, I felt that was a Hollywood film maker’s scare factor, but I was prepared to be proved wrong!

So I set out to research and prove or disprove, that spirits could be attached to objects.

I emailed lots of antique shops in the area and surrounding area, but the only person to respond to me was Phil Sims at Sims Vintage Antique Centre, at Wootton Wawen. He agreed to let me into his shop to investigate, and boy what a night!

I must admit I was very nervous to start with, as this project is so important to me. What would happen if it all went wrong? End of my dream I guess.

I did believe that the initial haunted antiques format was very, very good. After this first Saturday evening I knew where I could tweak it and the changes were made for the second visit to the antique centre. Having said that the end result was even better than I imagined it would be.

My original idea for Haunted Antiques was to record our evenings at the antique centre then edit and produce a series of highlight videos. It was in this format that our first two evenings were done, and I have produced two videos based on our first two nights. ‘The boy in the Photograph’ & ‘Bronze African Statue’ are still available to watch on the Haunted Antiques Paranormal Research Centre YouTube channel. Click on the titles above to watch them.

Almost immediately there was a number of spirits coming forward. I guess they were interested in what we were doing as no other paranormal group had been there. One in particular was a baby girl crying. It became obvious to my guest medium for the night - Ian - that this infant was buried in what is now the corner of the centre. At the end of the evening Ian helped her into the light and she moved on and was greeted by her mother.

Ian worked on three objects. Each totally different. Each leaving us with questions. One, especially, will stay in my mind for a very long time as we'd never experienced anything like it before. This was the boy in the photograph. As we sat having a short break, Ian saw a young child leap out of one of the photographs. It was a picture of a large house which we think is in Derbyshire. This little boy ran around the shop in an excited frenzy. He set off the rem pod as he raced past it. I asked him some questions which he answered. He’d never come out of the photo before, but he’d seen us and was excited so he just jumped out. He told us that his mum and dad were in the house and that they didn’t know that he’d come out to play. He was such a happy soul. At one point I asked him to hold Terri’s hand. Terri is Phil the owner's wife, who had joined us for the evening. To her astonishment she felt the small cold hand of a small child hold her hand. After a while Ian sensed he was getting tired, and he ran back into the photograph.

The second item was a bronze African figure. Ian was drawn to it. This figure has an older gentleman attached to it. He didn’t like anyone holding it, and was getting quite agitated at first but soon calmed down a bit. It was a present to him and wasn’t happy that his daughter had sold it after he passed.

Since I’ve opened the Haunted Antiques Paranormal Research Centre, Phil has very kindly donated these two items, and they now have pride of place.

I am very lucky to be associated with Sims Vintage Antique Centre in Wootton Wawen, and without the belief of Phil & Terri, the whole concept of Haunted Antiques would never have got off the idea stage. Sims Vintage Antique Centre are now proud sponsors of the Haunted Antiques Paranormal Research Centre.

Obviously now my mind is working overtime to see if we can develop what happened even further. If we could it would prove amazing.

With all our evenings we are not going to be doing them in pitch dark! If there is a shadow I want to be able to see it. The sessions are not about fear. They are not about screaming. We will listen to our guides and act on their advice, as we did on that Saturday evening.

Ian did come out with lots of information and we did get quite a lot of physical responses, and personal experiences.

Soon after that, I was contacted by Daniel at Barnsley antiques. He had experienced, and also captured on his cctv, quite a lot of interesting paranormal phenomena.

Again, I wasn’t live feeding this at the time, which was a shame because just like at Phil Simms it was an amazing and really interesting night and today’s viewers would have loved it.

Both these nights had now proved to me that objects definitely held energy and attachment! And I wanted more!

The next move was to invite a group called the ParaAngels to join me. Again another amazing night and the ParaAngels began their passion for objects, as well as buildings. The ParaAngels and I have supported each other ever since and are now a solid team.

Alongside going to antique shops to investigate, I started collecting my own objects that I was drawn to. The ParaAngels also brought objects, and members of the public would contact me to loan or donate. My little carport was soon fit to bursting with objects and their inhabitants too!

Interest on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/hauntedresearch/ started growing fast, and I now have almost 12,000 followers on Facebook from the UK and all around the world, who regularly tune in, and enjoy watching and interacting with the objects and team. Followers have also seen and experienced different types of mediumship; from mediums, to a white witch, an empath and also Gus Rudd, who's a trance medium.

So in the summer of 2017 I decided to get a bigger place to continue my research, and also to let the general public and serious paranormal groups come in and get hands-on too. But I didn’t want any old building. I wanted a building that would capture Hinckley’s history too! I was drawn to 11A Regent Street in the heart of Hinckley, and so began the Haunted Antiques Paranormal Research Centre.

New items are regularly being added to the collection, and the building is haunted in its own right too!

No two nights of investigation within the centre will ever be the same!

The new centre offers followers 24/7 live feeds over YouTube from different room locations within the centre.

Also there are plans to expand on the types of live feeds on Monday’s and another live feed during the week. Plus live feeds with the team and guest mediums.

The centre is open to the general public on Saturdays and Sundays between 10 a.m. and 4 p.m., to bring objects in, have a cup of tea, share stories and join in the research by leaving comments of what they experience and sense!

I now have something in the region of 100 items. Not all have attachments but all do have energy around them.

