How Not to Behave on Public Transport

Let’s face it. We all think we are above one another when it comes to traveling on public transport. In reality you are as likely – at times – to be just as infuriatingly annoying as the random stranger coughing up a lung behind you. We naturally love a bitch and a moan and there is usually plenty of fuel to the fire after our morning commute to work, or your flight home from a weekend away.

No one will ever get bored with hearing stories starting “Someone on the train” and I would wager in myself being that guy on occasion. In fact, I know I’ve irked my fair share of people. But hey, this isn’t about me; This is about you. Yes, you. You who…

…Talks loudly on the phone:

Don’t get me wrong. I am incredibly interested in your conversation and may even turn off my music to listen in. But if you must talk loudly on your phone in a carriage full of people, could you please at least fill us all in on what happened to Lesley after she got thrown out of the club last night? You’ve hijacked my attention and you could at least have the manners to spill the beans.“I’ll tell you later” isn’t going to appease everyone who was unwittingly involved in your conversation. That said, if your chat turns to whatever’s popular on Netflix, please hang up immediately. Some of us are only on the second season.

…Engages in drunk banter with those who are really not up for it:

I always feel sorry for the person sitting alone, saddled with a horde of drunken reprobates who have lost all concept of personal boundaries; This is a common occurance on late night trains and buses. Although usually harmless when handled correctly, it can still be an intimidating and stressful time for someone. And, if you’ve just finished work and trying to get home? There is nothing more annoying. Read the room folks. Not everyone is up for it.

…Has no patience:

I’m still astonished by the general lack of patience some people have. Okay, I get it if you’re feeling a tad ratty due to a long day of travel, but there are times when it is completely unnecessary. For example, when you’re at the airport and your flight is called at the gate, there is absolutely no need to jump up, crowd around the boarding desk and jostle for position. Sit back, relax and read a book for half an hour. There will be a seat waiting for you and the plane isn’t going anywhere in a hurry so why should you be.

…Won’t get a room:

We get it couples. Your hopelessly in love and you don’t care who knows it. You also seem to not care who see’s it, which is unfortunate for the person sitting behind you. Is it not enough that we have to put on headphones to block out that horrible smooching sound, but we also have to divert our eyes to stop us from being sick in our own mouths? Save it for the bedroom guys. You make people want to pull their own arm off and beat you with it.

…Doesn’t clean up after themselves:

The majority of us eat and drink on public transport – it is a necessity after all. That said, the majority of us also clean up after ourselves; Others make as much mess as humanly possible. Why sprawl half a bag of chips and a tub of curry sauce across the floor like some drunken abstract painting when you can smear it over the chairs too? Better still, why not just smash the driver in the face with a donor kebab on the way out. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind cleaning that up either.

Your food looks rank, smells rank and leaving it behind is the height of bad manners. Shameless.

…Plays music too loudly:

I’ve actually had a driver stop the bus before, get out from his seat and tell me to turn my music down before. Good on him. I had no idea my headphones were that loud since it was my first time using them. Folks, white Ipod headphones are ridiculously loud as are most of the large ear muffs. Everyone can hear your music and you’re the only one that enjoys Raggaeton. Do your fellow passengers a favour and either play something semi-decent or turn it down. You’re making everyone’s hangover worse.

…Does the following during a flight:

Stand up during takeoff; Take off your socks; Use my table tray; Steal a handful of Kit-Kats from the Cabin Crew station; Ask for your hot meal before everyone else; Verbally abuse your wife; Make a phone call; Take full advantage of the complimentary drink service and proceed to get absolutely hammered; Wake me up to complain about the flight; Put your feet up on my side, using my legs as a rest.

Yes, this all actually happened during an incredibly long-haul flight to New York, emanating from an incredibly absurd man.

…Bugs someone daily by:

Sorting out your hair/putting on make up – Can you not get up ten minutes earlier or is it a part of your morning routine to brush someone in the face with your pony tail?

Knowingly practising bad personal hygiene – Sneezing on the back of someone; Coughing; Picking your nose; Constantly snorting; Bad Breath. Not pleasant.

Sitting on the aisle seat on a packed train/bus – And then look bemused when asked to move to let someone in. Are you for real? You should be walking to work if you are that anti-social. Oh, and you might want to move your bag too.

Asking the driver for detailed directions – You’ve just spent five minutes looking through your wallet for the correct change and now you want to hold the bus up even longer?

And finally…

Not allowing people the right of way – Let people off the train/bus before you get on folks. It will make everyone’s lives a lot easier.

That’s all my public transport gripes. What’s yours?

I’m guilty of putting my feet on chairs. Just saying…

How To Survive: Travelling As a Couple

Thinking of a big trip with your other half? Great! I can’t even begin to explain what travel has done for me as a person and to share that experience with someone you love makes the trip that bit more special.

But I’ll be honest: I said I never would go travelling with a partner. Why? Well because I can’t stand my own company half of the time, never mind someone else’s.

However things change and I ended up on a four month trip with my girlfriend after 15 months of travelling on my own. So folks, the following advice is purely based on my experiences. Take what you will from it but I stick by every word.

Go For The Right Reasons

I’ve never quite understood the expression ‘make or break a relationship’. Why put each other in extreme, high-pressured situations in order to save your relationship? I don’t understand the logic behind it.

If you are looking to salvage a relationship for whatever reason, travel isn’t the way to go about it.

Being on the road can be stressful and can put unthinkable strain on one another. It is imperative that you are both in the right place emotionally and mentally, and to use another expression ‘read from the same page’.

If your heart isn’t in it or you can tell your partner’s isn’t, don’t do it. There will be harder tests ahead and new complications will arise faster than the old ones being resolved. It is likely a bigger wedge will be driven between you than you end up coming closer together. Before you book, be sensible about it. Talk it through, weigh up the pros and cons, be honest with each other and most importantly, be realistic otherwise you may be setting yourself up for a disaster on a big scale.

Give Each Other Space And Communicate.

There’s no avoiding the fact that you will drive each other mad at some stage. Even strong and experienced couples need their personal space.

Unless you are behind bars, no one expects you to put up with someone 24/7. It’s not normal and it can be destructive if given enough time.

Some of my favourite people on the road have been couples and a lot of the time I had no idea they were even together to begin with. Whether it be hostel common rooms, in the dorms or at the bar, you should make the effort in talking to other people. It’s a great way to off-load some steam and you need the outside interaction to keep the relationship healthy.

