Wednesday, 9 September 2009

August 5th 2009 (Or 'Grumble, moan, no chocolate')

On August 5th I turned 25 and with that came a sense of dissatisfaction.

I'm not where I was expecting to be, I'm not who I was planning to be.

I can remember thinking when I was 19, "by the time I'm 23 I'll have a six pack". Now while who I am physically is something I've thought about, it's not the be all and end all. I think it's that I thought I need to get my arse into gear on pretty much all areas of my life and that just happened to pop into my mind.

Currently, even though I am working, I'm not in the job I want to be in. While I take an active role at church, I feel, no, I realise and know I'm not anywhere near where I should be in my relationship with God. Actually, let's be honest, I've been a fraud, free-wheeling and just getting by. My actions haven't, for a long time, matched what is expected of me (whether from just people I know or from God). I haven't been a good representation of the Groom and I've made the Bride out to be ugly.

In the last year, I've got drunk and into a state that I'm ashamed of. I developed a foul mouth and tenancy to get impatient with people. I haven't been loving. I tried weed again (it's still a stupid idea, God only knows why I even bothered.) I tried and wasted afternoons sniffing poppers (which seems on par with sniffer marker pens). I've held grudges and talked about people behind their backs, I haven't been encouraging open discussion, just back biting. I've held conversations which are quite frankly filthy and laughed along with jokes that have no place in this mind of mine.

I wrote the above a good few weeks ago.

I'll save myself the waffle and try to bullet point a bit more.

I wrote the above paragraph and then completely ignored it.

I found a photo this photo a week back. I used to love those shirts. That's me holding my cousin John. I think I'm about 12. I had this urge, I wanted to talk to this 12 year old me. I wanted to encourage him not to worry to much about what people said to him. I would tell him he didn't have patchy skin on his face. Tell him no one could really notice he was wearing one shoe bigger than the other. I would tell him it didn't matter that he didn't use Lynx (because he didn't really need it yet). I would encourage him to spend more time with his grand parents. Climb more trees! I would tell him not to volunteer to go abseiling first in the Lake District and also not to run his thumb along the blade of John James' pen knife. I would tell him about high school, advise him on the people to avoid, the people he should listen to. I would tell him where his bag was hidden. I would encourage him to do his homework and practice guitar with him. I would tell him to make sure he got a back up of his gcse art exam because it would end up being deleted and he would feel terrible for it. I would tell him that flicking the contents of a hole punch, while amusing, is alot more trouble than it's worth. I would tell him that in the summer of 2002 he would make a massive mistake and he would know what I meant when the time came, I would tell him to walk home.
There was so much I would say.

And it hit me.

The past 13 years have gone by so quickly. In fact I feel like the past 21 years have zoomed by. I remember clear as a bell my 4th birthday, the green cake, the magic candles, the scooter, my mum and grandparents were there, played with the dog in the garden. Had p.e that day, I so was still wearing my p.e kit.

So what's my point here?

The first 25 years went so incredibly fast and I know it sounds like I'm being over dramatic, but alot of it seems like it's been a waste. I don't want to get to the next 25 years and find a picture of me now and want to say things. I want this next block to count, I don't want it to pass me by like this first one feels like it has.

So where am I starting?

Well, I'm starting at the place easiest to achieve. Diet.
On the 5th of august I cut out chocolate, pastry, sweets, puddings, alcohol, crisps and other fried food. I'll be honest, I ate 3 chocolate cookies on a sams night shift. I ate fish and chips on the weekend I moved home and a slice of ginger bread at Soul Survivor. I don't plan on stopping this any time this year.

I'm trying to cycle more over driving.

I want to be in a proper job earning a decent wage by Christmas. I've got my MCDST exam booked for late October, I chose late October because I want to make sure I definitely pass first time.

I want to make sure I've moved out by Christmas.

I want to get rid of the scooter I have and get an actual car.

I want to see the prophetic words that have been spoken over me start to come to fruition.

I can't help but feel I'm repeating myself and that doesn't sit too well either. I feel a sense of dissatisfaction with this post, I feel there's alot more to be said. But maybe I need to be focusing on living the life not writing about it.

So that's me, I'm 25. Best get a shifty on.


Dave, if you're reading as a way of looking back on the past year(s), what have you done to achieve what you talked about? Don't let this be yet another talky blog post with not much of a result.


And yes, I know, he is an ugly baby. You thought the same thing when you found the picture, while you were scanning it and just before you wrote this note after checking for spelling.


sparkles said...

Love you Dave! Found that post encouraging.

Hannah said...

Don't ever change, Dave. I mean, try to better yourself and stuff, but don't ever change because you are awesome and you don't need a six-pack for that.