Do You Need Attention Training?

In 2025 we are awash with distractions, mostly from our smartphones. We fill our SD cards with apps for different websites, which then ping off to notify us of things that are largely irrelevant to our everyday lives. Sometimes it’s a reply to something we’ve said online, but a lot of the time it’s something a friend has done that isn’t relevant to us, an annoying feature that has emerged on various platforms in the last few years. Add to that the addictive nature of doomscrolling – largely on Instagram – and before you know it you’ve spent 5 hours on your phone doing very little (which can be confirmed by another available app that monitors your screen time). 

Away from phones, there are other screens- TVs, computers – at home and at work – there are distractions in the office, in the lounge, in bars. Your focus is constantly being syphoned off by a multitude of sources. 

Have we forgotten how to pay attention? It seems that I possibly have. I’ve received some treatment for anxiety in recent weeks. A long-standing problem, my habit of letting my brain shoot off in different directions has been contributing to spikes in my anxiety for decades. 

The NHS have helped me with this a little bit. Dr C has encouraged me to try to develop tunnel vision, to focus on the individual I’m speaking to, or to the task at hand. He’s suggesting I try not to absorb everything that’s happening, meaning my mind shoots off on tangents, but to focus deeply on one thing, what’s most important, and forget the rest. 

I doubt I’m the only person who thinks that’s easier said than done, and it seems I’m right – Dr C showed me some YouTube videos called Attention Training, an audiovisual tool designed to develop a deeper focus on the one thing that you’re trying to do. Whether you’re trying to quell anxiety in conversations (like I am) or focus deeper on a piece of work (which I also am) or some other task that involves ignoring distractions, the Attention Training will, in theory, help to tune out the noise and allow you to think clearly and control your emotions. 

See also, Attention Gym. 

These videos have millions of hits, and the comments show that other therapists worldwide, not just mine, are recommending these videos. Some are purely audio, some are purely visual, some a mix of both. 

The videos all follow a similar formula: many different things happen at once, with instructions requiring you to focus on one of these things. A small shape appears on a black screen and moves across it. You’re asked to follow it with your eyes. Soon, other shapes in different colours join the frame, and move in different ways designed to distract you – they spin, they turn, they rebound of the corners of the screen like a 90s screensaver. But we’re still asked to focus on the original shape, to ignore the distractions and stay focussed on the task at hand. 

The audio-emphasis exercises are loaded with similar distraction. The video – a black screen with text - will start with a ticking clock. A car’s engine will intrude on the sound, then a steam train, then you’ll be transported aurally to a greasy spoon cafeteria. These sounds will overlap, but your task is to read the text instructions and focus on whichever sound is described on screen. You need to identify the matching sound and cut out the cacophony from your mind. It’s no easy task. With time, though, I should be able to focus more deeply and not have my mind wonder off into some irrelevant thought or stressing over whether I’m doing it right. 

So, how is this relevant to real life? 

Concentration span has always been an issue for me, right from infant class. I’m now 43, and I’m still drifting off at times. For example, I’m embarrassed how long this blog post has taken to write, to be honest. Dr C has advised that not only will a deeper, narrower focus help me to understand things, it means the anxiety – over whether I’m good enough for the people I’m talking to, whether I’m ‘fitting in,’ whether memory difficulties are marking me out as different in some way – will be quietened as my attention will be on the other person in the conversation, not myself. 

These things might sound like ridiculous things to stress over, but when you strip everything away, this is my underlying problem. 

It would be a good idea to blog again on this issue in a month’s time, to see whether there’s any real-world changes to my attention and mental state. 

In the meantime, have a go yourself.

Attention Training to Combat Anxiety

In 2025 we are awash with distractions, mostly from our smartphones. We fill our SD cards with apps for different websites, which then ping off to notify us of things that are largely irrelevant to our everyday lives. Sometimes it’s a reply to something we’ve said online, but a lot of the time it’s something a friend has done that isn’t relevant to us, an annoying feature that has emerged on various platforms in the last few years. 

Add to that the addictive nature of doomscrolling – largely on Instagram – and before you know it you’ve spent 5 hours on your phone doing very little (which can be confirmed by another available app that monitors your screen time). Away from phones, there are other screens- TVs, computers – at home and at work – there are distractions in the office, in the lounge, in bars. Your focus is constantly being syphoned off by a multitude of sources. 

Have we forgotten how to pay attention? 

It seems that I possibly have. I’ve received some treatment for anxiety in recent weeks. A long-standing problem, my habit of letting my brain shoot off in different directions has been spiking my anxiety for decades. The NHS have helped me with this a little bit. Dr C has encouraged me to try to develop tunnel vision, to focus on the individual I’m speaking to, or to the task at hand. He’s suggesting I try not to absorb everything that’s happening, meaning my mind shoots off on tangents, but to focus deeply on one thing, what’s most important, and forget the rest. 

I doubt I’m the only person who thinks that’s easier said than done, and it seems I’m right – Dr C showed me some YouTube videos called Attention Training, an audiovisual tool designed to develop a deeper focus on the one thing that you’re trying to do. Whether you’re trying to quell anxiety in conversations (like I am) or focus deeper on a piece of work (which I also am) or some other task that involves ignoring distractions, the Attention Training will, in theory, help to tune out the noise and allow you to think clearly and control your emotions. 

For more practice focusing, see also Attention Gym. These videos have millions of hits, and the comments show that other therapists worldwide, not just mine, are recommending these videos. Some are purely audio, some are purely visual, some a mix of both. The videos all follow a similar formula: many different things happen at once, with audio instructions requiring you to focus on one of these things. A small shape appears on a black screen and moves across it. You’re asked to follow it with your eyes. Soon, other shapes in different colours join the frame, and move in different ways designed to distract you – they spin, they turn, they rebound of the corners of the screen like a 90s screensaver. But we’re still asked to focus on the original shape, to ignore the distractions and stay focussed on the task at hand. 

The audio-emphasis exercises are loaded with similar distraction. The video – a black screen with text - will start with a ticking clock. A car’s engine will intrude on the sound, then a steam train, then you’ll be transported aurally to a greasy spoon cafeteria. These sounds will overlap, but your task is to read the text instructions and focus on whichever sound is described on screen. You need to identify the matching sound and cut out the cacophony from your mind. 

It’s no easy task. With time, though, I should be able to focus more deeply and not have my mind wonder off into some irrelevant thought or stressing over whether I’m doing it right. 

So, how is this relevant to real life? Concentration span has always been an issue for me, right from infant class. I’m now 43, and I’m still drifting off at times. For example, I’m embarrassed how long this blog post has taken to write, to be honest. Dr C has advised that not only will a deeper, narrower focus help me to understand things, it means the anxiety – over whether I’m good enough for the people I’m talking to, whether I’m ‘fitting in,’ whether memory difficulties are marking me out as different in some way – will be quietened as my attention will be on the other person in the conversation, not myself. These things might sound like ridiculous things to stress over, but when you strip everything away, this is my underlying problem. 

Other people have their own reasons for needing to practice focusing, but a lot of these videos have millions of hits, so it's far from an unusual problem. 

It would be a good idea to blog again on this issue in a month’s time, to see whether there’s any real-world changes to my attention and mental state. 

In the meantime, have a go yourself. 