Here’s a thought:

For a moment, think about what all your bad habits are. Now think about things about you that may annoy other people. Got them? Now ask your partner to do the same and laugh about them now, because folks, when you are with each other for long periods of time, you will experience them all, and believe me; they won’t be that funny.

Try not to let any underlying anger build up. Say what’s on your mind before it gets to that stage but also be careful not to pick on silly things. Be kind with your words and save the sarcasm; It doesn’t help.

If there is no one to talk to and you need your space for whatever reason, you’ll know yourself the best way to approach it and what works for you. Personally I avoided things like “You’re doing my head in. I’m away out for a beer” and generally went with “I’m just away to check if that place does breakfast.”

But I am by no means perfect; There were times where I went for breakfast and came home hammered…

Keep Your finances Separate.

Money is a monster that will rear its ugly head more often than not on your trip. It’s your lifeline and you would be nowhere without it. No matter how well you budget there will be times where you spend more than you should. It’s normal.

You will be sharing most things on your trip (hotel rooms, taxis, food etc.) but money shouldn’t be one of them until you feel comfortable doing so. We actually combined our money towards the end but to start out I wouldn’t recommend it. Why? Because things can get complicated fast:

Take turns in paying or split things 50/50. It’s likely that this was working for you back home so why change it now?

You worked and saved hard for this trip, so your money is personal. Keep it that way.

Don’t be too tight. If you see a nice restaurant you want to eat in, do it! You can always cut back another time.

Wasting your own money is easy and you only have yourself to blame. Wasting your partner’s or vice-versa is asking for trouble.

Remember you don’t have to do everything together. Encourage each other to spend money
on the things you enjoy. You never know when you will be back so don’t ask too many questions and just go for it.

Have the same budget but don’t stick to it religiously. Relax, have fun and don’t let money take over your trip.

Accept Certain Inevitabilities.

I’m not the jealous type, but in Malaysia I got so fed up with guys staring at my girlfriend that I started to walk a few paces ahead of her so I didn’t have it in my face constantly. It happens and there’s no point in getting upset about something you can’t control.

You will be on public transport often and this can be stressful, especially when you just want to be on your own and you’re exhausted from the long day.

You will fall out over silly little thing’s that really don’t matter.

You will get lost at some stage looking for your hostel.

You will get ripped off by someone. Let it slide. There’s nothing you can do afterwards and the blame game only inflames a situation.

I could go on…

Love And Respect One Another

Enjoy, embrace, don’t take yourselves too seriously and remember why you wanted to go on this amazing journey together in the first place.

Don’t lose sight of the fact that someone loves you enough to want to be with you all the time.

Be kind, thoughtful, and appreciate each others strengths. Forget their weaknesses.

Look at the bigger picture.

Your time on the road will be over before you know it. Make the most of it. You never know if you will be back in these places again.

8 Foods to Try in Scotland

8 Foods to Try in Scotland

Scottish cuisine. What’s not to like?

Who needs Al Fresco dining when you can skip lunch, head to the pub, stagger home at 3am with a lasagne pie – that’s a lasagne in a pie folks and yes, it does exist – and share your chips with seagulls the size of eagles. Besides, catching that one day of sunshine a year when you can actually sit outside, is never guaranteed.

Being Scottish myself, I feel obliged to add before I compile this list that trying all eight within a short period of time may result in you needing a place to lie down or at worse, an ambulance.

Joking aside, (no promises) Scotland boasts some of the finest natural produce that is respected worldwide: Famed for our high quality seafood and meat, we are a small country that packs a large culinary punch. We have plenty to be proud of but of course, generally, with high quality comes a high price tag. So with that being said, you won’t be breaking the bank with these eats, but you may end up breaking your diet.

Haggis

To answer a common question, haggis traditionally consists of sheep’s liver, heart and lung minced with suet (fat), onion, oats and spices and encased in sausage casing (sheep stomach originally) for cooking. Sound good? No? I totally get where you’re coming from but trust me, haggis is delicious. Readily available in most pubs, butchers and supermarkets and commonly served with mashed potato (tatties) and neeps (turnip) there is nothing flashy about our national dish. Good, honest, food that will guarantee to leave you satisfied. Who needs finesse anyway?

Stovies

There are two places you are likely to find stovies in Scotland: A working man’s pub; And a late night bakery. Simple in it’s execution – potatoes, beef, onions, butter/fat and stock confined to one pan – stovies should be served with oatcakes and beetroot. Winter food at it’s best and my personal favourite.

Full Scottish Breakfast

Said to cure even the worst of hangovers, (still to be proven on me) a full breakfast is somewhat of a Sunday morning ritual for bleary eyed party goers, early and late risers alike – many cafés will even offer breakfast all day. What exactly a breakfast consists of is open to debate but generally you can expect: Bacon, egg, sausage, beans, black pudding, (which I’ll get to later) tattie scone, tomato, mushrooms and toast, all washed down with a pot of tea or coffee and orange juice. You know, for vitamin C. Oh, and a newspaper is essential.

Cullen Skink

Representing soups – and fish (shout out to Arbroath Smokies) – Cullen skink consists of smoked haddock, potatoes and onions and is a local speciality of the town of Cullen in the North-East, however, you will find it on many Scottish menus nationwide. This soup is seriously tasty and although quite heavy – depending on the cream, butter and milk content – you will find yourself wanting more. Fresh, toasted bread is not optional – it’s mandatory.

Pudding

Walk into any take away chip shop – commonly referred to as ‘chippy’ or ‘chipper’ – and you will see rows of prepared food from steak pies to pizza to the ever popular fish and chips – by and large refereed to as a ‘fish supper’. And of course, most places would happily make a battered Mars bar for you.

As an alternative, why not try a pudding? – not to be confused as something sweet as in Scotland we also call dessert ‘pudding.’

Made primarily of blood, varied meat and oatmeal, black pudding is common in Scotland with Stornoway on the Isle of Lewis being particularly famous for having fantastic and good quality pudding. You will also likely find white pudding – without blood – ready to take away as well as red pudding which is similar to black but less common.

Cranachan

Ever present on the dessert menu of many Scottish hotels, Cranachan is a crowd pleaser: Cream; honey; whisky; soaked oats and raspberries. I don’t know about you, but add a coffee on the side and I’m pretty much sold. One of your five a day as well. Done deal.