The centre has now been open for more than five months and is growing ever stronger. From my appearance on ITV’s THIS MORNING programme to various magazine articles to various radio shows, the brand is firmly recognised.

I'm now hosting my own paranormal show on Hinckley's Castle Mead Radio each Thursday evening. And later this year I'll be announcing a membership scheme where people can join the phenomenon that is Haunted Antiques, and receive some amazing benefits from myself and my partners.

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The Truth About The Lies

9/2/2018

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Okay, this was originally going to be quite a lengthy post, defending myself against a number of outlandish claims that have been perpetrated about me on Twitter for several years.

Then I thought…No, let’s not get carried away. So this will be considerably shorter than I anticipated. And I’m not going into detail here. But I will answer any questions anyone has about any aspect of them.

As far as I can ascertain, this is the extent of the claims.

Restraining orders are out against me. Not true.
I’ve been reported to the police, and the police have investigated me. Not true. I’ve never done anything to warrant police attention, and have never had any dealings with the police.
I’ve sent dick pictures to Twitter users. Not true. I’ve never done this.
I create sock puppet accounts to follow and harass people who’ve blocked me. Not true. I’ve never done this. I’ve only ever had one Twitter account, @Author SJB. (I did have access to a football club’s account from 2009 to 2014 for posting match reports when I covered their games for the local newspaper at that time).
I access Twitter users’ timelines after they’ve blocked me, and follow their followers. Not true. I’ve never done this.
I’ve been involved in fraud. Not true.
I have links with paedophiles. Not true.
I have a foot fetish. Not true. Yes, I go barefoot for my mental and physical wellbeing, but I don’t find the human foot remotely attractive, either male or female.
I tracked a teenager to his school after a disagreement on Twitter. Not true. (This “teenager” was actually a university graduate in his twenties, and Twitter permanently suspended his account for harassing me over a three month period).

Yes, the lies hurt.

Yes, they could be damaging to me, if a lot of people believed them. It’s this point that’s led to me breaking my silence about the full extent of what I’ve put up with on Twitter for at least five years. But on the positive side, it was the inspiration for my critically-acclaimed short story The Twitter Bully, which was published in an independent anthology in 2015, and is the sign-off story in my own short story collection, Thunderlands.

I know that a number of people who block me on Twitter read my timeline, and tweet untruths about me, because a couple of friends occasionally send me screengrabs of their posts. In the past I’ve tried ignoring them, I’ve tried reasoning with them, I’ve tried presenting them with the facts, I’ve tried humour.

But a few months ago they tried a new technique. A Twitter friend, Mark Thomas (he’s NOT one of those who’s sent me screengrabs over the years) messaged me to say he’d been approached by an anonymous account and was told a number of what he described as “very disturbing things, documents, tweets, reports and claims ranging from grooming kids to fraud. What the fuck man?”

He confronted me and asked for an explanation. Once I explained the history with the people involved, Mark stepped away and didn’t want any involvement, but could see there was years of this happening.

Unfortunately, it seems some people do believe the claims. At around that time I was unfollowed by a few accounts, and blocked by others – including four people who I'd regarded as good Twitter friends. It hurt that they could simply believe such horrible things about me which aren’t true, especially as they didn’t even give me a chance to defend myself and show them the truth.

A particularly disturbing aspect of all this is that a new follower who subsequently blocked me, told me she’d been approached by a particular account and told a number of things about me.

At first I didn’t recognise the account name that she showed me. I later realised from the @ that the main name had changed since I did have contact with it more than three and a half years ago. That account had reported me to Twitter in January 2015 after I’d strongly responded to it over a number of tweets about, and to, a Community Interest Company I supported at the time, and Twitter suspended my account. I emailed Twitter with copies of the tweets I’d been responding to and my account was immediately restored, with an apology. That was the last time I had any dealings with that account…I’ve never seen any of its tweets since, nor been involved with it in any way. So I’m at a loss as to why it’s now commenting about me three and a half years later with no provocation from me.

My mental health is beginning to suffer as a result of people believing these claims. So, I’ll end by asking that if you, or anyone you know, have blocked me because of what you’ve been told, please give me the opportunity to show you the facts and the truth: ask me any question you wish about any aspect of what you’ve been told.

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Never More Than Ten Feet Away From A Wind Turbine?

9/1/2018

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Who’d have thought I could actually take to an idea put forward last year by Michael Gove? After all, he’s not considered by many (even in the Tory party) to be a man possessed of much sense, ethics, charisma, personality or…well, anything, really.

I remember reading a couple of years ago that the National Grid was struggling to keep the lights on, as it is. So Mr Gove’s lightbulb moment of banning all new petrol and diesel vehicles by 2040 didn’t seem to be the most electrifying idea he’s ever had.

Actually, hold hard…it is electrifying. Electrifying for vehicles, anyway. Yes, sounds good in theory, to do away with dirty petrol and diesel, and we’ll all drive electric cars.

But there are two problems with that at the moment. First: the range of most electric cars is pathetic. A couple of trips to the shops and you’ve got to plug it in like a mobile phone. Secondly, just how does Mr Gove think the National Grid will cope when the nation’s drivers all recharge their batteries?

Of course, technology could come on in leaps and bounds in the next 22 years and resolve those issues. For instance, Tesla are now producing electric cars with a far longer range, even though they’re still much more expensive than traditional vehicles. So, hopefully by 2040 long range electric cars will be available at a reasonable price tag.

