My brother’s funeral was set for July 7th 2005 at 2pm, as if the day wasn’t hard enough it also became the darkest day in British History except for the World Wars and the day still stays with me to the present. The day before Britain had been awarded the 2012 Olympics, a great day of celebration and something to look forward to in 7 years but my mind was elsewhere, I went to the pub and met up with the lads for a few beers and to take my mind away from the funeral day, drinks were flowing and we were having a good time suddenly we ended on shots, one of the lads was lethal for doing this, I called it a day after this and got home about 10pm. I needed an early night because it was early start the following day and a long journey up to Potters Bar. I couldn’t sleep, my head was all over the place ut I must have dropped off about 3am, I had set my alarm for 630am, get the bus to Heathrow then the tube to Cockfosters before another bus to Potters Bar. I missed my alarm I slept in so woke up about 7am instead, I rushed about I knew it would take a few hours to get to my brother’s house. I arrived at Heathrow about 8am, I walked to the underground station and caught a train about 825am, okay I was running late but had plenty of time to get to Potters Bar not knowing what the rest of the day was about to unfold even more so in the next 30 minutes. Everything seemed normal, the train was filling up it was rush hour. We arrived at Hounslow Central and the train didn’t move for a while what seemed ages, the driver announced the train was being held for a while due to a power surge in Central London affecting the network, working on the tube I thought this wasn’t a normal announcement then my mate text me to say a bomb had exploded at Aldgate Station, I was in shock this wasn’t right surely but he text again to say two more bombs had gone off at Edgware Road and Russell Square, now if I had left home as planned then I would have been on the train at Russell Square, I still believe to this day somebody was looking out for me that day. About 930 the train was evacuated and it was a case of try and work out how I was going to get to Potters Bar now, everything was against me. After about 90 minutes I arrived at Hammersmith by bus but couldn’t get any further at that time, everything was shut down, tube, bus network, rail network as a safety reason just in case more explosives were out there, I then heard about a bus that had been blown up in Tavistock Square too, it was everybody’s worst nightmare. I actually stood outside Hammersmith Underground station alongside my colleagues helping people, I was in shock still so it did become a blur. One of my colleagues then told me to go and try to get to my brother’s funeral (it didn’t happen), everything was going nowhere. My phone went from full battery to none in 25 minutes everybody texting me to make sure I was okay and safe, my dad was driving down from Barnsley and saw the signs on the M1, avoid London, he thought he was going to two funerals that day but I did get a text to him to tell I was safe. I went to a pub near the station, I knew I couldn’t get to Potters Bar, maybe later in the day if things opened up, I had a few beers watching in dismay at the events unfolding on the television, today I should have been laying my brother to rest but it had become a nightmare, in 24 hours from a day of celebration to the darkest day since I was born anyway. I noticed people outside Kings Cross station on the telly that I recognised, some of the guys I went to football with. About 2pm when I should have been in church I finally got a bus to Trafalgar Square but that was as far as I could get, I had missed the funeral, my head was a mess, this was probably the defining moment that part sent me downhill fast with at the time no sign of coming out of it, alcohol became my friend on my rest days, I lost interest in lots of things, all I wanted was my own space nothing else. I got back to Hayes about 7pm, I walked into the pub and my mates were in there, all people were talking about was the events of the day. I just broke down in tears, everything that happened that day hit me like a ton of bricks, a traumatic day that I would never get over. I lost count of how many drinks I had but it numbed everything, I somehow got home about midnight, it had been a long day, would I sleep I don’t know but what I did know is I had to go to Potters Bar once the tube reopened which was planned for the following day. My dad rang me about 0040 to make sure I had got back home and was okay (I wasn’t), I had a major meltdown on the phone, he had been panicking but my phone battery had gone and he couldn’t get through to me.
Life after this didn’t get easier, everyday was a battle with everything, my mental health was affected (it wasn’t talked about a lot in the early 2000’s compared to now), I did get back to Potters Bar the day after the funeral but it felt like I was being pushed away as quick as possible by his wife, I saw his ashes on the mantelpiece in the house but that was about it, she made excuses for me to go apparently she had things to do. To this day I have flashbacks and run through every bit of that awful day, what I will say is that unless you were caught up in that day it’s hard to explain what it was like, on the outside I looked okay I carried on a what people saw as a normal life but on the inside I was torn apart, it took me a few years to really learn how to deal with it ( more about that in the next chapter The Midland Years)
I went back to work on the 18th July , I had the usual interviews to make sure I was okay to return to work, life had to go on I had to go back at tsome point so now was right. My first shift was in Barons Court Ticket Office and the first person I served was renewing his ticket, it had run out on the 7th July and this was the first time he had travelled since, like most people in London they were nervous, we had a conversation, I didn’t know him, he didn’t know me but that day it felt like we had known each other for years.
Several years later I think about 2015 when I had started my love affair with tattoos, I had a tribute done to the 52 innocent victims of 7/7 and my brother, the pocket watch is 7 minutes past 7 to recognise the date and in the centre is 2005.
Late 2005 I met somebody, was things getting better who knows more on that in the next chapter again, she lived in the West Midlands, we hit it off straight away she had kids back in the Midlands which at the time was okay, it was all part of the relationship if it was to go anywhere. Everything was good when I was up there on short weekend visits and even better when she came to stay at mine, I did feel awkward because I lived in a shared house. It only changed when in 2006 I gave everything up in London and moved to the Midlands, again just like when I left Barnsley 6 years previous I gave everything up, a well paid job in London to again move to nothing, no job only a new life in a strange place I didn’t really know a lot about, at the time it was like step backwards, to get through life I started doing agency work working warehouses, superstores day and night shifts just to get some money together.
Anyway that’s all about my life in London, all the ups and loads of downs now its time to focus on my life in the West Midlands in the next set of blogs.
Life without Alcohol - My Journey from the Beginning 