Rowies

Common throughout the North-East of Scotland, it is said rowies were originally created for sailors going on long journeys out to sea; The high fat content was designed to keep the rowie – also known as a ‘buttery’ – from going stale. Consisting primarily of flour, salt, lard, oil/butter and usually spread with jam, you may need to work a bit harder on the treadmill after a morning rowie. Think of a flat croissant but forget the flat stomach.

Curry

Traditional Scottish dishes aside, foreign cuisine is just as much a part of Scotland’s identity. With a multi cultural country comes multi cultural food; From Polish to Turkish, Scotland boasts a healthy and diverse café/restaurant scene.

Glasgow in particular is famous for a great curry serving up regional classics as well as crossing over to the likes of a haggis pakora. There is some serious quality to be found and at competitive prices so hunting down a good curry house is a must in Scotland. Being that curry is one the nations favourite, you won’t be searching for too long.

Online: The Early Years.

At fourteen years old, I had one of three reasons to be home by 6pm: Grounded; Dinner’s ready; too dark outside to play football.  

By fifteen, I’d rush home at five thirty in preparation for 6pm: mulling around upstairs in a room that had not been used for anything other than a dumping ground for paperwork, old VHS tapes and other miscellaneous, unloved clutter. Despite years of neglect and with zero redeeming features, this room was about to become the epicentre of my world. As 6pm approached, I would check that my mum wasn’t on the phone. The trusted telephone that had served our family for years was now becoming an afterthought, limited, shunned and playing second fiddle to a new form of communication. As the clock struck six, I’d stretch down to press the button on the bulky, grey box that sat awkwardly under the desk. I’d wait impatiently for the system to start as it sluggishly and loudly progressed through the gears, eventually settling into a calming, hypnotic drone after nearly destroying my eardrums. The noise was somewhat familiar, having grown up with a Spectrum and an Amiga 500. But I couldn’t recall it being that loud and obnoxious. Even the phone downstairs would echo out this chorus, despite being relegated to nothing more than useless plastic, wires and numbers. It was almost as if the phone was screaming out a slow and painful death. But the sound of dial up was also the sound of the year 2000. The sound of my early teens. And the sound of the new family computer. 

As soon as silence filled the room I’d hit ‘connect’.  

With one click of the mouse I was ‘dialling’ on to the internet.  

As ‘surfing’ the internet (is this still even used as a phrase?) was free after 6pm, I would spend much of the evening online. My early memories of this were as equally confusing as it was exciting. I would often wonder: should I be looking at this? and: what the fuck am I looking at? Worryingly, twenty-two years later, not much has changed in that regard. 

Despite my eagerness to log on, I still had no idea where to start at first. There was so much to take in, and it was all very unfamiliar. But I was intrigued, fascinated and instantly hooked. 

I started by stumbling across solutions to problems that only a fifteen-year-old could have in the year 2000. I no longer had to listen to the charts on a Sunday afternoon, waiting patiently for my favourite song to come on so I could push ‘record’ on a blank cassette tape. I now had ‘LimeWire’ to cater for all my music needs. I would scour ‘Kerrang’, ‘Scuzz’ and ‘P-Rock’ music channels on the living room TV downstairs, on the hunt for new pop, nu-metal and punk-rock songs to download. Access to music in this way, despite still being at a fairly primitive stage, was incredible. Some songs could take up to an hour to download. But that was the price to pay for being a little pirate and wrecking the new computer with viruses. 

I also no longer had to hide smutty magazines underneath my mattress (old school). 

I now had to figure out how to hide files (new school). 

If I wanted to see Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee on a private yacht (I did) I Just had to give it a few hours (over the course of several days) to download. Video preview didn’t always work either, so I usually had no idea if what I thought I was downloading, was actually what I was downloading. I would soon get accustomed to the disappointment of expecting BOOBS… 

…but getting balls.

Doubly disappointing if the file promised ‘.mov’ when in reality it was ‘.cam’. 

As an alternative, I could run the gauntlet of adult websites in the hope that there was free content available. But I was also naive in regards to viruses and the like and soon learned that such sites had the tendency to pounce at any moment with a sexy pop-up ad or some flashy banner. My parents would see these occasionally too when they used the computer for…printing? Ebay? I don’t know. In any case, I ran out of excuses and mates to blame fairly quickly.  

Flash animation was also a big thing in the late ninety’s and early 2000’s: For me, this was the original time waster. Joe Cartoon’s was a favourite of mine. Interactive animations such as ‘Gerbil in a Microwave’ and ‘Frog in a Blender’, where you could control the gruesome fate of insulting, talking animals with a click of the mouse, was just the right level of ‘cool’ for me and my friends at the time. They would also form the foundations for most of the shit that was spoken at school:  

“Who’s your Daddy? Me! Wanna know why I’m your Daddy? Cuz I did it to your mammaaaaaa!” 

Classic? If you don’t know it, then probably not. Oh, and if you’re wondering, no: I’ve never put a frog in a blender.  

I love my blender.  

From there and in-between games of Rollercoaster Tycoon, The Sims and Soldier Of Fortune, I would enter new unchartered territories in the form of online forums, MSN Messenger, Bebo, Myspace and chat rooms.  

Suddenly, my world felt a hell of a lot bigger.  

The low angled white ceilings, of my parents’ dingy upstairs spare room now became a social hub of activity. Where I would learn how to communicate and express myself through an ever-evolving digital world. I was now 16/17. And everything. Absolutely everything…was so fucking stimulating and exciting. My overall identity and social engagements were now a hybrid of online and real life. For the next few years, every house party I went too, gig I attended, drug dealer I’d visit, date I’d go on; friends and enemies made and lost; and experiences I’d never forget, mostly started from those low angled ceilings (and eventually downstairs with the purchase of my first laptop) and ended all over the City of Aberdeen where I stayed until I was twenty-one. 

“Sludge” was my online name. A name that would stick with me until Bebo, MySpace and forums died a slow death, consumed and replaced by Facebook – which was literally like letting your parents into your online world for the first time and meeting a version of you and your friends that they had never met before. For me, things were just never the same. 

The ‘scene’ and the ‘kids’ within it, also started dying a slow death in Aberdeen. Friends that were once in bands were now split up, grown up or moved on and some of my favourite music venues closed their doors.  Social circles now became smaller and more defined, as people went off to Uni or got into full-time work. Most people now communicated through Facebook or via text message.  

MSN Messenger was dead, replaced by Facebook Messenger. 

There was also now a rise in console gaming, which left me feeling left out and out of the loop. I just wasn’t into HALO, World Of Warcraft, or anything else that incorporated gaming with socialising. It’s just not my bag and still isn’t in many ways – even though I own and regularly play a VR headset which is made for it.  