Manchester Psychology Social Group launches

I wanted to do something a little different than just going to bars and clubs and seeing DJs. I want to do all that still, but I’ve been looking for something else to enjoy, possibly midweek, and I couldn’t quite find it. So I put together a new Meetup group: Manchester Psychology Social Group. 

I’ve found psychology interesting since I got an assessment for short term memory difficulties in 2009. Since then I’ve been reading, learning, watching things. There’s a cavalcade of info that I find fascinating, and more things I’d like to learn, and I just wondered if anyone else had that same passion. I thought it would be a bit niche for a Meetup group, but there was no harm in trying. I was already paying to be an organiser and I as allowed a third group (after Manchester Nightlife and Manc Mates), but the members started rolling in the moment I set up the group a week or so ago.

I set up a meetup for the Wednesday last week, which I felt might break up most people’s weeks so they aren’t waiting a whole week to do anything social. The plan was to go to Feel Good Club, a cafe with a mental health slant, but their opening hours weren’t particularly obvious. After a bit of digging it seemed they’d be closed at the time of the meeting, so I moved it to nearby cafe / bookshop Chapter One Books. There were 12 people down to meet: 6 showed up, but that was a good amount. Friendly people, empathetic, positive and full of ideas.

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At the time of writing I have 82 members. Make it 83! I’ve just scheduled a new meeting at Haunt on Peter St next Wednesday. 7:30pm is the earliest I can get there. Join us if it sounds like your thing!

You’ll Know Someone with Low Emotional Quotient

 

Names of individuals and organisations have been changed to prevent earache and potential lawsuits. 

I recently had to block someone that I’d been mates with for about 5 years. Donny and I hadn’t been particularly close, not as close as he’d imagined. He was about a decade older, and yeah, we’d grown up in the same town, but aside from spending a few years in a weekly men’s Support Group and both having mental health challenges, we were pretty different. I’m single, him engaged then married. I do gym, he… well, maybe walks his dog. I like swanky cocktail bars and dark nightclubs playing blaring house music, he goes to old-man pubs selling traditional ale. I went to uni 20 years ago, he’s studying now. I did media, he’s doing counselling. I’ve done a ton of promo work and bar work in the past, and I’m now in admin, he used to work on the railways. 

None of this bodes for a meaningful, deep friendship, does it? So why did Donny persist in trying to form some kind of friendship with me in particular? Why not someone with whom he has more in common? 

This didn’t happen overnight. Very gradually, Donny began to ingratiate himself into my life, following me to a different branch of the support group because, like I did, he felt it was more sociable and with more varied characters, different ages and backgrounds etc. Which it is. 

It was around this time he enrolled on his mental health counsellor course, and this coincided with a weird behavioural change: he started trying to counsel me. Intermittently, he’d text me with out-of-character messages, saying ‘how are you feeling,’ and such. ‘About what?’ I’d reply, hoping I was misinterpreting. ‘Just in general,’ he’d reply. 

The Support Group had a secret Group Page, only visible to people who attend the group, and is a space for people to check in throughout the week with any challenges they might be facing, or any positives, or asking for advice. It means you’re not waiting a whole week to be able to be able to vent, or ask questions if you require. Occasionally, I’d put something up just to gauge the group’s opinions and reactions. Once Donny had started this course, I’d find that minutes after uploading this post, he’d phone me, telling me that I can always talk to him about these things. 

Yes, I’d say, or I can put them on the Group Page where I can see a few responses at the same time. 

It was just not like him. Further odd behaviour happened: Donny developed a persistent habit of trying to set me up with his wife’s friends, none of whom I had any interest in and were usually, like Donny and his wife, slightly odd people whose lives were vastly different to mine. He wanted to approach women for me. He’d phone me and waffle down the phone about nothing in particular, sometimes about some dogshit TV show his wife was watching that he was, through circumstance, being subjected to, for instance. He wanted me to proofread essays of which he’d only written the introduction (and not very well). 

At one point (and this is where my own social naivete comes to the fore) I’d followed – and received a follow back from - a local stripper on Instagram. She messaged me a few times, saying things like, ‘wanna have some fun?x’ I’d assumed this was just to try to get me to come to her club and buy dances. I responded eventually, and she claimed she’d not danced for a few weeks. It seemed she’d been trying, if I was reading this right, for a hookup. I asked her if she fancied a drink at the weekend. Things seemed to be going well. But why was she asking to meet a guy twice her age? And what had I done right this time? Something was off. 

I detailed this in the Support Group’s Group Page. People at the group seemed to be missing the point. They were asking me not to worry, and not bother about other people’s judgements. My concern was different to that: was this young woman looking for naive blokes to set up and rob? Was there some other situation I hadn’t thought of? At the same time, I’ve thrown away some great opportunities with suspicions like these. I’ve treated good girls like they were trying to do me over, and they’ve left me because I’ve evidently not trusted them. 

So, what’s the worst that could happen? We’d be meeting in a public place. There’d be doormen on.

Donny, of course, completely misread the situation. He phoned me, offering to sit in the bar at the back of the room and ‘keep his eye on me.’ 

Not necessary, I explained. I don’t think anything drastic is going to happen, and besides, what would you do? 

Just watch, he claimed. 

Mate, I retorted, with respect, I don’t need backing up, something you couldn’t do anyway. You’ve had surgery on your hands and feet. Plus, how old are you? Fifty? 

The girl stopped messaging the day we were supposed to meet up. 

Not long after this I went for food with Donny, his wife and Julie, a girl that had been eyeing me up at his wedding. At the time, she was in a relationship. Now, not so. She was not what I go for at all, but we were a group of mates anyway, and besides, I’d been meaning to try Almost Famous. I left the car at home and got the bus in to avoid giving them a lift, and so I could pre-drink from a hip flask on the way down. 

The food was actually good, but the three other people at the table had very different lives to my own, and there really wasn’t a great amount in terms of common ground, shared experiences, conversation that would stimulate all four of us. At the risk of sounding like a massive douchebag, there’s a certain intelligence difference between the other three and myself. We went for drinks and played darts, something I’d done maybe twice before in my life, then shared a taxi back early doors. 

I messaged one of the other support group members, Brian. I ask him, has Donny been phoning you a lot? It seemed Donny has. Brian felt like the conversations they’d had could have been a text message, really. 

Monday rolls around, and – as a routine – I pick up Donny on the way into the support group. He’s oblivious to this, but I’m starting to feel really uncomfortable. Trapped. Angry. Once someone pisses you off, there’s no going back. You probably know how it is: every little thing that they do starts to grate. 

Donny asks me if something’s wrong. 

You fucking idiot, I think. Can you really not see that YOU are the problem here? 

The support group session begins. I make sure that Donny is in a different room before I mention these problems, without naming him, but also drop the bombshell – after retelling the above – that this individual in question is someone who attends this support group. 

Ooohhh rings out across the room. 

It’s like a game of Guess Who, says the facilitator. Does he have glasses? Does he have a moustache? 

Also in this room is Brian, who has listened to the whole story and not disclosed I’ve told him first. If he had, I’d say that’s a breach of the rules. Wouldn’t you? 

The session ends a little later. I hang back to talk to people in the building, then I step outside. Donny and Brian are stood together, obviously having talked, with smirks on their faces. 