And maybe, just maybe, cheaper and cleaner electricity could be on tap. Maybe we’ll all be meandering our way between millions of wind turbines. Isn’t it the eventual aim that we’ll never be more than ten feet away from a wind turbine, in the same way we’re said to never be more than six feet from a rat at the moment?

And here’s where I spy a real glimmer of sanity in Mr Gove’s wider proposals – and the idea I could really take to: our local councils could be ordered to rip up their ridiculous speed bumps, which almost double the amount of harmful gases cars pump out in their immediate locality by causing drivers to constantly slow down and speed up. So every cloud has a silver lining.

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You May Not Change The World On Your Own, But You Can Make A Change In The World

8/13/2018

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By my guest blogger, Charlotte Underwood

I am a 22-year-old Mental Health Advocate from Norfolk, UK.

I'm passionate about raising awareness of mental health and doing what I can to prevent suicide.

I try to be a friend to all so no-one feels alone. I do this through Twitter (@CUnderwoodUK), and through my blog:
https://charlotteunderwoodauthor.com/

What is it like to live on the other side? Where you can say in utter confidence that you have strong mental health.

What is it like to live a life so blissful? Where life is so much greener because the universe has been kind to you; when you got the winning straw.

I ask myself all of this a lot, I would say that I envy the people who are not like me. Those who’s sadness will go after eating ice cream, who can go for a run or manage a healthy diet. You know the life I mean, just something so much less, complicated.

This Is just not the reality for so many thousands of people around the world, billions even, and I am one of them.

I get called abnormal often, because to many people, my mental illness and numerous other lifechanging events, has rendered me against the norm. For me though, mental illness has been my norm from day one, all the things I have learned, that have created the person I am today, that is all that I know – so really, I am normal. Isn’t normal just an opinion otherwise?

My life has been so dramatic and unlucky that it is almost comical. In a way that I sometimes feel like I am on some version of the Trueman show. I spent a lot of my teen years using my pent-up angst to fight myself really, to find ways to numb that pain and fight to fit it – to be like everyone else, as that is what I was told would make me happy.

As a child, I swore that when I was an adult, I would have no reason to be unhappy, since all the adults I knew seemingly had it all together.

I thought my feelings would fade with age, as I was told my, now diagnosed as anxiety and depression, was just a phase. I however recently came to the realization that adults don’t have it together, they are struggling just the same as they did those many years before; they are just better at hiding it.

I’ve come to accept that I am so deep-rooted in my ways that I may never be able to completely move past my mental illness, though, it doesn’t mean that I can’t work with it. I have done so much soul searching, and I think I am really starting to accept that my past is in my past and I can learn to accept it and not let it define me, because it doesn’t.

I write all of this because it’s important to gauge just how human and ill-functioning I am. I want to put myself on the show, just so you can see how much your life can change, for better and worse. But at the end of the day, all that matters are you, your mental health and the memories which will allow you to greet death as an old friend; life doesn’t have to be one big game of life, it can just be an experience – a chance.

I’ve gone from a young girl with very little understanding of myself to a grown woman who has found more than just survival, I’ve found purpose, passion, and life. I can remember days where I would self-harm because I knew no other way to let the pain out. I remember a whole year where I drank daily, I was an alcoholic at 14 years old because I was so ashamed of the thoughts in my head. I remember suicide attempts, crying into my pillow or locking myself in toilets because I was so alone; I just needed someone to be there for me, to listen.

My life has been tragic in some ways but that has all passed, what matters now is the moments I am living in currently and the future I will soon find; my goal is to help others get to this point of thinking too.

I don’t envy those who are living a seemingly ‘healthier’ or ‘better’ life than me because really, every second that has existed in my own life, has crafted me into this person I am now. The person who has many scars that have healed beautifully, both physically and mentally. The person who has more strength, empathy, and understanding. The person who has found self-respect for herself but has also given time to help others. You see, happiness is not a state, it’s a feeling and therefore we cannot be permanently happy; we need to do more of what makes us happy and what rewards our own mind; for me, that’s helping others.

In 2014, my father passed away by suicide. It was for certain, the most traumatic event of my life, which led to three years where I was living in this state of complete shock. I stopped feeling, I stopped living and really, I felt like I had died with my father. All I wanted was to see him again, hear his voice and give him a hug like I had done pretty much every day for the last 18 years. It was all so sudden and like many suicide, survivors may understand, left me not knowing what to do with myself, or my life.

But after four years of my new life without my father. I came to this realization that I did not need to move on, why would I want to ‘move on’ from every memory, or even the existence that my father had blessed me with. Instead, I embraced the days where I would cry and miss him, I accepted that he was not coming back but instead of moving on from his death, I learned to adjust.

I was told that same year, after a conversation about the huge lack of support for people left behind after a suicide, that rather than sit and hope something changes, I could do something about it. I think many of us do complain about things in the world but very few of us actually stand up and make a difference, though, we have no guarantee that someone else will fix the problem for us. The simple phrase of “You may not change the world on your own, but you can make a change in the world” really made me think.

From there, I made the choice to write a book about the events around my father’s suicide and my journey of grief.

I named the book ‘After Suicide’ (available, FREE, here, from Smashwords) with the hope that I could provide a sense of friendship for people going through what I did, that people could feel less alone in such a difficult time; as I had felt this myself.