I’m on the edge of the Metaverse, curiously looking in… 

But in 2022, I have found my online community again through Twitter and Instagram. And although it will never have the same appeal and magic as those heady and wild early online years, it has provided me a sense of community and belonging yet again. But these platforms also have a shelf life. And although my online world can be as expansive as I want it to be, I’m at a crossroads with what percentage of my life I want to commit to connections online; and how much of it I want to dedicate to “real” life. For me, the lines have never been blurrier as both are, in a lot of ways, very much the same. Communication as we know it has evolved as has the world we live in, and it’s difficult at times not to have one without the other.  

Am I excited about where online is heading? No, not really. Will I be as active as I am now? Who knows…but at least I’ll never have to run the gauntlet of downloading songs and porn again. 

God bless Spotify and VPN’s. 

Travelling: The Day I Said Goodbye.

After years of procrastinating, months of saving and dozens of sleepless nights, the time had finally come to leave Aberdeen. For how long? I didn’t know. All I knew is that I wanted it so badly.

Despite their differences, my family had gathered – Mum, Dad, both Grandmas and Grandad – but I had made it clear that I didn’t want a sending off at the airport. My parents were going through a divorce and not on talking terms; my Grandmother from my Mum’s side and father hadn’t spoken in years; and I was a nervous wreck. Not ideal. This would be an important moment in my life, but I hadn’t thought about how significant it would mean to them. They were proud, supportive and would certainly miss me, and of course they wanted to say goodbye. The life that awaited me was within touching distance; A more familiar life, for now, could not have been closer.

Scattered tactically around the restaurant table, my family watched on as I sipped on strong coffee, rifled through my documents frantically, and enjoyed the last Scottish breakfast I’d be eating for a while. I was very much given room to breathe, something to which I had been missing for months prior. There was little in terms of conversation (although my two Grans could chat for all the tea in China) as my family remained focused on me and the trip. They tentatively judged and changed the pace depending on the ever shifting vibe around the table, in an attempt to form a delicate environment for me to star as I stepped up to centre stage. But in truth, I had said most of what I wanted to the weeks before and was surprisingly doing a good enough job of keeping it together on my own. I only wanted one person with me at the airport that day. That person was my Granddad, “Pop” – a strong, wise and worldly man who gives countless great advice and is generous with his words. When the time came to leave, he would know what to say, he would know how to act, and he would give me the added strength I needed to make it through the gate. As it was, I would lead an entourage of loved ones to the airport with me that morning, despite my objections.

The mood around the table changed as the time drew closer and closer. I began to get bombarded with silly yet mandatory questions:

“Got your passport? Got everything you need? When does your flight get in? How are you getting to the hotel?.”

This unsettled me. And I could feel my family becoming restless too as what little conversation there was, descended into unsubstantiated ramblings.

I was flying to Heathrow and then onto a connecting flight to Beijing, China. The impending trip meant the world to me. I had been dreaming of it for as long as I could remember. I hated who I had become in Aberdeen: A gambler, a drunk, struggling mentally and under achieving. I was lost. But I had worked hard, (always have done; always will do) and I was proud that I was finally reaching out to my dream. A dream that was becoming a reality.

My flight was called. It was time. We, as a family, began to make the short walk to the gate. I walked ahead to buy some time as I couldn’t bare to look at my parents. This was going to hurt.

As assumed, both my Grandmothers were in tears and although there was no set order to say goodbye, I took time with them first. They couldn’t be more different: A very Aberdonian grafter, with a love for whisky, bingo, and an incessant quest to cater for my vegetarian mother, despite not really knowing what a vegetarian is. And a flamboyant, eccentric, animal loving Jehovah from South Africa to whom there is never a dull moment. I love them both equally.

I turned to my old man. I was dreading this. I harbour a lot of feelings on him, and our relationship has been, and still is, strained. We are both scarily similar to the way we walk to the way we talk, to the jobs that we do. I see so much of myself in him and he does of me. But we find it incredibly hard to relate to one another despite the similarities. We moved in for an awkward hug and I desperately wanted for us to let our guards down for just one moment. It wasn’t to be. Sadly, moments of true honesty, relaxed conversation and real bonding is few and far between. He loves me and I love him, yet, something, nothing and everything stands between us truly becoming close. Selfishly, my leaving came at a great time for me, but the worst possible time for him.

The relationship between my mother and I had also seen better days. The three of us (my parents and I) had been living under the same roof for the last six months since it was announced that they would be getting a divorce, but I couldn’t remember the last conversation that any of us had, together or otherwise. We had our own rooms now, ate at different times and tip-toed around each-other. My mother felt like she had driven me away. That wasn’t true. And I made sure she knew that. We shared a genuine moment at the gate, and I was reminded how much my mother loves me. It was hard for her to let go. I edged myself out of the death grip hug I had found myself in and pulled away. I couldn’t tell her when I’d be back as I honestly didn’t know. She was devastated I was leaving.

Then, as I approached Pop, suddenly I began to crumble. I had remained strong through out, but it was all getting a bit too much. My eyes filled up, my lip began to tremble and I knew I was about to fall apart. But before I could, he interjected with some more wise words and the wisdom to which I needed. I wanted his advice and I wanted to remember it. It felt right that he would be the last person to see me off. We shook hands firmly and I was almost there. I worried that I would never see him in good health again. Parkinson’s Disease had been slowing him down in recent months and he could well be a different man by the time I returned.

Head down, passport and boarding pass in hand, I took a deep breath and made a turn for the gate. My eyes had been pushing back tears for the last few minutes, but like faulty swimming goggles, I couldn’t keep them dry any longer. I began to sob, but out of sight from my family as I continued to walk mercifully towards the desk. I looked back only once, to let out forced smile and give a wave, passport in hand. And then as I turned the corner, it was done.

I had officially left.

Within seconds of going through, my head started spinning and my stomach did cart wheels. From feeling so loved and surrounded before, I was now feeling instantly alone. I had never felt alone in this way, although a few bad nights of gambling gave me a taste of the feeling in the weeks and months prior. Only a wall separated me from my family, but I may as well have been at the other side of the world. This was it. Sink or swim. I had been ready for this moment for a long time, going through the scenario over and over again. But nothing could prepare me for how I would feel at that moment.

As my hands trembled, I focused on pinning Scotland badges on to my bag, that my mum had bought from from the gift shop earlier. I already felt like I was flying the flag despite only travelling from the coffee shop to the steel bench at the gate.

