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Non-alcoholic Update: 25 Years Without A Drink

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  I wrote a blog post in 2020. It was all about my attempts to give up booze after being hospitalised in January 2000. I was quite proud of being teetotal for two decades.  It's now five years later and I still haven't fallen off the wagon (yay! Go me!).  25 years in total. It doesn't get any easier. In fact, the last five years have pushed me right to the edge on a whole bunch of occasions.  About three years ago, local NHS Mental Health services decided they couldn't do anything for me. They said I'd tried " everything" and there were no more " clinical pathways " open to me. They told me I'd have to seek help from ' third sector partners'.  In other words - charities. Instead of Psychiatric Nurses, Psychologists, Psychiatrists, Therapists or CBT Practitioners, they told me to call helplines staffed by volunteers. And why? I made the big, stupid mistake of complaining. Just before the first Covid lockdown I'd been assigned a Co...
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Woodham, Comprehensive (1984-2024)

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They're tearing down my old school. Last July there were lots of posts on Facebook, inviting former staff and pupils to take one last look . They were even organising guided tours. I was a pupil at Woodham Comprehensive for 7 years, from Autumn 1984 to Summer 1991. I took all of my ' important' exams there. I really didn't know if I should go back.  I didn't have many happy memories but the place had been a huge part of my childhood.  I'd really enjoyed my time at Primary School. In particular, my final year at Woodham Burn Juniors was great.  Mr Morley (my teacher) and Mr Robson (the Headmaster) both resembled characters from The Wind In The Willows . They were jovial and welcoming like Ratty or Toad but also had the ability to be stern and authoritative like Badger. It was probably the last time I felt safe at school. There was a warm, almost familial atmosphere - at least that's how I like to remember it. But then, we were told it was time to go to Big S...
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Slum's The Word (1988)

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I grew up in Newton Aycliffe. I always thought it was a complete shit hole but to be honest, I never really got to know the place. Most of the time it felt like I was under house arrest.  My family moved there in 1975 because my Dad was a Policeman. We'd moved around quite a bit, living briefly in lots of places around County Durham - Thornley, Peterlee, Darlington and finally Newton Aycliffe. I've always assumed it was because Dad was being promoted and having to work at different Police Stations but I honestly don't know.   I was only two when we moved into Arncliffe Place. We lived right on the edge of a huge council estate and close to a tiny trickle of a stream called The Burn.  One of my earliest memories is of watching some workmen building the climbing frame in the little play-park near to where we lived. It seemed to sink a lot further into the ground than they were expecting.  At that time, all of the council estates were designed to include communal areas ...
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