This book is not of literary commendation but it’s real, it’s raw and it’s relatable. There was a day that I received a message about my book in which I was told that because of me, they were still alive to be a husband and father; it was not what I expected the book to do but it made every word written worth it – one life saved is more reward than I could ever have imagined.

I did find though that I had fallen into mental health advocacy, mainly on my twitter @CUnderwoodUK, I never intended to be a voice for people with mental illness, like myself but it just happened and now I dedicate every moment of every day to trying to be there for others and fight back against the stigma.

I’ve made friends through this, I’ve built a little community and although I am helping others, I have noticed how much this has helped me – I don’t feel alone anymore and I do not feel worthless, I feel part of something great; regardless of the fact that I created it, as I only see myself as part of a family now.

I actually found that writing was a great way to help me manage my past and my own mental health. There is something so therapeutic in being able to extract some of those thoughts from your mind and see them face to face, looking at them on paper or on a screen, they just don’t seem so scary; they even make sense. I now write blog posts weekly on my blog charlotteunderwoodauthor.com.

Each blog is a battle of mine, part of the puzzle of my own brain and just the stories that have created the person that I am. I like to talk about the things that are taboo, that people don’t like to hear because more than often, these are the things that most need to be spoken about as many are suffering alone with very similar battles.

I managed to take the unfortunate events of my life and even my own fathers suicide and try to find some sort of positive from it. Although it does not take from the pain of the events, it makes it easier when there is a lesson, when it can do good and help people. In a way, learning to cope in this way has helped me accept my past. I’d like to think the best tribute to my father is through saving lives, as he saved many in his own lifetime and I hope that when I reach my own end, that my efforts would have made even a tiny change in the world; even if it was for just one person.

Life is not easy and sometimes life is not fair. We cannot control or change everything that occurs in our own lives, but we can choose how to manage our own decisions. For me, the best thing you can do is just be there for others, when we are not alone the world is not as scary; and neither are our thoughts.

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Tracing The Path To The Next Big Thing

8/11/2018

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Did you know that tracing intricate lines and patterns can be therapeutic, increase relaxation, improve focus, enhance dexterity, help memory, and create self worth and accomplishment?

No, neither did I until I came across The Tracing Co, on Twitter.

My guest blogger is 29-year-old Jason Lewis, from San Antonio in Texas, who founded activity book brand The Tracing Co. His primary job is in education, where he's a high school economics teacher, and football and soccer coach.

Over to Jason:

My story behind the creation of these activity books is as unique as the books themselves. Naturally entrepreneurial, I was studying outdated products that had a broad market with a current, growing interest. Many friends and family members of mine were into adult coloring books. Not only was coloring like reliving childhood memories and tapping into the adults’ reminiscent minds, but it was also therapeutic and relaxing.

Instead of attempting to compete with the thousands of authors that had already created numerous editions of every type of coloring book possible, I decided to create something that would offer a different product to the same market of consumers.

Arts and crafts were not my thing. As the son of two teachers and coaches, I grew up in a gym, learning the art of basketball and soccer. Most craft activities required too many materials and were too messy. The simplest art that we all do is draw.

However, I have a hard enough time drawing a stick figure. I always admired how artists could draw such neat, detailed images. It was something that intrigued me so much that I decided to make an activity book that would allow someone like me to draw a picture that only the best artists can create. Fast forward one year and I have now drawn numerous pictures like the one you see below.

Our activity books are different than any other book on the market, utilizing a step-by-step tracing technique that creates an elaborate finished piece of artwork. Our books are similar to adult coloring books, but instead of coloring an image, multiple layers and groups of intricate lines and patterns are traced to build a collaborative and detailed design.

The way it works is simple. The book will give multiple pages of grouped lines and patterns. Place the same piece of tracing paper over each page and trace the lines. When all of the lines from each group are traced, the result is a beautiful, professional quality image.

After completing my first design and marveling at what I, the one that struggled to draw a stick figure, had drawn, I realized that my books had more to offer than a simple addicting hobby. After focusing on the many meandering lines and shapes, I felt a soft sense of relaxation and a strong feeling of accomplishment.

When I thought back to my process of pen moving against paper, I could recall the order of various patterns. The accuracy of the last set of lines was much improved from the first set I attempted. It was at this point that I knew I had created a tool that could help people improve their mental health. I had created the next big thing, combining arts and crafts with mental therapy.

I experimented on family members and friends first, and after hearing that they experienced similar effects, I opened the books to the public for sale. Many customers have since reviewed the books and have confirmed the benefits that we believe exist from the step-by-step elaborate tracing process that our activity books offer. Some with mental health issues like depression and anxiety even say that they use it as a tool to clear their mind and rid stress. While we do not guarantee that performing the instructions in our book will cure mental illness, we do believe that they can help everyone in some way.

We know and are excited that we have only scratched the surface on the significant benefits that our activity books can offer. The more feedback we receive, the better that we can improve our books and the more validation that other potential customers, who could use these, get. We invite you to search for us on Amazon.

We have published three books: “Bloom” consists of floral mandalas, “Wild Life” consists of zentangle-style animals, and “Believe” is a Christmas-themed tracing book. If we are lucky enough to call you a customer, please let us know what you think. We welcome all feedback, as we are always looking to improve our product.

* The three books are available on Amazon, here.