The flight to London that morning was little over an hour long, and I cried for the sixty plus minutes. The Businessmen, with their broadsheet newspapers, tablets and designer brief cases created an interesting contrast sitting close to the bleary eyed, emotional wreck, tip-tapping his feet and glaring out the window to save face.

Upon arrival in Terminal 5, Heathrow, I had plenty of time to kill and I needed it to pull myself together. I’ve always loved airports: I love the excitement, the bustle and the people that flock to them. I find being on a plane restricting (for obvious reasons) but at the airport I’m free to roam, wonder and daydream. I’m free to celebrity spot, eat sushi and and read magazines. I’m free to eat peanut butter M&M’s, try on fourteen different after shaves and play on the escalators. I’m free to stare, peer and watch. I’m free to go where I’ve been waiting to go for years. But most of all I was free to be me. I just didn’t know what being me truly was. And as said goodbye to everything that was familiar, I was about to embark on the greatest adventure of my life.

It would be fifteen months until I would have another Scottish breakfast.

How ADHD affects me at: Home.

Having ADHD is like having 15 computer tabs open at once. My brain isn’t particularly focused on any one tab, but I am constantly labouring through shutting them all down. At its worst, my focus and thoughts are fragmented with incessant mind chatter, which can make dealing with ordinary, everyday things difficult. If new tabs are added when I’m not dealing particularly well with the ones already open, I can crash, shut down and need to reboot.  

I feel like I am constantly processing and filtering information, getting distracted, or hyper focusing on tabs that really don’t need my attention. 

Some days I have access to super-fast broadband. Some days it’s dial up. 

It’s exhausting at times.  

But medication helps me cope and manage. And, when working well, will shut down a few tabs for me.

At work, I’ve learnt to adapt over the years through a lot of personal development and finding an environment that allows for me to thrive.  

At home with no real pressures and expectations? Well, it can be a different story. 

Owning our own place has been hugely beneficial. I’ve been able to create a living space that works and functions well, and there’s nothing quite like having the freedom to make changes how and when you like – which isn’t the case whilst renting.  

Being together and living with Petra is great. I respect and appreciate her massively and I am completely relaxed at home when she’s around. She understands and accepts me for who I am and isn’t afraid to kick me up the arse and jolt me out of a mental slump when I need it. We share a lot of laughs together and communicate well. 

She would easily be able to name a few things that she finds unique/irritating about me. I get it. I don’t doubt that they will all be valid: 

I’m hyper in the mornings (very much a morning person) and I will speak and sing absolute gibberish from the moment I wake up until the moment I go to work. Behind closed doors, I am often relentlessly happy.  

Not very many people get to see that side of me in truth. 

My mood can be changeable: not personally against or directed at her I think it’s important to add here, but there are specific reasons why this is. Like everyone else, I have poor mental health days where I just struggle with basic functioning. I can be a bit rigid in my way of thinking at home, especially with any sudden change to my routine and structure.   

For example, at 3:30pm one day, Petra asked if I could clean the flat which, of course, is not an issue. 

I will absolutely get it done. 

But it instantly triggered anxiety. It was something unexpected and I didn’t have time to plan for in my day. So now, I have 5 new tabs added to my screen and it’s crashing the system, resulting in a heightened state of anxiety and feeling like I’m stuck/frozen, before I even start. 

It’s NOT laziness. I get that too! There are days where I can’t be bothered, just like everyone else. 

It’s ALL about processing time for me and being mentally prepared to tackle the day. It’s that simple.  

I don’t only like to keep busy; I need too. So keeping on top of the flat has its advantages. I’m the kind of person that will tidy up as they go along, giving myself little mental victories. Leaving it too long or putting things off only adds more tabs, so I’ve got to proactively go after it. 

Of course, there are certain tasks I enjoy doing and there’s some I really don’t.  

For example, I despise doing washing and hate folding clothes. It’s a process with several stages that takes a good bit of time from start to finish. I stress at even the thought of it. 

Yet, quite often I will fold all the blankets in the Living Room and sort the cushions out before coming to bed, as I struggle with mess and visual chaos.  Likewise with any other room in the flat: I need order and a clean space, otherwise my mind feels cluttered and messy too. If my living space feels in control, then mind does also.  

The kitchen is very much my bag. Because of my background in hospitality, I like to have everything organised before I start cooking. I need a clear space to function, otherwise I feel like I’m not starting the task in the right way. I can cook…when I’m invested and cooking for anyone but myself. I’ll even have most of the cleaning up done before the food hits the table.  

Cleaning aside, I find being alone at home (for an excessive amount of time) with my own thoughts challenging, and an empty flat with idle time can be my enemy. If I’m going to struggle with ADHD, it is likely in these circumstances. Out and about, solo travel, and even dinner/drinks alone somewhere? No problem at all with zero stress or anxiety. There’s enough going on to keep me mentally occupied.  

It’s a complete departure from how I feel behind closed doors. 

The truth is, I’m uncomfortable in my own company at home. Over the years, I haven’t been too kind to myself: passing the time with gambling, drinking, smoking weed, and clock watching – literally counting down the hours and minutes until I deemed it acceptable to go to bed. I’ve had some dark moments on my own where my mind is racing, and I just can’t switch off. I have to really tackle head on the constant mind chatter I spoke of earlier. I think Petra worries a bit about me when she goes home to Germany or away for work. Although being alone isn’t easy at times, I can cope and handle it fine if I plan ahead.  

I’m not the kind to pick up the phone or text people either, so it would help me if I got better at this and reach out more. 

With all this said, the biggest difference between me pre-ADHD diagnosis and now, is that I’m self-aware. And I can be mentally uncomfortable without hitting the self-destruct button. Those days are past now and I feel fully in control, even if I can’t switch off this fucking brain of mine.  

I can drag myself to the gym on bad mental health days; I can post on social media and feel connected in that way; I sleep and eat well, which wasn’t always the case; I have a wonderful, supportive wife and a beautiful, functional living space; I’ve learnt to adapt and not let ADHD get the better of me. 

And sure, sometimes my brain is super fast broadband; sometimes its dial up, but I wouldn’t want to trade it in.  

It’s just the way it’s programmed. 

It works well enough for me.  

How ADHD affects me at: work.

For most of my teen years and into my twenties, I floated in and out of hospitality work: pulling pints, waiting tables, grafting long hours in the kitchen. You name it; I’ve probably done it.  