Bone to pick with you, insists Donny. Were you under any pressure last week? 

Oh, the sewing circle has been out in force, has it? I ask. What happened to the rules of the group? What happens in the room stays in the room. Also, you couldn’t put me under any pressure. 

Immediately after this, I have to give both Donny and Brian a lift home, as a routine. They both live near me. This time, my car doesn’t start. 

Awks. 

We call up another guy from the group to come into town and give us a jump start. 

It’s an uncomfortable journey home. 

As the weeks go on, it’s increasingly difficult to attend the support group and say what I want to say, as I now have to try to avoid Donny’s room, and Brian’s room. This is difficult when the burgeoning group is struggling to accommodate numbers coming through the door. A bigger concern is that they are both facilitators, which means they’re asking the questions, explaining the rules and keeping track of time. Leading the circle, if you like. It’s hugely hypocritical that they’re the ones both reading out the rules and breaking them. I’m increasingly finding that the majority of what I want to share involves people from the actual group itself. Eventually, this becomes unmanageable. I put a message in the group explaining I’m taking a break of at least a month. (I knew I’d likely not be back.) 

Donny, of course, immediately responds, ‘reassuring’ me that the group will always be there for me if I decide to return. He’s evidently completely oblivious that he’s the main reason I’m leaving. 

This brings us back to the blog post title: emotional intelligence. So what is it? Global English Editing lists out some of the key feature of low EQ. 

1) Difficulty in understanding others’ emotions 

My anger and irritation at Donny’s behaviour was beyond his grasp. There was a night where the group poured into The Moon under the Water, the local Wetherspoons, next door to the Support Group’s building, knowing I couldn’t stand the place. The facts that I’d worked in healthcare, and dealt with COVID-19 as an essential worker, and that loads of my clients died during the pandemic, Donny knew full well. He also knew Wetherspoons CEO Tim Martin sacked all his staff at the start of the pandemic instead of putting them on furlough, and told them to go and work in Tesco. He then complained repeatedly about the harm the lockdown was doing to his business – the lockdown that was entirely necessary, and that if wasn’t enforced, would have led to the deaths of a larger number of his own customers. Idiot. Prior to the pandemic I’d made it clear that I thought The Moon Under the Water was a shithole and full of idiots, and I had no intention of setting foot in there again. 

2) Poor listening skills 

I suspect, through Donny’s counselling studies, he’s working on this, but because he’ll have been told to. I can’t say he particularly listened to much of what I’d said when we’d talked. He only responded to what he’d seen on Facebook, and gossip he’d heard. 

3) Inability to handle criticism 

Donny, as far as he was concerned, tried to help me, and I’d complained about him. That’s all he could comprehend. The idea that his behaviour was behind my complaint hadn’t occurred to him. Instead of seeing the situation (him overreaching into my dating life, me divulging this to the group and this being leaked back to him) as an opportunity to learn, he reacted with offence and hurt. 

4) Difficulty in expressing emotions 

Donny is a very plain, inexpressive individual. He has a son he rarely sees or even mentions. His ex-wife is a bit of a nutter apparently – a stalker, a bit violent. I don’t really know much of this as he rarely lowers his guard and discusses it. The only real emotion I’ve seen from him is annoyance or offence. 

5) Lack of empathy 

I had to tell Donny that texting was a much better means of communicating, rather than phoning. I had to explain that, other than my parents, he was the only person who phoned me. Most other people texted, WhatsApped or messaged through socials. It just means people can respond when they’re free to. They don’t have to drop everything to take a call, which wasn’t particularly important anyway. To empathise, you need to grasp that other people’s time is filled with their own goals, work, hobbies, family time, relationships etc. etc. They can’t give up that time to listen to someone waffle about their life. 

And no, Donny, I’m not going to drive you and your wife to Wales, even if you pay me. It’s not just the petrol. It’s the TIME. Low-EQ people rarely grasp the idea that other people’s time is their own, and isn’t always for the person asking. 

6) Difficulty in building and maintaining relationships 

To Donny’s credit, he was on his second marriage, which is more that I can say for myself. His friendships, on the other hand, were a hodge-podge of people from the support group, and the boyfriends of his wife’s friends. He didn’t seem to have any solid male friendships of his own. I expect this was largely due to him pushing them away with an immediate overfamiliarity and an inability to sit in peace on his own. 

* 

To conclude, there isn’t a great deal that you can do to educate these people. People are as smart as they are, and they aren’t going to suddenly grasp ideas that they previously couldn’t. The trick - I now realise - is to be fair, but firm, and to keep a certain distance before you get enmeshed in their problems. 

I ended up leaving the Support Group over this and attending a different, Online Group. I only see this new group duringthe 2 hour session in the week, which gives that space and separation, meaning the people who support you in that Group only know what you tell them in the Group. Because you have no other contact, there’s no possibility that you’ll ever feel the need to share anything in the Group about people who attend it. There are other benefits, but in essence, if there is anyone notably lacking EQ in the Online Group, I’m certainly not conscious of it as the conversation is purely structured, so the pitfalls that come with that social clumsiness just aren’t there. 

As a result, people are getting the help that they need, without having to complain about the very people that come together to support each other.

I tried CBD for a month, to little avail

CBD - cannabinoid oil - the non-psychoactive ingredient in cannabis, was legalised in the UK in 2018, and numerous companies have capitalised on this. Menwhile, over the last 10 or so years, the taboo around the topic of mental health has eroded away thanks to TV shows, news articles and, sadly, high profile suicides. 

It’s easier now due to support groups, changes to work culture and general discussions that people are having, to broach the subject. With this new openness to discussion around mental health challenges, companies like Cancalm are producing CBD and are advertising it as an anxiety-reducing non-prescription medication. 

Anxiety reduction is the key purported benefit of CBD, but it is also touted as supporting muscle recovery, alleviating joint swelling and improving memory, along with a host of other alleged attributes. 

A month ago, I started taking CBD mostly to see if there might be any changes in my memory. I doubted it, as I’ve had memory difficulties my whole life from an Acquired Brain Injury at birth, and the doctors have always told me that it isn’t going to get any better. So far, they’re right. 

The other reason: social anxiety. I’ve worked hard through NHS therapy to overcome issues of anxiety, particularly around women, and I’ve made some progress. It’s an ongoing project. ‘You don’t know until you try’ is the underlying mentality I had when I started taking CBD, but I never expected there to be any difference. I know what the challenges are that I face and the underlying causes of them. Putting the harmless bi-product of a plant into my body and expecting myself to make peace at this point with my past social mistakes – which is basically most of what I can remember – is wholly unrealistic. The NHS have taught me all they can. If Sertraline, Citalopram, Duloxetine and Mirtazapine didn’t do it for me either, CBD won’t. 

That’s certainly what I’ve found. I’ve not felt much difference. Family say they haven’t noticed any change; neither have colleagues. 

While I did this CBD project I was also, for the most part, working on a photography project too. This involved a lot of standing back, observing, and not being particularly involved in anything I saw. I found this very isolating and the project as a whole brought me down. If CBD was going to do anything to help, it would have been at those moments. I also frequently forgot kneepads, very helpful equipment for photography, so CBD obviously didn’t help my memory either. I probably also for got to take it on some nights, although there’s no way of finding out whether I did or not. 