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A Year Of GB Syndrome. The Recovery

8/1/2018

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Before you read this post from my guest blogger, Harish Rajora, you may like to read his original post here, from April:
https://stewartbintauthor.weebly.com/stewart-bints-blog/the-nightmare-of-my-life

His latest article was written on July 18th, which marks one year of having GB Syndrome, and tells what happened after he was discharged from hospital.

You can also read the entire ten-part story on his own blog here:
www.themeaninglesslife.com/

Over now to how Harish Rajora fared after coming home from hospital.

As I mentioned earlier, I was seeing double from the first day, until now. My eyes did not improve even a little for many days. Everything I used to see was double. Two doors, two mobile phones, two coffee cups; everything. The doctor said my pupils were not moving synchronously as they should be, and hence, I was seeing two images of everything.

The images are seen separately by both eyes, but our brain combines it as one. While in my case it was still two images. But he said I would be fine with time.

With time.

This is a very vague sentence. There is no specific maximum limit, nor is there any medicine. But he said I would see normally with time. Hence, I waited for "the time."

Two days after I came home after being discharged, I picked up my father's phone, opened Chrome browser and typed GB Syndrome patients case studies. I wanted to know how much time. How everyone else managed, and how much time they took. I needed to know. I needed to be prepared, at least. I read three case studies, among which the fastest anyone recovered was one year and three months. My eyes were dripping tears continuously, like a leaking tap, due to mobile radiation, but the recovery time I saw made me very upset. One year is a very long time. How will I manage? Although I had all the people one needs to be motivated, it was still something that could not be ignored. To show you how I was seeing during those days, I've attached the following picture.

Everything was double. I was seeing two televisions, and focused on only one, because otherwise it was really confusing. One month passed like this...it was 35 days since I came home and almost 50 days that I was seeing double. Then, one day, I was able to see better.

The next day it was better than that, and five days later I could see normally. I was seeing everything like I should, like everyone does. I was so happy. Finally everything was on track. I have gained muscle strength and can see better, too. On 15th September 2017 I told my doctor that I am fine now and can see very well. He was happy, too. But as the time passed and I was about to forget how I'd been seeing for two months, my eyes sudden;ly reminded me of it.

On 28th September I woke up and saw the door of my room as double. The difference was not much, but yet it was double. The next day it was more. Five days later I was at the same stage that I'd started at around two and a half months before.

I called my doctor and said I was seeing double again, to which he asked me to visit him the next day. I met him the next day. He was confuse. He has never sen such a case in which something during the recovery has reversed. I was speechless.

He referred me to the ophthalmologist. After three or four tests I met the doctor. She said: "I think one eye has gained strength more than the other which is causing this trouble. Earlier they were both weak, so you were seeing normal." She gave me artificial teardrops and said: "I think it will be fine with time." Again, with time.

My college was over and my health was not good enough to apply for a job. I was seeing normal with one eye closed but not with both of them open. I decided to appear for GATE examination. I filled out the form during October. I remember my tears dropping continuously while filling the form, due to laptop radiation. But it was necessary for me. In the next days I started studying with one eye closed, but it was disturbing like hell. It is really not easy to study or focus with one eye closed; you can try reading this post like that, to understand.

I ordered an eye patch to place on one of the lenses of my specs. That eased my trouble. I started studying with the patch while tears dropping from one eye always. I continuously used to change the patch to the other eye to gain strength in both.

In a few days the two images I saw of the television was of different shades of colour now. One image was light and one was dark. How can I see one image dark and one light? How can they be merged then by my brain? I googled it, and it was a big mistake. From the first result till the last, every article, every post and every case hinted to cataract. These things happen to the people who have cataract. It is always a big mistake googling anything like this. Since then I have not googled anything about any symptoms of any disease.

In mid November 2017, after four months of double vision, four months of abnormally watching this beautiful world, four months of living like someone who can see but still can't appreciate anything, my eyes were seeing fine.

Finally I could see like you all do. It was a journey of pain, patience and perseverance. How all these qualities have developed in my, only I know. You cannot know the pain of seeing abnormally for a week until forced to, like I was. I was restless. I was patient. Two months later I appeared for my exam with my trapezius muscle still week. I was, and am, proud that I cleared my exam after all those difficulties. I did everything on my own. Studying with one eye closed. Till the final counter of exam I was struggling. I finally won. Adversities make you stronger.

Although no-one in the exam hall knew, there was a boy sitting with them who was lying on a bed just six months ago. Who filled the application form with one eye closed. I finally completed my walk to this road of recovery.

Today is 18th July. It marks one year of GB Syndrome. I am proud to say that I recovered in five months. While others started walking in 6-7 months. I was running in six months. It was a tough road. It was a rough road. I have learned to fight. I have learned to rise. Everybody falls at one time or another, but you lose the battle when you refuse to rise again.

Believe me, no-one will, and can, understand the pain you are suffering through, but as a matter of fact no-one will be as strong as you will be afterwards. Today is 18th July. It marks the start of a fight I won. Thank you for being with me throughout this journey that I narrated. Thank you for staying and listening to me. If you could connect to me throughout the series, there is nothing better than that.

If I could connect and inspire even one person, the purpose of writing my story is served.

Today is 18th July. Today, I rest my case.

Thank you.

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Guinness World Record Attempt - Barefoot!

7/21/2018

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By my guest blogger, Matthew Strange

Shortly after spring has sprung in March 2019, I will be attempting a life-long dream – to have my name in the Guinness Book of World Records.

I will be attempting to break the record for the “Longest Barefoot Journey.” The current record stands at 1,292.54 miles.