The conversation of ADHD never came up as I was able to cope in this type of environment. I thrive in busy settings with a clear structure, goal and hierarchy, which hospitality provided me with in abundance.

I also found this type of work mentally stimulating which, for me, really is half the battle.  

I got away with a lot: partly due to working alongside some colourful characters over the years who didn’t know their spoons from their soufflé’s; and partly due to being genuinely good at what I did. I was often the least of a manager’s concerns as I was reliable, turned up on time, and grafted – even on an hour of sleep or dealing with a pounding hangover… This was good enough for most employers. 

I could (and probably still can) juggle a busy kitchen or front of house with minimal stress. Like most areas of my life, it all boils down to being mentally busy (an idle brain is my enemy…) and being prepared, having control, routine, predictability, organisation and structure. That really is the magic formula.  

Also, working in hospitality is often task orientated which suited me well: setting up for service, peeling 20 kilos of carrots; putting through orders etc. It’s often the same thing day in and out consistently, so I often didn’t have the time to over think things.  

Of course, I occasionally made mistakes which I always found embarrassing and frustrating, because I often couldn’t figure out how and why I fucked up. I would tend to be harsh on my own “performance” for making such basic errors seemingly out of nowhere. For example, putting through an order incorrectly or messing up a recipe that I had to follow closely.

On so many levels from an ADHD sense, hospitality was perfect for me. But on a career progression and personal level? I was burnt out, bored, underpaid/underappreciated and living a chaotic lifestyle of shift work and going out.  

The demanding tourist trade of Edinburgh put the final nail in the hospitality coffin, and I took my last order when I was 26. I simply needed a fresh start and a new challenge. And boy did I get it… 

Nowhere to hide.

I became an “Assistant Support Worker” in temporary homeless accommodation, at a time where my gambling was getting out of control again and my mental health was poor. The latter, I really didn’t recognise entirely despite being prescribed anti-depressants from my GP.  

Although I liked the job itself (supporting vulnerable people, which I still do now) it was a steep learning curve and I faced challenges. I had a hard time adapting to an office environment: the noise, the four walls, the bitching, the paperwork, the boredom, the phone calls, the incessant vapid chatter and the lack of personal space. It really was toxic behind the scenes, and I would count down the minutes until the staff went home, so I could do my job properly without any distractions. I felt untrusted and marginalised by management very quickly and, in turn, I didn’t trust them. I just wanted to get my head down, learn the ropes, and be supported to do my work properly, away from all the gossip and nonsense that plagued the place.  

Being the environment it was, it wasn’t long until my personal struggles had a spotlight shined brightly upon on them and I was put under a lot of pressure.  

The following are some examples from my supervision notes that I’ve held on to for years. I’m not sure why…maybe I was struck with how much it illuminated traits in me that I wasn’t aware of. I also needed them at the time for evidence as this (along with input from my partner and school reports) would result with me getting a diagnosis of ADHD from a Psychiatrist and put on medication. 

I would also go on to leave my job voluntarily. It really hurt me having to read feedback like this every few weeks. It felt like a character assassination. I don’t deny that any of these points are true or didn’t happen. They are all the kinds of things that I really struggled with before being medicated for ADHD. It just felt like a relentless witch hunt, and I was scared to make any mistakes – which resulted in me making more. 

“I requested from you in February to have your photo taken and display on the project board. This wasn’t completed in March, and we are now into April, and this is still goes uncompleted, despite further discussion from myself and prompting.” 

“A situation occurred in the office where a contractor delivered an office chair to replace a damaged one that was delivered when you were on shift. I asked you if the chair in the boiler room had been uplifted and you replied that you knew nothing of the request. I assured you that I had written it in the logbook. You looked at me vaguely and explained “I wrote in the beginning and the end of the page and assumed the rest was written by me. I’m sorry. I missed it.” 

“You disclosed at times that you feel frustrated when staff are discussing things in the office as they keep revisiting items – which interrupts your train of thought, leading you to make mistakes. Darren, it’s not what you say but how you say it and how you manage your body language at such times – which can come across as negative.” 

“I feel it may be a good idea Darren, to read over procedures in areas that you are uncertain about as you have stated on a few occasions that you have “not taken on board/remembered at the time of induction” as it was a lot of information.” 

“You were sent an email asking if you could come in early. You arrived at 12:30pm and appeared to have forgotten what was originally agreed.” 

“I stressed the need for you to listen and follow instructions given particularly in task orientated requests, as at times you appeared vague when understanding requests.” 

“I received an email today advising me you lost your keys. Careless Darren. I realise you have since found them, that said, it raised further concerns.” 

“You advised me that the phone was dead, and you couldn’t find a charger. I went into the office expecting to have to hunt for them, however I opened the drawer, and they were both there.” 

“Mid conversation with you, I paused to write something down. You disappeared into the Garden, and I had to follow you to finish our conversation. No awareness Darren”. 

“Petty Cash: this went unchecked over the weekend. I personally explained this to you previously”. 

“There are times when you are advised of things and given instructions but struggle to follow through. For example, when you are locked out of the computer. As there are other similar points, I can only conclude that you are not listening properly. Or is there another reason Darren?” 

Resulting meeting with Human Resources: 

“I have outlined areas of concern regarding practice performance issues re development needs and potential contributing factors to errors occurring. I explained this meeting was to support Darren as he may require medical intervention (Darren’s own admission re possible ADHD). I asked where the suggestion came from re possible ADHD came from. Darren stated from parents and partner.  

We touched on many examples of situations occurring communication, lack of awareness and how this was having a detrimental effect. We outlined need for Darren to attend the GP to take further steps. Darren outlined that he knows where issues have occurred and prefers to be told there and then where he went wrong (as opposed to management saying nothing at the time and instead putting it in writing) and be treated with dignity and respect like everyone else. We outlined that this would be the case based on an outcome from the GP, where we could implement additional support mechanisms. That said, Darren needs to be aware that if support is given and there are still no improvements, it could lead to performance management, a disciplinary or result in releasing Darren from his position, given the nature of his job role.  

Darren was complimented on aspects of his job and personality (people person) and advised to take feedback on board and to remain positive – as hopefully GP intervention may ease the burden of his concerns.” 

It was the first time that I had issues in any workplace, and I was embarrassed, shocked, and completely lost my confidence. I was trying my best. But whether I agree with their approach or not, I accept that they were likely seeing things in me that I wasn’t seeing in myself. 

Finally…some answers. 