Some people swear by CBD. I’d swear it’s snake oil.

Directions for Men / Mentell

 

For reasons I won’t get into here, I decide it was time to take a break from support group Andy’s Man Club. It was time to look around for other alternatives in the mental health community. I looked back at this event I went to in November last year about Male Loneliness, held in 53Two bar.  

Directions for Men seemed like a good group to investigate as they had a weekly online check-in on a Friday night, via Zoom. I joined in one of these. 

Founded by Chris Judge in 2019, the group has 2 sessions a week – the online 40-minute group, and a longer face-to-face group in Stockport. Bit far for me. They all seem like a good bunch of lads going through their own shit, helping each other out. 

Mentell, I understand, is a group very similar in format to Andy’s Man Club, and I gather that’s because it was set up by someone who had a fallout with AMC and set up his own online group. I’d joined in one session in the early days of the pandemic and found it a positive experience, largely because there was no need to trek into town to meet people and do the before and after waffle. (Not that we were allowed then anyway.) 

Discussing things with other strangers, dealing with similar problems, from the comfort of our respective homes, was a huge relief. I’d always considered restarting there. This week I’d managed to respond to their reminder email asking me to save a seat at the Monday night online circle. 

The rules were explained – this is a private group, and each person in the group should be sat in a private room with no-one interrupting them. If anyone is seen entering the frame of their webcam, their feed is disconnected. We’re assigned a ‘room’ with maybe 10 other members. The rules: no discussions of medication, politics or religion. 

We’re asked to rate our mood, 1 being terrible, 10 being great. People with the lowest mood score get to share first. The room’s facilitator keeps the list in order, and calls people’s names one at a time. I felt pretty good, so was towards the back of the queue. Fine by me. 

You can use the ‘raise hand’ feature to ask people questions about their share or to share reassurances like you might in any other group. At the end: a closing statement reminding us to share the group, to encourage people to join, but to retain the confidentiality of the group. Nothing actually shared in the group is retold anywhere else. We’re then asked to give one word to sum up our thoughts or feelings. I think mine was ‘relief.’ (Okay, I can choose to share my own info.) 

I found the session really helpful, straightforward and time-efficient. 

To get involved, sign up for the email alert on the website, keep your eye out for it, book your place, wait for the link to be sent and you’re good to go.

New HMRC Woes

Well, the inevitable has happened, and I’ve been asked to apply for Universal Credit, a benefit for which I’m not entirely sure I’m eligible. Working Tax Credits end I believe next year, with Universal Credit replacing it, so for some reason HMRC – who tax me on my wage – want to see the payslips that they already deduct from. 

I’ve managed to print one out in work, as we don’t get automatic physical copies any more and my printer at home doesn’t work as it’s been so long since I printed anything the cartridge appears to have dried up. I’m not buying another cartridge every 12 months whenever I need to print a solitary piece of A4. I plan on having a go at this application tomorrow. Will I need more than one payslip? Unsure. 

I will need to (again) submit my psych assessment and any correspondence between my GP and the numerous therapists I’ve dealt with over the years. Joy. It’ll doubtlessly be an arduous task, as was getting Tax Credits back after DLA was stopped and I was asked to apply for PIP (an experience I should probably recount on here one day). 

A good Welfare Rights officer is essential, to point out if you’re being misinformed (a high likelihood) or doing it wrong (in my case, also high). I have til 15th September, but I want to sort this quickly. 

The system itself is designed to be difficult, as experience has always told me. The Big Issue have reported on DWP whistleblowers admitting the system is ‘target-driven’ and disabled people are ‘set up to fail.’ but then, nothing is new there. Anyone who has applied for PIP knows you’re treated like a liar and a con artist. Citizen’s Advice Oldham were good for me a while back. They’re based behind the Job Centre, off Union St. 

I’ll update next week.

Psychology News: Connection Matters, Iraninan Threat Detection, Risky DWP Sites

 

This week has been Loneliness Awareness Week, hosted by The Marmalade Trust. ‘Marmalade Trust is the only charity in the world specifically dedicated to raising awareness of loneliness.’ 

From Active Care Group: Mind UK state that some people ‘describe loneliness as the feeling we have when our need for social contact and relationships isn’t met. But loneliness isn’t the same as being alone. You may feel content without much contact with other people. Others may find this a lonely experience.’ 

I have short term memory difficulties, a lifelong condition. I think when you grow up trying to get to know people but forgetting the vast majority of what they tell you, it can be difficult to get close to someone, to know who someone is. You forget what people tell you about themselves. You don’t learn the social cues. You don’t pick these things up through osmosis, through life generally, like most other people do. You have to work to be normal. You have to learn to listen, to gauge people’s responses to your behaviour. To adjust and adapt to be accepted. You have to make the same social mistakes a few times. 

In that way, I’ve always felt I can’t quite meet my own needs, and that connecting to people was a huge effort. To make matters worse, as I get older, my patience with people diminishes. I’ve also felt that memory difficulties, plus depression and anxiety, would put women off. People tell me this is nonsense. 

I dunno. Anyway. If you’re dealing with similar issues, you should combat them. Talk to your GP. Look for a support group. Try Hub of Hope for local groups. 

Independent of this (according to scientists in Iran, at least) is the issue of anxiety. Psypost reports that anxious people will focus on threat detection (the threat of being outcast socially, for example, or the threat of physical harm) but that this can be reduced through training. ‘Focusing instead on neutral stimuli’ – i.e. distracting yourself from what it is causing the anxiety – is something I’ve seen mentioned in several places over the last few months. 

In other news, depressing but unsurprising: DWP admit nearly all its websites were rated ‘very high risk’ on access, and could be breaking the law, exacerbating the already outrageous waiting times to get through on the phone. But, this is what happens when you cut the budget to public services. I’ve sat on the line to DWP in the past. You really need a competent Welfare Rights officer to step in and do it for you – their phone line bypasses the queue, and they know what to say.

Reviews, Resources and, uh, Raver Drugs

I’ve noticed a lot of psychology-related news over the last few weeks, but not enough to make a blog post out of. Here’s a psych-based mish-mash for you: 

The Department of Work and Pensions have confirmed that Personal Independence Payment – the disability benefit – will stay non-means tested, which is a start. Still waiting for them to scrap humiliating private assessments, one of which I had. I may blog about it in time. What exactly working disabled people will do when Working Tax Credits ends in 2024, I don’t know. Some of us are not eligible for Universal Credit due to hours of work being below the threshold. 

A few resources are popping up on social media- End Loneliness UK ‘believe that people of all ages need connections that matter.’ I concur. Silver Cloud ‘offer Internet-based Cognitive Behaviour Therapy (iCBT) through a series of digital tools.’ The aim is to support NHS staff in the job, at a time when staff are experiencing unprecedented levels of stress. Togetherall describe themselves as a ‘community of real people who understand.’ It’s a mental health support community available to people who have certain employers: universities or the Armed Forces seem to be the main criteria. That said, I’m sure my employer brought it to my attention. I’m in the public sector, but they’re not listed on the site. I gather location plays a part too. As I’m happy with Andy’s Man Club I’m unlikely to investigate further. Let me know what it’s like! 