Every year since 1998, back when the book used to be number 1 on my Christmas list, I collected the Guinness Book of World Records. From the tender age of 6 years old, I would spend hours on end staring with amazement at the incredible individuals and their bizarre talents. People breaking records for the most beans eaten with chopsticks, most toilet seats broken with the head and the heaviest weight carried by the tongue – I admired every single person who was the world’s best at their talent, no matter how obscene.

So, about 8 months ago, after returning from the worst experience of my life in Dubai, I decided the time was right for me and I wanted to do something amazing in memory of my late step-dad Simon, in aid of St Catherine’s Hospice.

To fully understand the reason, the route I’m taking and significance of the journey first we need to rewind back to 2015.

Simon had been diagnosed terminally ill with cancer and was later admitted to St Catherine’s Hospice in 2015 after taking a significant turn for the worse. I was living in Spain and working in Gibraltar at the time. That is one phone call I will never forget.

The race was on; I needed to get home in the shortest possible time. I booked a same day, direct flight from Gibraltar to Manchester… You didn’t think it would be that easy did you?

Of course not, due to the infamous winds circling Gibraltar all flights were cancelled, a lot later on in the day after numerous delays. A full day wasted.

Not to worry, surely there are many different ways to get back I thought to myself... No flights from Malaga for the next 3 days. Not ideal at all.

I needed to think outside of the box, how else could I get back?

By boat!

At 2 a.m. I found a ferry leaving first thing in the morning, only an hour’s drive away and taking me to the south of England. Far from perfect but the best option available. Without hesitation I booked it. Only after payment was taken I was informed the ticket must be printed and they wouldn’t accept the E-Ticket that was sent to my email. My heart sank; I didn’t have a printer due to the number of internet cafes in the area, it had never seemed worthwhile. None of these opened before departure.

Damn, surely it was just a warning on the website I thought, to make it easier for them. Once they hear my struggle and see the time I purchased the ticket they will understand. It’s not like I haven’t paid for a ticket…

They didn’t, I was refused boarding and watched the ferry sail away in to the distance. I sat and cried for a while, letting it all out, I needed to get my head straight.

Returning to Gibraltar I knew I needed to find a plan Z and fast. I looked at every possible mode of transport, with planes still not taking off from Gibraltar and another 2 days until any departures from Malaga.

This is how I returned home, the fastest route available at the time believe it or not!

3 hour bus from La Linea to Malaga
2.5 hour train from Malaga to Madrid, Spain
1.5 hour flight from Madrid to Brussels, Belgium
1 hour flight from Brussels to Manchester, England.

Exhausted, emotionally drained and fatigued I arrived in Manchester, but crucially I had arrived in time! I got the train directly to Preston and was reunited with my family at St Catherine’s Hospice. I was so grateful to have had the precious time I was given.

The staff at St Catherine’s Hospice astonished me, the genuine love, care and attention they provide is astonishing. Simon commented himself, how amazed he was with the staff and the facilities. Remarkably they even had us laughing at a time were laughing seemed so hard.

I will be forever grateful to St Catherine’s Hospice and I intend to fundraise on their behalf throughout my life, having already completed a sponsored Skydive!

Surprisingly, my application for the “The Longest Barefoot Journey” was accepted the day before the anniversary of Simon’s passing. It felt like Simon was giving us some good news and positivity with the timing. It also felt to me personally that he was giving me his approval and wishing me the best for the upcoming challenge. They sent me a massive “Book of Guidelines” that I need to follow, but in short, there are 7 rules I need to follow in order for my record to be accepted. They are:

I must be completely barefoot for the entirety – Prohibiting the use of plasters, bandages and walking aids.
I must have the start and finish attended by two independent witnesses, both completing full witness statements.
To carry a witness log book and have further independent witnesses complete witness statements daily.
I must carry a log book and update everything, encounters, witnesses, distances travelled.
I must track the entire journey using a professional GPS tracking device, showing timestamps, distance travelled and speed of movement.
I must film the entire journey, every single step.
I must take a photo of the exact moment when I beak the current World Record.

I did my due diligence – hours and hours of research – So I could find a route linked to my experience that breaks the world record. This is the route I’ve had accepted by the Guinness World Records:

Gibraltar
Madrid, Spain
Paris, France
Brussels, Belgium
Calais, France
Dover, England
St Catherine’s Hospice, Lostock Hall, England.

The route is a total of 1,720 miles, it will take 3 months, walking 20 miles per day, six days a week. That’s if it goes to plan! Otherwise it could take up to 6 months if I only manage 10 miles per day. I have completed a 20 mile walk in training so that will certainly be my target.

With only 8 months to go until the first step, I’m now deep into my training and pretty much live barefoot now.

I set myself 10 Barefoot Challenges to complete in the 10 months leading up to my Guinness World Record Attempt to help raise awareness, additional funds and give me training that I will need if I am to be successful.

All my challenges, training and the attempt itself will be uploaded to all my social media channels. Just search @MrMatthewStrange on YouTube, Facebook and Instagram or @MrMStrange on Twitter to stay up to date.

I have already climbed England’s Tallest Mountain, (Scafell Pike) barefoot and had a St Catherine’s Hospice tattoo across my feet!

This is just the beginning; together we can do something special.