I was set up with an appointment quickly which was quite unusual. I was expecting to wait for months as many people do, especially as an adult. I remember being twitchy/restless and talking 1000 miles per hour during the assessment.  

After one hour of rapid fire chatting with a Psychiatrist I was told: 

“You are classic ADHD and I would like to try you with medication.” 

I was in total disbelief as I wasn’t expecting a diagnosis at all. I was there for my employer, not myself – I had completely lost sight of who I was at this point, and it genuinely shocked me. It was a lot to process, and I was forced to take a long hard look at myself for the first time.  

This day essentially became the next, healthier chapter of my life and everything began falling into place from there: 

I handed my notice in at work, as I was never going to be happy after being analysed the way I was and got a job where I could lone work and not be office based. 

Ditched the anti-depressants (which wasn’t right for me) and started regularly medicating for ADHD – not depression, which I didn’t have. 

I got mentally and physically stronger.  

I managed to stop gambling. For good.  

I also started meeting up regularly with Jade: a part-time volunteer who I always got on well with. She was training to become a Life Coach and I received free help and support from her on the way out the door. Coaching really changed my life forever and I’ll always be grateful for her showing kindness and believing in me. I went on to complete the same certification in coaching as she did. 

Eight years later, I’m a completely different person. 

I needed to get to grips with how and why I function the way I do, understand it and embrace it. I also needed to be more honest/kinder to myself, my employers and to others so people can better understand and support me if I need it.  

I now work mostly outdoors in an environment that is a perfect fit for me, with management who fully support and value the work that I do. I’m happy.  

I haven’t had any kind or work performance issues nor a disciplinary since. 

Oh, and I don’t need to worry about a fucking photo on the wall.  
 
 

2014: The Actual Photo.

How ADHD affected me at: School

“There is nothing wrong with his hearing” was the general conclusion to the Audiologist appointment my parents took me to when I was younger. They couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t processing and understanding information in the same way other kids do, so they assumed I couldn’t hear.  

I could hear and understand perfectly well and, as far as I’m aware, (digging way deep into the memory banks here…) ADHD was never discussed, nor do I think it needed to be at that time. 

My whole childhood was a surreal and trippy experience. I was a very happy child with a huge amount of creativity and imagination. I was also a sleepwalker. Experienced night terrors and talked to imaginary friends. I was passionate about wildlife and nature and loved cartoons and wrestling. I was socially developing and had real life friends, despite often being wrapped up in my own world.  

Simpler times. 

Becoming a teenager and going through school was when I truly started to struggle with what I recognize now as ADHD traits, but at the time it was just seen as ‘under achieving’, ‘being disruptive’, ‘talking too much’ in class and ‘lacking attention to detail’ (I’ll come back to this point later…) And look, for sure there was going to be some of that going on diagnosis or not. But do I think a combination of medication and the right level support could have helped me through? It’s hard to say for the former, but I’m completely sure on the latter.  

I went to a large, inner city public school which wasn’t the best but I’m not knocking it as such. Overall, school was enjoyable. It wasn’t a bad experience, and I wasn’t a ‘bad kid’. But I was difficult to teach at times and, on an academic level, my success hinged purely on my relationship with the teacher and the environment I found myself in.  

To give you a good example: I was kicked out of my Higher Geography class for not meeting grades – a class that I had a genuine interest in. I was sat near my friends (bad move), and it was easier for the teacher at the time to just put me down a class/get rid of me rather than persevere.  

A level down: I had a great relationship with my new teacher – he had a good sense of humour and took the time to get to know me. I also had my own desk, and it was a much smaller class with less distractions. 

Come exam time, I achieved my first (and last) A. 

I know I could achieve at Higher level too, as this was a similar story in a couple of other classes I attended. As for the rest: any class I found boring or if I didn’t get on with the teacher, I was kicked out of. Others, I would skip. I’d also act up in some classes as I just didn’t find them stimulating enough.  

Good/understanding teacher = better grades.  

They call that a formula.  

See…I did learn something. 

To sum things up, (I was shit at Math’s though…) I needed the right level of support and environment to prosper. Extra time in exams might have helped me. Access to a mentor such as a guidance teacher could have helped too. But instead, I found myself being bounced around detention, stripped of privileges, and playing cards in the dining hall when I should have been studying. 

While most of my friends went on to university, became apprentices, or worked in the Oil and Gas Industry, I left school with a few mediocre grades in random subjects and felt as directionless as ever. It was a waste of potential, but I think there’s far too much pressure on young people to ‘achieve’ at this stage in their lives and I just wasn’t mentally mature enough or ready to make such big decisions.  

‘Attention to detail’ 

A lot of which I’ve spoken about above might be a familiar/relatable story to many of you who went to school and without a diagnosis of ADHD. I get it. Some of this is learning how to navigate life and part of growing up. That said, I do believe that undiagnosed ADHD provided me with added challenges. Some of my behavioural traits were the direct result of frustration and not being able to cope overly well. Others I just accepted as part of who I am as I’d always been told “that’s Darren…”

Could medication have helped? Probably. But only if the support was available too.  

‘Mental Health’ was rarely spoken about back then and I had zero knowledge of how my brain worked and functioned. I was hugely disorganized, and I felt like the simplest of things provided the most difficulties. Even if I recognised, I was having issues (which I often didn’t…) I wouldn’t have spoken about them. I’d chalk things off as “too hard” or “too boring” and move on. At that age, I was too young to fully appreciate what was going on so I muddied through. 

Here’s a few examples: 

• I didn’t turn up to my higher music exam, as I completely forgot about it and was out walking my dogs. I failed the whole class as a result.  

• A teacher once threw a chair across the room at me in frustration, resulting in her kicking me out of her class for good. She was frustrated as she told me several times to stop talking and I didn’t. I bumped into her again at a funeral years later. She referred to me as “Tourette’s Boy”.  

• My backpack was always a mess of crumpled up papers, drawings and doodles.  

• I spent a whole exam writing about Russia, when we hadn’t learnt about Russia that year. Our teacher told the class repeatedly to IGNORE this question on exam day. He managed to wrangle me more time at the end, but I nearly failed the exam as a result.  

• I was tasked with doing the cover art for the school yearbook. I didn’t do it in time, so they gave it to another pupil to do.  

• I was the only pupil in my year to not allowed to be a ‘prefect’ (looking out for the younger pupils and being a good ambassador in a nutshell…) as I wasn’t deemed responsible enough. 

