£5.00
146 in stock
By David Willmott
ISBN: 1-84747-154-4
Published: 2007
Pages: 431
Key Themes: drug abuse, depression, relationships, suicidal thoughts, recovery, humour
Description
This is Willmott’s second book and it takes the form of a diary.
Whilst dealing with the difficult experiences and questions laid down in his first book, Willmott’s latest book is infused with dark humour throughout.
Get ready to cry and get ready to laugh out loud. We can all see ourselves in this work and that is what makes Willmott such a talented writer.
About the Author
David Wilmott was born in 1956, to a catholic family. One of seven children, he grew up in Bedfordshire. At the age of thirteen David left school to train as a priest in St. Albans. David was an exceptional footballer and was expected to become a professional but instead he opted to take up the hippy lifestyle.
David became addicted to amphetamine at an early age and was admitted to an institution at the age of 16 after overdosing, David subsequently spent much of his teens in and out of hospitals as he battled his addiction. During this time David almost died from Hepatitis B and suffered many overdoses. Having conquered his addictions in his twenties, David worked in various sales positions before setting up his own business, a recording studio, in an old hat factory in Luton! After the eventual failure of his business (due to a series of burglaries) and his divorce David suffered a breakdown and became addicted to prescription tranquilisers. He eventually moved to live with his parents in Kendal where, after one suicide attempt, he met his second wife. His second marriage also ended in divorce under the strain of his depression.
David now lives next-door to his wife and six of his eight children. Currently David is unable to work, has no appetite or energy and suffers from extreme mood swings. David has lost all faith in adults and as he puts it ‘society’s (post Thatcher) shallow and sad vested interests and general greed for all things’ he hoped his first book would help people to understand that life is not all about attainment and fulfilment through greed, thus helping to right some of society’s wrongs.
This is his second book.
Book Extract
Went to train station after driving around for what seemed like ages. There were two drunken men/boys with beer cans standing on the platform. Drunken boys are employed by Rail-Track to annoy everyone. In my pocket I had a selection of pills. Not enough to do the deliverance/fated deed alone but enough, with alcohol, to numb the locomotive dissection. I had bought a bottle of Whiskey and a few strong tins of beer. All I needed to do was to take ONE sip of the Whiskey. This would be enough to start the process. One fateful sip and there would be no stopping me achieving my end. Such is my personality, for want of a better description. I wasn’t really looking forward to my body being dismembered by the huge iron wheels of the 11.45pm Glasgow to my beloved Liverpool (mum’s from ‘pool), stopping at Preston . Who would?
I didn’t want the train driver to suffer nightmares or PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). I didn’t want his family to suffer the grief. What sort of chap or chapess was the train driver? Would they have strong defences and dismiss it, as they were entirely without blame or perhaps they would, like the princess and the pea, feel the lightness of my bones and tissue congealing beneath the wheels of his locomotive. All because of my medically induced PTSD. Post Traumatic Stelazine Disorder? The train was delayed. Then cancelled. Leaves on the track?
I won’t be supporting the train drivers if ever they strike.
Came home. The longest three mile drive of my life. Went to bed cried myself to slumber and eventually sleep.
*It’s Friday the Thirteenth. December 2002. I’m still here, I’m still writing this diary.*
Today Boy 9’s teacher said he and his friend A came up to her at playtime.
‘We’re still looking for wisdom Miss’ B9 said
‘Keep looking and listening’ she said laughing.
‘The two boys then walked around the small playground stopping to look, then listen. They did it for about half an hour’ Mrs P said to Wife.
‘Did they find any?’ Wife asked hopefully.
I am so confused by SKY TV and all their offers and variations of offers. You can record TV programmes on SKY when you are dead or waiting for conception, to watch at a later date. Or is it that watching SKY makes you feel as though you are dead? Repeats are now called ‘another opportunity’ to enjoy this or that programme. A weekend of Dr Who is great, once. A weekend of Dr Who repeated three times in the same amount of weeks is not great. And don’t forget the opportunity (never to be repeated; why?) to purchase, for a limited time (limited to what? Limited to how many people buy.) video, DVD, playstation and P.C. games. Also, toys based on the characters, board games, Dr Who masks, scale models of the Tardis, daleks, baddies and stickers. Never forget the power of stickers. Especially when you try to get them off the wallpaper, doors, floor, fridge, table, mirrors, other toys and sometimes you.
The children have TV’s in their bedrooms, playstations, a computer downstairs which needs upgrading but I don’t know why, as we only use it for homework, letters and e-mail/internet. If I upgrade the processor then the children will want games again for the computer. I got fed up with the games always needing faster computers so we bought them a couple of second-hand playstations for games. I’m not going to upgrade. It’s like mobile telephones, one minute you have an acceptable mobile phone then an advert appears on SKY, of course, saying;
‘Are you ashamed of your mobile?’ blah blah, ‘then upgrade to a super new blah phone’.
If I do upgrade, and I have no intention of doing so, what will I have? I will have a plastic box with a battery which receives phone calls and text messages which I use only when we go on holiday and sometimes Wife takes it to town to call for a lift home. If my mobile was a newer more fashionable shape it would do the same thing. But I could play some games on it I’m told and be revered by my peer group. I have no peer group.
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