This was from back in February, but PsyPost reports that CBD - a non-psychoactive component of cannabis – can improve verbal recall, allowing more of what we hear. I have a bottle of CBD from an event that took place before the pandemic, but I never got into it. It was touted as an anxiety treatment, but I didn’t use it regularly. It might be worth doing a little month-long project in which I take CBD daily and see what happens, staying as social as possible. Further research has emerged about the use of MDMA to treat PTSD, reports PsyPost. It worked for me back in 2016. Nothing I’ve tried since then – illicit nor prescribed – has worked as effectively. Every barrier that I felt – every doubtful thought – dissipated that night. Sadly, I cannot risk becoming a massive pillhead. It was bad enough spending 4 years on prescription drugs that didn’t work. That’s your lot for the moment, but I have at least 2 more #psychologysaturday posts to come.

Mental Health Awareness Week Top Tips - Anxiety

This week has been Mental Health Awareness Week in the UK, although I’ve not seen a great deal advertised about it. The theme this year is ‘anxiety,’ something I have enough experience of. I’m no professional, but I’ve seen the professionals, and I’ve soaked up some knowledge. And this is my blog. So here’s my 2 pennies: 

1) More people deal with anxiety than you think. You are not the odd one out, so relax. 

2) If you’re worried about being judged, you’re right: everyone judges everyone, all the time. Including you. So get used to it. 

3) You may have thoughts about what other people are thinking about you. I know I have, and they drive me up the wall. I think people are judging me about having memory difficulties and being ‘the special needs guy.’ I have been repeatedly told this is utter bollocks and that most people don’t even know I have a memory condition. I don’t know what other people are thinking, and neither do you. Save yourself the stress: stay out of other people’s heads. 

4) Sugar causes anxiety spikes. Now, there’s sugar in all sorts of things. But if you’re plying your body with sugary treats or modified microwave meals with added preservatives, you’re not giving yourself a fair chance. Get your sugar from fruit, and get plenty of veg in. Good food isn’t the answer to everything, but if you’re not eating a balanced diet, you’re working against yourself. 

5) Plan your day. When you have a plan and you know what you’re going to do, there’s less of the ‘unknown’ that creeps into your day, and you’re unlikely to be stressing about problems arising, or feeling like you’re at a standstill. With a plan, you can find you’re too busy to notice anxiety. 

6) There are a growing number of support groups that assist with depression and anxiety. I’m in Andy’s Man Club, which operate across the country, but there are many others. Check out Hub of Hope, a location-based mental health resource, and put in your postcode to see what’s available near to you. Point is, act on the problem. Don’t sweep it under the carpet. See your GP. Even Emmerdale featured a men’s support group recently. It was pretty realistic too. Of course, your GP should be your first port of call. Get this done early, because your actual appointment won’t be for weeks. 

7) Don’t fear conflict. If you have to have a difficult conversation, or do something stressful, the anxiety built up around that situation will be a lot more painful than the event itself. It isn’t the conflict that’s the issue – it’s the ‘big deal’ you make out of it. 

8) Give people space. If you want to be there for other people dealing with anxiety, be there. But don’t badger them. Offer the help. If they want it, they’ll ask. If they don’t, don’t make it worse by imposing. You’ll only patronise. 

9) Focus on other people. The more you get to know others, the more you ask about their business, the less you’re thinking about yourself. That self-consciousness is usually the source of anxiety. 

10) Anxiety is not the same as nerves. Dictionary.com defines it as ‘distress or uneasiness of mind caused by fear of danger or misfortune.’ With nerves, you do what you need to do anyway, regardless of the discomfort. With anxiety, it prevents you from doing what you need to do. It puts real barriers in the way of what you deserve to be experiencing. You don’t have to put up with the symptoms of anxiety, nor the real-world repercussions. There are things that can be done about it, but you’ve got to go out and get the help. 

I hope this helps. I’m making an effort not to be a moralistic, preachy arsehole as I’m aware of how off-putting that can be. But I have learned the above, and don’t want other people to go through what I have. So there you have it.

Avoidance of pain only causes more pain

Grief is scary. Rare is the person who shouts, ‘Bring on the grief!’ but the more you experience grief and then recognise how it opens you up to feeling alive, the more you will welcome grief. It is a necessary part of the healing path and a sign that sustained healing in the body, mind and spirit is actually happening. Until you allow the grief to come and flow, the grip of resentment will continue to provide a false illusion of control when it actually causes further pain and suffering. 

-Suzanne Jones, There is Nothing to Fix 

There’s an episode of South Park in which Stan’s girlfriend Wendy turns out to be somewhat tougher than we imagine, and squares up to the class bully and bastard bigmouth Eric Cartman. She tells him she’ll give him a kicking as soon as school is over. Cartman, desperate for a way out, comes up with this not-so-ingenious evasion.

More on this later. 

During the pandemic I had little to do but work, read and work out. I read a lot of books. A few of these were sent to me for review by publishers who I believe had found my details on a publication database. I’d listed myself as covering psychology. 

Back in October ‘20 Ascot Media presumably found me there and sent me a copy of There is Nothing to Fix, a self help book by Suzanne Jones. A really interesting book about trauma, and recovery through therapy and support groups, There is Nothing to Fix stayed with me long after I read it. In particular, the above quote I couldn’t shift from my mind. Not the exact wording, but the principle – the avoidance of pain. 

I have spent 40 years afraid of being hurt. I’m responsible for my own actions, and always have been, but there has been one thing that I’ve been hung up on for a long time. 5 of those years – secondary school – I dealt with a lot of verbal abuse from girls. They would make a lot of personal negative comments about my appearance. They’d pretend to be interested, and I’d fall for it every time, then brutally dump me. They’d get their boyfriends to threaten me. One of the girls even beat the shit out of me when I was on rollerblades. She was a head taller than me (even when I had blades on), and a lot stronger. 

A lot of this happened not because of how I looked, but how I behaved. I have short term memory difficulties from an acquired brain injury, a result of a complication at birth. In secondary school I was insecure, frustrated, childish and a loner. Learning my way around a massive building and trying to remember rooms, names of teachers, names of pupils and – let’s not forget – what I was actually being taught in the lessons, was too much to handle. 

I pretty much went mad. I don’t want to give too much of an example, but I was not popular. Whenever I was interested in a girl, the response was rarely ‘no thank you,’ it was a tirade of insults to keep me as far away from them as possible. 

Let's jump forward to my mid-20s, to 2007-2008, when I was reading a lot of information from dating guru David DeAngelo. I found him through a Google search. I checked his site (no longer valid), started reading, and started taking on board his teachings. 

Within 6 months, I’d lost my virginity at the age of 25. 

Slight overshare, perhaps, but we’re talking about trauma. There’s no other way of making the point. In those 6 months of reading, though, I took on a lot of character-building information. I can still remember a ton of it. I remember sitting at my computer literally crying as I realised what I’d been doing wrong my whole life. Every email that was sent out informed me more and more. 

I somehow got out of the habit of reading the emails. Maybe they stopped being sent. I dunno. 

There was one particular point that he made, though, that I can’t get out of my head, yet, paradoxically, I am still yet to take on as a 40-year-old. (Predictably, I can’t find it anywhere online now, so you’ll have to accept my paraphrasing.) 