• I’d often find myself at the back/the front of the classroom, or at a table by myself. Wherever was the least disruptive for everyone else.  

• I’d do better in classes that allowed for me to be creative or I found interesting: Art, Drama, Sports, Modern Studies, Music, Geography, English. 

• I failed at classes that required attention to detail and concentration: Math’s, Technical Studies, Chemistry, Computing, etc 

Upon leaving school, I couldn’t go to Uni with the mish mash of grades I achieved so I went to college for a year – but dropped out halfway through due to poor grades. I’d been working part-time since I turned thirteen, so naturally I began to work full-time. I went straight into the family business – where not only were my quirks accepted; they were hidden and managed in a job where I thrived and was good at.  

But I also started smoking too much weed and partied most nights of the week, so I still didn’t even begin to get to grips with and truly understand my own mental health. There was a lot of numbing, destructive behaviour in those years.  

I wouldn’t get my diagnosis of ADHD until my mid-twenties.  

And despite all that I’ve said and going to say in the next blog post, it genuinely came as a shock to me.  

The Big Step – A Personal Reflection.

The Big Step is a campaign project formed and run by people who have suffered gambling harm. We are a part of Gambling With Lives, a charity set up by bereaved family members and friends who have lost loved ones due to gambling-related suicide.

It was the morning of The Big Step and I knew I was anxious: Double checking the front door was locked; being generally forgetful; struggling to actively listen and process conversation; hyper and scattered – classic traits from years past and all signs that I am finding it hard to process the upcoming trip.

When we eventually got on the road – after cleaning bird shit off the car for the second time that week – I was driving like a nervous teenager, sitting their practical.

It’s funny (or potentially fatal come to think of it…) how my brain works. There’s nothing quite like a change of routine, a bit of excitement and a bright yellow hoodie to knock me off centre.

Although I am a constant work in progress (as I should be), I’m completely comfortable and fully understand how I function. Reacting in such a way is usually a sign that I am invested and that I care.

Now in my mid-thirties and six years without a bet, I tend to have a strong grip on how I generally operate and can roll with most things. But occasionally, I can become overwhelmed in social situations when there’s too much going on, especially around people I don’t know. It can lead to me completely disengaging, going off on my own, and doing my own thing (which can present itself as brutally obvious although rarely personal) whilst I take time to settle in and work things out.

Alternatively, I’ll hit the beers, latch on to a couple of people that I can instantly relate to, and get loose without making the effort to get to know other people – partly, to avoid being socially awkward or risk offending anyone. I can be sharp at times.

I didn’t particularly want either of those scenarios for this trip but I wasn’t sure what version of me would turn up.

The reality is, that not many people in my family (my wonderful wife and some close friends aside) who I should be close with know me that well:

My sister cut me out of her life seven years ago (nothing to do with gambling) and I have two nephews I have never met. I have no idea if she knows what I’m up-to.

My grandad who I was close with, died of Parkinson’s a couple of years back – I tend to push my emotions down but I know that I miss him.

I’m content for both my grandmothers to be oblivious to my gambling past.

I’m not regularly in touch with anyone in my extended family.

My parents? If anything, I’ve pushed them further away since being active in the online community and I’m still not fully comfortable with them following my story and progress. I shut them out, and I know this. But I know that they are proud of me and we are good people. It’s our collective baggage along with poor communication that is holding us back. 

As the mini-bus full of yellow clad ‘Big Steppers’ pulled into Gretna FC, I was immediately disarmed of all my quirks. I have heard their stories; I’ve followed their progress; I’ve gotten to know them somewhat online; and now I’m meeting them in the flesh.

Straight-away, I already felt like I knew these people; and I felt like they knew me.

The group have one big thing in common: we have all been harmed by gambling either directly or indirectly. And that brings with it a feeling of togetherness – along with a personal connection that is profound and truly special.

As the walking commenced and the weekend unfolded, we trekked our way down through The Lake District. I was blown away by the genuine kindness and the warmth of everyone involved. The perfect weather, awesome lunch spots, and glorious scenery was an added bonus and despite the blisters and weary legs, I enjoyed every moment of it.

I only signed up for the weekend (50 miles) and not the full 10 days (nearly 300 miles) but come Sunday when it was time to say goodbye, I wanted to stay and keep walking. Not so much for the physical feat, but to offer my support to the others.

For someone who has learned to let their guard down a bit more in recent times (laying it all out for the world to see online has helped) this weekend really meant a lot to me. I want you all to know, that It felt like I was leaving friends and family behind. It will live with me forever.

A heart-felt thank you and a huge well done to everyone involved. And thank you to The Big Step for having me along. Your efforts and personal sacrifices are inspirational.

Darren.

5 Tips For a Gamble Free Christmas.

Well, we are nearing that time of the year already.

Again…

For Gamblers (and affected others) Christmas can be particularly tough. If you are worried about gambling over Christmas, here’s a few tips you might find helpful:

1) Plan for Payday: If you are working full-time, part-time or in receipt of benefits, you are probably going to be paid early over Christmas. This is likely to be more than you usually receive and on a day that’s unusual to you. Plan for this now! Consider asking someone you trust to help you with managing your money, if you are concerned about a gambling session on payday.

2) Keep to a routine: Hard these days, I know. Nothing seems to be certain. But with the ample time off many of us will have, try and either develop a routine tailored for the holidays; or make a conscious effort to stick to the routine you have. Boredom, over indulgence and too much time cooked up indoors can be factors and may lead to gambling binges.

3) Install a Gamble Block on your devices and/or Self Exclude from gambling: The sporting calendar is full on over Christmas, especially with football. If you know this is likely to be a trigger for you, get the blocks in. You should be able to get a free trial somewhere from one of the decent blocking apps, so no better time to use it than now.

4) Don’t pile pressure on yourself: Avoid overspending on gifts (especially if you can’t afford it…) or give yourself far too much to do. Slow down and try not to rush. Keep it simple! I understand that a lots of us won’t get to share this Christmas with the people they love and it’s not everyone’s favourite time of the year. Talk about it. Don’t repress your feelings. Gambling to escape isn’t the answer.

5) Put the phone down and laptop away: Listen, I’m not one to talk but you have to make an effort to take proper time off. Log out of Social Media, don’t check the scores constantly and leave/charge the phone in a different room. Make things a little less convenient. It does help, especially if you have someone around to hold you to account!

Folks, I hope you have a gamble and stress free Christmas. Have a good one and thank you for all of your support.

Darren.