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Friday, 30 January 2015


Readers of yesterday’s blog will remember that I mentioned extreme tiredness hitting me when I least expected it. If you follow me on social media you will be aware (from the timing of my posts) that I am a nocturnal person and I usually survive on four hours sleep a night. This sleep pattern catches up with me every so often and causes my body to shut down completely, usually without warning, and last night was one such occasion.

I had been looking forward to a gig last night at the Tap & Tumbler that wasn’t scheduled to start until nine o’clock and I had been looking forward to seeing both bands on the bill for the first time. Madeline Rust was the headliner with Thin Raft as support, both bands I have been aware of for some time and have played on either the radio or podcast at various times so to see them performing at last was a gig that I couldn’t possibly miss. If you have guessed that I fell asleep and missed it, you are ahead of me and don’t really need to carry on reading today’s blog unless you are in need of more detail.

Once I arrived home from Crown Court having collected Jack from my dad’s house on the way it was time for dinner. We ate in the living room while watching Eastenders and my intention was to have a quick shower at eight o’clock before leaving the house just after half past eight – what could possibly go wrong? What went wrong is that after Eastenders finished I didn’t move from the sofa immediately. It was as if my body had been drained of all motivation and energy in one swift move and I foolishly decided to have a fifteen minute power nap, something that I normally find refreshing and can recharge my batteries sufficiently.

At four o’clock this morning I was still on the sofa with Jack cuddled up to me fast asleep and presumably siphoning off my body heat because I was freezing cold and dead down one side of my body as a result of sleeping in an uncomfortable position. Mandi has learned over the years that if I fall asleep there is no point trying to wake me as I am dead to the world, especially if it happens when I have been both working hard and in a depressive episode, so she was in bed. I didn’t bother ringing the Tap & Tumbler to ask if the gig was still on, so I cursed myself for missing out on a night of live music with nothing replacing it as compensation. My body and brain obviously needed to catch up and had chosen an inopportune time, although it could have been worse I suppose – I could have been driving a train full of passengers at high speed or performing a life saving heart operation. How fortunate that I am neither a qualified train driver nor heart surgeon.

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This week’s edition of The Sunday Alternative is here.