DeAngelo explained that, you could look at a woman, like her, go over and talk to her and get a resounding no. She might be polite, or she might not be. But if she rejects you, you know. It’s over. You move on. The damage is done. If you don’t approach her, for whatever reason (for me it was fear that I wouldn’t be good enough), you’ll spend the rest of the night- possibly even the week- thinking, what if I’d just tried? What if things had worked out? 

That pain of regret will be so, so much worse than any rejection she could give you. 

DeAngelo is right. I know this and have acted on it with success. Sometimes they’re interested, sometimes they’re not. Yet I still find I can freeze with fear, and not make that initial approach. Then I go home wishing that I’d made the move. 

In contrast, I’m reminded of an incident after a Miss Swimsuit UK event a few years ago. Believe what you want, but I’d been there to get selfies with zed-list reality TV stars, not just to ogle women in bikinis. 

Not just. 

After the event we’d headed to an after-party in a venue nearby. On entry, I realised from the couplings and dress sense of the clientele that this was a gay bar. No biggie. Been to many. But I do get a lot of unwanted attention from gay guys, and always have, and I was starting to get looks. Some guy struck up conversation with me. I brushed him off. 

For whatever reason, the group seemed to split apart -maybe someone went to the bar, someone else went to the restroom, etc etc. I was stood on my own. I needed to raise a flag. 

Fuck it, I thought. I’m in a distant city, nobody knows me, and if I meet anyone nothing’s going to happen anyway. I’m giving my mate a lift back to Manchester, so I can’t do anything with anyone tonight or after. It means nothing. 

And I know how I’ll feel if I don’t try. 

Across the room, someone else was evidently feeling out of place. A tall, traditionally beautiful, perhaps Arabic looking woman, maybe in her mid 20s. 

Let’s do this. 

“Hi,” I said. “I’m Matt.” 

“Matt, I’m not the kind of girl you should be approaching,” she claimed. “I don’t even come to this kind of place.” 

“Me neither,” I interjected. “I’m from Oldham.” 

Once she started ranting about her family having land in Saudi Arabia, I walked off. 

Big exhale. Well, I thought. Not had rejection like that since school. But I did it. She didn’t waste my time, she made her thoughts clear, and they were exactly what I expected. Any other approach I do is unlikely to be that bad. 

I don’t remember making any other approaches that night, but generally speaking, it was a decent night. 

Contrast that with countless other nights during which I’d seen someone I’d liked the look of, and I’d not approached because I expected to get exactly that response. Afterwards, I’d spent more time wishing I’d just tried, feeling more turmoil than I would have felt if she’d have blown me out like Arabic Girl did. 

But then, also, compare that with other nights when I just thought, fuck this, and made a move, and got somewhere. Some of these women were astonishing. They could have had anyone, but were happy – at that moment, at least – with me. With all my self-doubt shoved to one side, I achieved what I wanted. Literally the only thing genuinely stopping me – not my disability (when I explained memory difficulties, most girls were fine with it) – not my looks (it seems not everyone agrees with certain girls from 3 decades ago) and not my mental health, but my own belief systems that have been the issue behind all of this. 

Cartman humiliated himself far worse than any beating ever could (plus he did get beat up). David DeAngelo and Suzanne Jones are both absolutely right: The pain of hesitancy or evasion, and more pertinently, regret over inaction, is far more excruciating than the pain of rejection outright insult. 

To polish off this thesis: a quote from Robert Greene’s The 48 Laws of Power. In particular, Law 28: Enter Action with Boldness.  

Understand: If boldness does not come naturally to you, neither does timidity. It is an acquired habit, picked up out of a desire to avoid conflict. If timidity has taken hold of you, then root it out. Your fears of the consequences of a bold action are way out of proportion to reality, and in fact the consequences of timidity are worse.

Andy’s Man Club Manchester Turns 4

Men’s support group Andy’s Man Club has gone from a humble coffee meeting in Halifax in 2015 to 118 groups nationwide, with another 2 opening soon. The aim: reduce the suicide rate in men. Suicide is currently the biggest killer of men under 45 in the UK. 

The Manchester branch of AMC celebrates its 4th birthday this Friday. Deansgate bar 53Two holds host to the proceedings, which will feature ‘a raffle and prizes to be won from local organisations. All proceeds going to our Andy’s Man Club as a whole, which helps so many men up and down the country, not just Manchester.’ (-Their Facebook)

Also, on the blog, a disastrous social media experiment and a recipe review. Keep it eclectic.

On Narcissism: Part 3 of 3

Waaaaaaay back, in early 2004, I was at uni and working part time at The Living Room, an upmarket bar and restaurant chain. (It folded in 2019 and the Deansgate unit is now Be At One.) I was a bar back, washing glasses etc. 

The serving staff shared a flat in a block of newish, expensive refurbished apartments just outside the centre. One night they invited me – out of all the bar backs – to a party after work. The full (and somewhat eyebrow-raising) story I wrote when I first started blogging in ‘06/’07. 

It took me until recently to realise that a group of maybe 3 of serving staff – Dave in particular – were full-blown narcissists. And that I was their victim. 

That night, the cocaine was passed around. I partook. My first time. This is a drug that is perfect for narcissists. Their bragging goes out of control. Their loudness gets louder. They laugh longer at jokes that get shitter. I just got very uncomfortable. They complained about management, about the customers, and eventually, about the bar backs. 

‘I don’t want to say too much,’ Dave said, ‘Because Matt’s here.’ 

So, if I hadn’t been there… he’d have gone in on all the bar backs too. 

Their whole conversation was about their specific serving role, something I couldn’t comment on. 

I remember thinking, the whole night, why me? Why invite this one bar back, a new guy that you hardly know, out of all of them, to your flat just for him to listen to you rabbit on about how you mouthed off at your managers and they didn’t do anything? 

I ended up resigning without notice from the Living Room after I was put down for a shift not part of my available hours. The rota had been written the week before, and I had noticed the error, but I was exhausted and sick of being spoken to like shit by the serving staff. I figured I’d deal with the hurdle when I crossed it. 

Because I didn’t point out management’s mistake and hence didn’t turn up, they wanted to give me a disciplinary. The manager phoned me while I was in uni, practically in the middle of a lecture. So I never went in again. 

I get it now. 

Dave and his group wanted an audience. They wanted to act like they were on TV. To talk about themselves, and for people to watch them. And who else to fill that role but the shy new guy, grateful to be being apparently welcomed into their group? 

Hicks and his group wanted an audience. That’s why he kept inviting me to things but kept making excuses any time I suggested doing anything. 

HS wanted an audience. That’s why she had elongated irrelevant staff meetings and wouldn’t relinquish me to any other departments that would have benefited from my support. 

More to the point, narcissists, like each of these, target vulnerable people, like shy people, or learning disabled people. People like me (even if they – like the Living Room staff – didn’t know about the condition). They’ll rope in people who are lonely, insecure, eager to be accepted. Clearly, people who won’t recognise and remember specific behaviours to retell to other people (like medical professionals, or people working in support roles). 

So, how do we – disabled or not, shy or not - avoid being used for Narcissistic Supply? 