5 Countries | 4 charity | 3 months | 2 bare feet | 1 Guinness World Record.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A graduate from the University of Life, and owner of MrMatthewStrange.com, Matthew Strange has encountered situations that most people wouldn’t even dream of, not even in their nightmares.

Whether removing leaches from his genitals in a rainforest in Thailand, or being held (wrongly!) captive by the working girls of Amsterdam, Matthew Strange always seems to end up in unusual situations.

Follow his journey here:
YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter.

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You Really Don't Want To Get Hold Of The Wrong End Of The Stick - Believe Me, You Don't.

7/14/2018

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Wishing my daughter well for her recent dance show with the usual phrase: “break a leg,” got me thinking. Where do some of our enigmatic sayings and phrases come from?

Such as: “Got hold of the wrong end of the stick,” “fell off the wagon,” and indeed, the origins of that wonderful word “cliché”? We all use them without really thinking. But what is their true meaning from the dim and distant past?

I’ve actually held a cliché in my hand. Well, a cliché tray, anyway, in the mid 1970s. While it originally stemmed from a 19th Century French verb "clicher", which roughly means to stereotype, the word became popular in the printing industry. Newspaper typesetters realised that certain journalists used the same phrases over and over again, and kept them in a special tray of type, which they simply pulled out and slotted in while they were making up the page.

No-one really knows where many of our everyday sayings came from, but here are a couple of popular theories or myths:

Break a leg has many possible origins, including the quaint belief that by wishing someone bad luck, the opposite will occur. The most plausible, however, seems to revolve around encores. In traditional stage curtains, the legs of the curtain were constructed from long wooden rods. In the case of many encores, curtains would be lifted and dropped numerous times causing them to break.

The wrong end of the stick: I’ll leave it to your imagination to finish the end of the story. Toilet paper hadn’t been invented in Roman times, so they used a sponge on a stick…

Falling off the wagon: During Prohibition in 19th century America, men often climbed onto wagons and took an oath they would give up alcohol and drink only water. This gave rise to the expression ‘to be on the wagon.’ And when they broke their pledge and started hitting the bottle again, they were said to have ‘fallen off the wagon.’

I’ll drink to that.

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The House That Hid

7/8/2018

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As you all know by now, I have more than a passing interest in ghosts and the supernatural, which is why a lot of my fiction revolves around other-worldly matters.

But, as they say, fact is often stranger than fiction.

My guest blogger today is fellow novelist Marta Moran Bishop, who has extensive experience in this fascinating field. I'm sure you'll be blown away by her post here, The House That Hid.

The House That Hid, by Marta Moran Bishop

It was an odd period in my life, the night I first met Mike and his sister Sarah and saw ‘That House.’

You see, I had friends one might call a bit different, though on the surface most of them would appear to be very down to earth types.

D, was a Chicago probation officer, who worked in the court system for the Cook County Sheriffs office. She had long black hair, was ultra-thin, spoke six or seven languages fluently and by all appearances was a normal young woman rising in the sheriff’s department. I don’t remember how or where I met her, but she introduced me years earlier to Nikki, a musician. Nikki is one of the kindest women I’ve ever met, with a heart of gold, but if I was feeling a bit of a weirdo, all I had to do was hang around Nikki for a few hours and I’d feel and if I was the most normal person on the planet.

The night D, introduced Nikki and me to Mike and his sister Sarah, was a warm, humid Chicago night. Mike was a contractor, you know the type of person who ‘if I can’t see it or feel it,’ it doesn’t exist. He was of average height and on the stocky side. But nevertheless, a nice unassuming man. I guess he took Richard Crow’s ghost-tour that night because of ‘That House.’ Things had changed for Mike after he bought ‘That House,’ though one could debate whether it was for the good or not.

The stars shimmered overhead, and the ghost tour on Lake Michigan, began quietly enough, each of us waiting to see something odd as we chatted and got to know each other. An uneventful, and fun as any get together on a crowded boat with perfect strangers could be. Perhaps, as Richard said, Ghosts don’t usually make as many appearances in warm weather, though I don’t know this to be true.

After the tour, Richard invited the five of us to have a late-night bite to eat at the Billy Goat Tavern; which was frequented by reporters and television stars. Among them Mike Roko, and many from the crew of SNL.

The Billy Goat Tavern (pictured below) was located between the Chicago Sun-Times and The Chicago Tribune buildings on the lower level and what one would definitely-call a dive. The food was so-so, the atmosphere definitely old Chicago, it was built in 1934 and said to be the beginning of the Cubs Curse.

Our conversation revolved around ghosts and those that Richard had researched and became famous. The ghosts included Resurrection Mary (pictured below) as well as many of the most haunted sites in Chicago including the Red Lion Pub (pictured below).

At about twelve o'clock the subject of Mike's house came up.

Mike had bought 'That House' about six months earlier. It was built somewhere around the late eighteen-hundreds to the early nineteen-hundreds and was rumored to have been built on top of an old Native American burial ground and once owned by Al Capone’s gang (pictured below).

Standing on a large lot, white with a porch and a smallish second story, but the basement floor was dirt and not quite deep enough to put a hot water tank or furnace into it. That house was in quite a state of disrepair and needed much updating as none had been done since around nineteen hundred and forty or so.

When Mike bought it and began the renovations. Sarah, was living in the one completed room in the house and though nice enough, seemed overly quiet. Not in a shy sort of way, but in a not quite themselves way. It was difficult to pinpoint the oddity of her shyness, but by all accounts, it had begun when she moved into that house.

