I was sat on the sofa at my good Friend Joe’s house after a huge Japanese banquet at the Canterbury based restaurant Tamago (Which has a fucking Saki tasting menu. We got well balls drunk and I got confused about Song genres and called Foghead Shoegaze, because I thought it was a song by Slowdive, rather than a band that did a song called Slow Drive. Oh-ho-ho) when I turned to my other friend Christopher Moore (Who is a poet, blues musician and current in a Shoegaze duo) and said:

“Its unfair to every other band when Alt-J release an album, because no matter the quality it’ll be top of my albums of the year list”

And then I realised that the SEASON OF THE END OF YEAR LIST is upon us. Its almost the end of the god damn year of our Lord Two Thousand and Fourteen, which is quite frightening to me. I have two more months left, a full sixth of the year left, so there will be plenty of time for me to write things retrospectively capturing a period of time we all lived through, and also for me to enjoy the end of year treats that come my way, such as the Annual Charlie Brooker Screen Wipe, and I think we will be having a Black Mirror special this year too, so huzzah.

Throw up your limbs its Brookertime.

But I cannot help but compare myself this year to last year. It was about this time last year I threw down my Anti-depressants and decided to go it alone. I have been more or less a year unmedicated, meaning I probably could do medical testing now if I wanted, and it’ll be a year next Monday that I got the full tissue burn on my leg from a broken radiator on a coach. In the space between then and now I think the greatest thing I have learnt is to value to power of just being. Not happy or sad, but that rested place at their center where you simply are content. As a result I am the most stable I’ve been in years, I won’t say I’m the happiest I’ve been because there’s no happiness like that you get when you are wired up the arse on Anti-depressants.

Have I done everything I wanted to do? Is that the right question to ask?

I wanted to do a comic every month this year, and I haven’t done that by anyone’s standard. I’ve created probably 12 quick comics, but I’ve done 8 different comic book projects this year, four of which are yet to reach light but will be out before the end of the year. Eight comics is more than I did last year. Lots more, and I wanted to do more than two Harvey Spig comics this year, but again I just did two, but (Another BUT)   these ones I did do were much longer than their counter parts from last year, so perhaps its not the number of the individual comics but the page count. Maybe its the quality. Who cares I suppose.

Am I proud? You’re damn right I am.

Life did try to piss down my throat again at points of the year but I stood up and told it to get to fuck and kicked through to the other side. I have outright refused to be weighed down by the mini-avalanches that life throws at you (By the way as I wrote ‘mini-avalanche’ I thought of the “Song Avalanche in Apartment B” by Cold War Kids, that is just beautiful on so many levels and I think I GET the song after having listening to it countless times. Loyalty to Loyalty is one of my favourite albums of all time and would be one of the few I’d put into my own personal space probe to introduce humanity to the creatures from the great beyond. That particular song explores the idea of that sudden feeling of loneliness that can only be compared to being caught in an avalanche, coming home to a cold house that used to be filled with the warmth of someone now gone, or just the sudden chill of isolation, of remembering that theres something wrong. I used to get that all the time, when you’re out laughing in company and in the small breath just after the jokes faded some bastard voice in your ear whispers to you that everything is not right. Then; Avalanche.)

I don’t want to get all introspective, and I’m not doing to lie I don’t ever shut up about my personal life on Twitter, but you know I feel that if I’m happy to talk about all the shit that goes on in my mind the world might become more comfortable with discussing issues of mental health and we will all grow as people. Helping ourselves to get better is essential to fighting off the shapeless beast of mental disorder, at least I always found it to be, I was always improving best when I was making sure I was doing it for me (The reliance on the opinions of others and the need for their approval was the most damaging hang up I ever carried with me) but this is only possible with a strong support network, a network of friends and family and people who are there if you need them, who understand you are doing this for you, and then there’s the extended net of a society of people who should be able to say “Peoples problems are their own, and I am prepared to empathise with their condition”. Acceptance that people have their own shit helps everyone deal with their own thing. If we can talk about it, if we know people won’t point and laugh, we can get on with it better I suppose.

Psssh, Anyway,

Something that really bothers me is people using the word Random. “Oh you’re so random”. What the fuck does that mean? I think you’ll find I am meticulously planned.