I can’t conceive of thinking so much about myself that I’d consider that people would be grateful to even be in my presence, but then, that’s probably a good thing. To avoid being used by people who do have that mindset, we require an ability to say, ‘no thanks, that’s not my kind of thing,’ or, ‘sorry, too busy.’ But you have to be busy. Have plans, targets, things you want to be doing. 

As for the narcissistic individuals, keep a track of their behaviour and exactly what they’ve said (I find the Omninotes app on the Play Store to be most effective) and then you can discuss this with other people, perhaps healthcare professionals like your GP, specialists, managers, family, other friends etc. 

And you have to be comfortable with the inevitable criticisms these rejections will incur. Being happy on your own, and not needing validation from other people, will prevent you feeling the urge to take up every offer that comes your way. And if you’re worrying about being judged… they are no matter what you’re doing. 

More importantly, it will also help you rise above the narcissist’s tactics to ensnare you.

On Narcissism: Part 1 of 3

Back in 2015 I cut out a whole bunch of people that I had been ‘mates’ with for 7 years. It’s now been as long since I saw them as I’d spent hanging around with them. 

In that time, I’ve done my therapy. I’ve been in the support groups. I’ve read a lot of books on psychology, on people, on human behaviour. I’ve learned a lot. Very recently, I’ve realised this group of people were narcissists. And they used me. 

Rather than a standard piss-and-moan about something that happened ages ago, I want to warn people so that they don’t fall into the pitfalls that I repeatedly did. A narcissist may not come to you saying, ‘I am brilliant’ (although they might). If they are slightly less subtle, how might we spot them? 

To start with, what exactly is a narcissist? Is it just someone who loves themselves? WebMD describes it as ‘extreme self-involvement to the degree that it makes a person ignore the needs of those around them.’ 

Bearing in mind, this particular bunch had known each other since they were 11, and went to the same private school. To get in, an applicant would need to pass an entrance exam and their parents today would pay £12,600p.a. in tuition fees. This kind of environment is known to foster arrogance and self-entitlement. This group would refer to a ‘hierarchy’ that they claimed informally existed in the school. I met them when we were in their mid 20s and I stayed mates with them ‘til we were in our early 30s. 

Then I came to my senses. 

They were incredibly self involved, and definitely put their needs above mine. They were obsessed with their local drinking places, a bar strip so utterly shit that both Panorama and Cops with Cameras would film their TV shows there as they knew there’d be a cavalcade of drunk knobheads kicking off every weekend. Most of these people would be blue collar, low-skilled and low-paid workers blowing their wages on booze. My group were in management positions. 

Yet they were, just like most other people on Oldham’s Yorkshire street, desperate to prove themselves. One of them, we’ll call him Hicks, smashed up his hand in a street fight then went into work in his office two days later, overseeing his team. 

Years after growing a set and ditching this group, and after stumbling across an online article, it dawned on me that this group were narcissists. It also dawned on me that all the signs were there, and had been completely oblivious to them. After a bit of research it turns out what I’d been subjected to was Narcissistic Supply, a need to be watched by other people: to have an audience. 

Until I was maybe 29/30, I lacked the confidence to simply say, ‘no thanks, that’s not my kind of thing.’ I’d get myself roped into all sorts of shit nights out – and with numerous dodgy characters in various groups of mates – all because I couldn’t stand up to others and say no. (I say no a lot now, to many people’s dismay.) I’d find myself protesting, saying I didn’t want to go there, only for the main culprit, Hicks, telling me, ‘but it isn’t about where you go. It’s about who you’re with.’ He would say, ‘We’re you’re mates. If you don’t come out with us, what are you going to do?’ 

I was usually, by choice, designated driver. When I was learning to drive, my instructor told me that when waiting at a red light, you must apply the handbrake to secure the car. If someone runs into the back of you, and they slam you into the path of oncoming traffic, you are partially liable as you hadn’t secured your vehicle. RAC seem to confirm this. 

Ferro and Hicks, who both also drove with full licenses, thought this was absurd. They were so infuriated by this that they would call me ‘an actual physical retard.’ 

This is abuse. 

Of course, I didn’t recognise it as such. It would be dismissed as ‘banter.’ When you lack confidence, you find yourself ushered into the ‘audience’ role – there so the narcissist has someone to watch them. 

Back in 2012 I went to Warehouse Project with Hicks and maybe a couple of others. We’d not particularly discussed how we were going to get there, but Hicks told me a few of them would meet at mine. Immediately, they were taking cocaine in my bathroom. Regrettably, I partook too under the assumption we’d be getting a taxi. 

I drove to Trafford Park. 

Thankfully, I was fine. Nothing happened. But why would Hicks do this? An intelligent bloke, in a management position in work. Why would he not stop and think, wait, this is a bad idea? And why didn’t I? But to my defence, I’m brain damaged and was in special needs in school. He’s privately educated. It makes no sense. 

I fell into the same patterns of victimisation until 2015, where I went on a stag do. The weekend, based in a European holiday destination, was a few weeks prior to the wedding of one of the group. We’ll call him Ferro. There was a fancy dress theme, and I wore an outfit that involved a plastic helmet that rested on the head and the bridge of the nose. As the helmet was round, and shiny, there was some urge from these neolithic yuppies to slap me over the head, cutting the helmet’s visor into the nose. I was walking around the town with blood all over my face. You can see the cuts here:

I had met this group through Hicks, whom I had trained in martial arts with for some years. Another member, we’ll call him Crowe, I hadn’t seen since I was first in the group. He’d fucked off to Dubai or somewhere to teach sports, I gather. Now he was back in the UK and had joined the stag do. 

He started to ask me about the training I’d done. I hadn’t said five words before it dawned on me what he was going to say in response. I was right. 

‘Yeah, it doesn’t mean shit though. I could batter you whenever I want. But I won’t, ‘cause you’re a mate.’ 

Bullshit. He, like everyone else, still felt the primitive urge to slap me around. And while he was saying this, it dawned on me he’d said it before, years ago, when I was giving him a lift. It also dawned on me that the reason I didn’t do anything with his sister – who had tried it on with me a number of times – was that I couldn’t stand him. I just hadn’t connected the dots. I brought this up with Hicks, and he dismissed the situation. It was ‘only a joke,’ he ‘didn’t mean it,’ etc. Even when Crowe squared up to Hicks’ brother-in-law-to-be, Hicks only made a passing comment that it ‘wasn’t a good situation’ and that ‘if any two people were going to kick off it would be them.’ 

After the stag do I turned up at the reception, cuts still healing, after which I didn’t speak to them again. I’d been in enough therapy to know better than to keep meeting them. After blocking them on 3 social media platforms, I never heard from them.

Sci Fi, Cirque, Pizza

Oh, guys. You missed an incredible For the Love of Sci Fi last weekend. One of the best movie conventions I’ve ever attended took place Saturday and Sunday. I’m working on a blog post right now featuring the cast of Back to the Future, Universal Soldier and Star Wars. Incredible visuals. I’ve just got to scan in some pics and decipher my absurd Teeline attempt first. 

Also this weekend, overhyped (and overpriced) hip hop club Cirque (opposite Australasia just off Deansgate) has come under fire from their own – now former – employee.