As with many homes built in that era, the basement was dirt and quite shallow. Too shallow to install today’s water heaters and furnace units, so the first thing Mike had to do was dig out a portion of the floor to allow for the taller units. It was during this that he found the lime pit with the remains of human bones. Of course, he called the police, who determined that the bones were both too old and due to the lime, degraded past being able to identify them. But, it was suspected their origination was during the years that Al Capone’s gang used the house.

It was during this time that things began to get really crazy in that house. Mike was the sort that laid his tools out in the order he would be using them. But that changed as the tools began moving, he’d reach for one and find another in its place. Frustrated with this, Mike began double checking his layouts, all the while believing he must have laid them out incorrectly. And he began to look at them all the time. At first, he couldn’t believe his eyes, when he began to see them moving of their own accord. Though it would only get weirder. No longer were they moving, but as he worked they began flying around the room. It was as if some unseen people were playing toss the ball or something similar. It was after that that Mike and Sarah invited the first psychic investigator to the house.

As I had never met either Mike or Sarah before, I was skeptical of his story, though did attempt to keep an open mind. If he hadn’t asked us back to the house that night, I would probably have remained skeptical.

But for what came later at the house. The first thing I noticed during his tour, was the cold spots in the house, though I did put them off to the possibility of drafts. Though it was a warm evening with little breeze, my mind wanted to believe it was drafts or the result of all the ghost story talk. It wasn’t until we finally got to the basement that I knew it was not drafts.

There were no windows in the basement, no access into it other than through the main house and it was no cooler than any other basement at that time of year. After Mike showed us what remained of the bones after the cops had removed most of them, Nikki, Mike, and I stood and talked about all that Mike had experienced since he bought that house. As we talked an icy-cold breeze swept in and around the three of us. I spooked, and just hiked it up the stairs, leaving Mike and Nikki to follow.

It was all I could do to even say goodbye to Mike and Sarah. I barely thanked them and turned to Nikki and said we must go now! I know I was being a chicken. I’ll tell you honestly, I couldn’t help it. There was something or things that meant harm in that house.

I must have appeared very rude, when I hightailed it to Nikki’s car, leaving the three of them standing on the porch chatting.

As I sat in the car waiting and watching them on the porch, I noticed the figure upstairs, sitting by the window in Sarah’s bedroom, and the string like light that seemed to join that old woman to Sarah. I admit, it was the strangest thing I had ever seen, and I believed I must be imagining things. I would have put it onto drink, but I hadn’t had a drink that night, nor am I much of a drinker.

I just sat there and watched for a few minutes, until the old woman turned her head, her gaze left Sarah and she looked straight at me. The moment our eyes met, I was filled with such horror, something so alien to anything I had ever experienced or even thought of, seemed to be in her eyes. It felt as if my energy was somehow being tapped, to give her strength, leaving me empty of what was me. I was being robbed of life and I knew it.

Panic set in, as I managed to pull my gaze away from her and laid my hand on the horn loudly. I didn’t think about whether-or-not I would wake the neighbors, cause a commotion or anything except to get Nikki over to the car. I had to leave and NOW. Luckily for me, Nikki did come and quickly, I think I just said, drive. I don’t remember much until we were off that street, though I felt the presence of that old woman in the car with us as Nikki drove me home.

I felt the presence of that old woman throughout the night and couldn’t shake it. The next morning, I told my mother about the experience and she wanted to at least drive by the house. After a while I agreed, we would that afternoon, after I had done some research to find out what that old woman might be.

It was during my research that I learned of Sentinels, they are a sort of spirit that keeps the most malignant of the other ghosts in a place in check. The problem is they grow old, though it usually takes decades or sometimes centuries for that to happen. From what I read, how long it takes is usually decided by how many people they can draw energy from, and she had been alone for a very long time. She needed a replacement and I feared from what I witnessed she had picked Sarah. By all accounts, before Sarah had moved into that house, she was an outgoing young woman. Not at all like the quiet, introverted woman that I met.

That afternoon, my mother and I drove to the house, or at least to the place where that house should have been. But it took three or four circles up and down that street before we could find the house. It just wasn’t there, the first few times we drove by it. It only took my mother one minute and one look at the house, before she said to me, “get out of here.” It was during the trip home that she said, she believed there was not just a few, but many, many malignant spirits in that house and that it needed an exorcism badly. She wasn’t even sure that would work, but without it, people would die, at least Sarah would for sure. Sarah would be trapped in that house forever if it wasn’t done. I called Mike and told him what I suspected and gave him my advice on the matter. I didn’t hear back from Mike for nearly a year. It had been late summer when I first saw that house and early the next summer, when I finally received a call from Mike, inviting me to a barbeque.

Apparently, he had finally finished the renovations and yes, they had, had the house exorcised. Not once but by three different groups of people including a Catholic priest.

The day of the barbeque, I re-met, Mike and Sarah. Sarah was a completely changed woman, gone was the quiet, introverted woman and in her place, I found a normal, young woman, interested in men, dating, recipes, the new baby that her sister had. In other words, Sarah was herself again. The house was bright and cheery, without a hint of a ghost of any kind, nor did I feel the presence of that old woman again.

Believe it or not, this is a true story.

Connect with Marta Moran Bishop:
Website: www.martamoranbishop.com/
Twitter: twitter.com/moranbishop

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