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The Bastard Noose: Food, Family, Friends

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The Bastard Noose Mental Health Ward: Food, Family, Friends My Grandad O'Reilly, apart from being the reason I can never spell my mother’s maiden name, had an important saying: Faith, Family, Friends. It is a good mantra and one I hope to adhere to as closely as I am able. My problem is that I’m an atheist, but I’m just about grown up enough to appreciate how important faith is to a lot of my family. I wanted to replace the F of Faith, and I decided on food. No, I wasn’t going there, get your mind out the gutter. It’s probably pretty obvious if you’ve read the other The Bastard Noose entries that I love food. Eating and cooking (particularly cooking- I’ll happily make food and not eat it) are things I enjoy extremely. Obviously making meals, past lukewarm posh Pot-Noodles, was not an option on the ward. I’ve talked about the ubiquitous cabbage and even toast had to be prepared by someone who wouldn’t try to eat the toaster, or however you kill yourself with a toaster. Recently, a f

The Bastard Noose: Car Alarms

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The Bastard Noose Mental Health Ward: Car Alarms My notes say “I was anxious on entry. I wasn't scared, I was suicidal, what were they going to do, kill me?” This is me lying to myself, I was a bit of both anxious and scared. Although I didn’t fear for my life, I feared the unknown. My anxiety was about settling in. It didn't take long to, and now I was more comfortable I was taking a lot more of my environment in. A nurse came into my room and forwardly asked “for a chat” to say they hadn’t checked my sexuality yet. Even in my confused state i t seemed an odd move given no other nurses barged into rooms, apropos of nothing. Is this the norm, hours after all the fucking checks and questioning about minutiae of one's being, to come into people’s rooms to ask them whether they prefer front hole or back hole? It was also his only question and therefore his opener and closer. There was no foreplay, so to speak. Even with my flat feet my sexuality is irrelevant and also the way

The Bastard Noose: Settling Into the ward

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The Bastard Noose Mental Health Ward A hiatus from The Bastard Noose was due to my feeling good and thus aware I was a self important prick imposing his moaning on you about things in the past. Also after a while I'd totally blasted the whole experience from my mind. Given where we're at, good thing Google didn't delete my memories, eh! I write The Bastard Noose to contemplate and examine but I always hope to have some happy come from it. Looking back at past posts I’m not entirely pleased with many of them and I wonder why I let it slop back and forth in my head only to throw shit out my fingers. Writing up my notes to force on you began to feel pointless. I worry it's a waste of my time (and yours).  But then if you never worry about anything you’re probably a prick. It is perhaps ironic that what I consider to be a relatively upbeat piece has come at the worst time I’ve had since going into hospital. My brain is wrongly wired and sadly my body listens to it. A y

Recipe: It's (probably) good for you immuno drink

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Ingredients 8 lemons (all the lemons you can fight for at Tesco), two hand size pieces of ginger, ¼ that amount of fresh turmeric, you can use the powdered stuff but fresher the better, and if you have a need to bring mucus up or want to have a fiery poo, throw in some cayenne pepper. Cooking time: 45 minutes After my culinary forays into Ensure and fusilli I though I'd bring some full on fuck you flu fun Method Buzzwords such as wellness,   immunopositive and christhisisspicylemonjuice have been bandied around about this drink. Mainly by me. They may or may not be accurate buzzwords, but It does taste a lot like lemons. This lemon (forewarned), ginger and turmeric drink could well be good for you. I’m not a doctor but I’m also not sick and enjoy conning myself that putting things in me makes for good health. I did ask a doctor about the science involved but he said he was busy and to stop wasting his time. Full of stuff that’s probably beneficial to humans

The Mental Health Ward: First Impressions

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The Bastard Noose The Mental Health Ward: First Impressions Click here for Part One of The Mental Health Ward: Informal Inpatient “But you don't [engage with mentally disturbed people], because they seem frightening and irritating, they seem dangerous a lot of the time… and you know if you make eye contact, all those problems in his head will be yours too.” Doug Stanhope Doug Stanhope’s words reverberated. I was shell shocked walking out into gen pop tired and without savvy. I didn’t know these humans and frankly, really frankly, I didn’t want to get to know them. The environment was a mystery and after my arrival under darkness these nut nuts , screaming and shouting were not people I wanted to befriend. I didn’t shout. I didn’t kick and scream, I shouldn’t have been there. I didn’t see myself as that ill by comparison. They all looked at me, the problems in their heads waiting to be mine too. My head is full, no room at the inn. ALL THE BASTARD NOOSE PO

The Mental Health Ward: Informal Inpatient

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The Bastard Noose The Mental Health Ward: Informal Inpatient I hated writing this post. Originally it was all in the third person, but I decided it was too detached and out of line with what I've written of The Bastard Noose so far, so changed it to this; which I'm not sure is better. Going over my notes from that time a year ago, it is pretty obvious I was in a weird place, literally and metaphorically. The tone and my engagement with my experiences bounce around some. After eight days I finally got what I wanted, a transfer to a mental health ward elsewhere in London. CLICK HERE FOR EARLIER PARTS OF THE BASTARD NOOSE After darkness had ripped the bright lights of the Emergency Department from my eyes, I was thrown into the sensory stasis of a hospital transport van. Dull blue light sat coldly in the back, the quiet journey through a seemingly empty London indescribably lonely. Although I had an ascribed escort in the back with me, he said nothing and neither

Hooked on True Crime: Documentaries

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Apparently in my middle age* I’ve begun obsessively documenting everything like Kevin Spacey in Seven. I’m not a serial killer though. Yes I have the time for it (or else why would I be writing this), I just don’t have the inclination or nerve. I imagine driving round with three dead bodies in your boot is kind of nervy. Why three you ask? More fun than two. I imagine. With three bodies in the car though you better hope you paid the congestion charge. Also I don’t drive, so those bodies would be hard to shift. Plus there’s the whole alibi thing. The practicalities of serial killing really are a pain in the arse. I imagine. Where podcasts largely tell you about crime, documentaries are much more emotive. True crime docs are diverse and differ in approach and style. Some are 90 minutes, some are 10 episodes. This list doesn’t exclude based on format, it is limited to what I’ve seen, liked and want to recommend- I’ve tried to mix the list up a bit. The word Netflix crops up a l