I never felt safe in Cirque. Bad vibe with an air of aggression from customers and staff alike. Same whether it's Thursday Friday or Saturday. pic.twitter.com/xaehVnahyP

— Matt Tuckey 🇬🇧 mastodonapp.uk/@matttuckey (@matthewtuckey) December 5, 2022

 

Next Monday, at Manchester’s Andy’s Man Club, you (providing you're male and over 18) can do 2 things – meet a bunch of good blokes and get anything you want off your chest, and also eat pizza and have a few drinks afterwards. It won’t be a massive late one as most of us – myself included – have work the next day (annual leave denied!) But the organisers are arranging the food and drinks in our regular, The Crown and Anchor. Christmas get-together. New people welcome. Starting, as per, at Sedulo, Deansgate, 7pm on Monday.

Why Male Loneliness Matters – and What We can Do About It

A good friend of mine Dan Rowe of support group Andy’s Man Club was one of the key speakers at a fascinating talk covering all things men’s mental health related on Thursday night. 

Why Male Loneliness Matters and What we can Do About It took place in 53Two bar on Watson St, along with former rugby player Danny ‘Scully’ Sculthorpe, now a mental health first aider on behalf of State of Mind Sport, Adele Owen from Shining a Light on Suicide and Max Dickens, author of mental health book Billy No Mates, all compèred by Virgin Radio’s Tim Cocker. The night was comprised of a series of presentations from a few different local support groups, including the aforementioned, but also: 

A Band of Brothers, an award-winning charity matching older mentors to younger men, mostly who have come through the justice system, preventing them from returning to it.  

Dadmatters, helping dads have successful relationships with their families, particularly vulnerable families.  

Directions for Men, offering groups across Greater Manchester on different days of the week. 

A Q+A session with the panel allowed for a conversation about mental health in general. The main takeaways – 

• a reiteration that there’s a difference between being physically alone and feeling lonely, that the feeling is more that something is missing rather than your proximity to other people. 

• An encouragement for dads to discuss mental health in front of their children so they grow up knowing that it’s something they can talk about in the future. 

• A change in circumstances – the end of a relationship, or moving to a new town, for example- can mean a change in friendships in adult life, something a lot of men find incredibly difficult. 

• London-based Lions Barber Collective are a team of men’s barbers. Describing itself ‘as a place for haircuts and headspace,’ the Collective offer mental health conversations and a haircut. The movement isn’t restricted to Carnaby St, though, as they are affiliated with The Hub of Hope, finding mental health support systems based on your location. 

At the time of writing I’ve just tried out this particular site, inserting my postcode. I’m offered different headings of afflictions I might need support with – addiction, disability, eating disorder etc. I chose the anxiety option. The top 3 results: Tameside, Oldham and Glossop Mind, Healthy Young Minds Oldham, and Andy’s Man Club Oldham. This website in particular is something I’ve been hoping someone would create for people looking for support across the UK. Back to the event:

• A lady from The Samaritans explained her organisation was looking to expand, and to work with other organisations like Groundwork, working with prisoners and veterans, etc. 

A really rewarding, interesting and reassuring night with some brave speakers.

Why I got a Dopamine and Serotonin Tattoo

Before the pandemic I noticed a growing trend of people getting dopamine and serotonin tattoos. Serotonin and dopamine, two neurotransmitters, are the building blocks of anything we have ever liked. These chemicals enter the bloodstream when we experience pleasure, and are received by the nucleus accumbens, the pleasure centre found in the lower region of the brain, the basal forebrain. 

Immediately I knew I wanted that chemical structure tattoo, on the right wrist. 

It has taken me until yesterday to action that. I dropped into Inkin in Oldham, a studio I’ve been following on socials for a while. Among their clients are cyclist Bradley Wiggins, Tom Powell from Love Island, Maisie Gillespie from TOWIE and Chet Johnson from Ex on the Beach. Their artwork is top-notch. See their Youtube for celeb footage. 

I’m 40. I’ve spent much of my life battling cognitive issues like memory difficulties, depression, anxiety and a misdiagnosis of dyslexia. I’m not perfect, but thanks to NHS treatment and time spent in support group Andy’s Man Club, I’m a lot more in control (and happy) than I was. That’s what drew me to this particular design: a reminder that I can be happy too. I had a good chat with Amanda, who performed the tattooing, and Mike, the Managing Director, about their studio, their clients and about mental health in general. A rewarding experience all round!

Andy’s Man Club Walk and Talk

This morning, men’s support group Andy’s Man Club Manchester took a stroll around the City Centre raising awareness of men’s mental health, to coincide with World Suicide Prevention Day. 

 

We chatted to a few people and gave out a few flyers, including a chunk of them to The Police. The officer we spoke to pointed out that their line of work deals with a lot of trauma. Here’s hoping he leaves a few in his staffroom and a handful of policemen drop in on the Monday night session. 

We also dished out a few wristbands and stuck a few cheeky stickers on lampposts. Any publicity is good publicity. 

We were too early, really, and Manchester hadn’t got busy enough. It’d be worth doing again in the afternoon, once people had crawled from their Saturday slumber. Also, Market Street patrons are overly familiar with people trying to get their attention, normally from salespeople. These days, they’re resistant to marketing types pushing flyers and striking up conversations. 

Regardless, here’s hoping we see a few new faces on Monday night. 7PM, Sedulo, next to Slug and Lettuce, Deansgate.

Before 41

Life is short. I have plans for the first year of my 40s to do things that I’ve been meaning to do for a lot of my life. Some are the same, some are new. 

Twitter project 

I have a plan to push my blog views to over a million using Twitter. Now the pandemic is ‘over’ (it isn’t, but whatever) and I’m adding content to the blog, it’s a good time to dive into this.  

Bodybuilding 

For years, I’ve wanted to spend a month living my life like a bodybuilder: eating what they eat, lifting what they lift and seeing if I can increase my strength and size. I’ve actually done a lot of that as the years have gone on, touching 90kgs a few months ago, but I’ve not gone full-on and done 2 sessions a day on a strict diet. This is the plan.  

Fit back into my suits 

I was 30’ waist for most of my adult life until I went on antidepressants. I’m not on them any more, and it’s time to get back into the formal wear that’s been hanging up in my cupboards for years. Feed me all the veg. I’m considering using Tesco’s delivery service to keep me away from junk food. I might do this, whether purposefully or not, in conjunction with the bodybuilding project above. I’m also considering going totally veggie to achieve this.  

Viking project 

My surname Tuckey derives from the name Toki, a tribe that was part of the Viking invasion starting in 793AD. I’ve learned little bits of how my ancestors survived The Harrying of the North in 1069-1070; I’m planning to learn as much as I can about my Norse origins in a month. I have a few other viking-related ideas to include in that period, including watching a lot of Netflix’s Viking content- I have 3 shows in mind- eating what they ate, exercising like them and cutting my hair that way. Expect a big beard.  

Get back on TV 

Another plan is to spend a month applying to TV shows. Back in 2013 I made it onto Sing Date (and got to the end of the episode) and BBC’s The Year of Making Love (appeared in the background after all my scenes were cut). Both were great experiences, and I had it in mind to get back onto TV at some point. See if I can get myself a blue tick. Will it be dating shows? Maybe. Catchphrase is also worth a punt as I’m a dab hand at it. I’ll keep an open mind. One every 2 months.