hephaestion2014's blog

So, at long last, I have got a Saturday off from work - and it coincides with a wrestling meet. What are the chances? It's extremely good luck.

So why are there these butterflies in my stomach? I'm not a group meet virgin. I've been to many before now and enjoyed myself. Always had a great time.

This has been a quiet year for me wrestling wise, but busy in other areas.
You know when sometimes in a match, you've got your opponent pinned to the mat, you're in charge, you're on top and unbeatable ... and then suddenly you've not been watching your arm positioning and you're being flipped over and fighting off the need to tap. No? Just me?

Well, that's kinda what my brain did to me this year. I had my attention so focused on other people and their health, I wasn't watching my own. And the black dog struck.

The funny thing is that not many people noticed at first. I'm good at hiding certain things. I'll happily deflect, obfuscate, joke and try to fake normality till the cows come home. If I'm clowning around and making you smile and laugh, then there's nothing wrong with me, right?

I'm really lucky that I have a fair few people I can reach out to, some who know well enough to call me out when they think I'm hiding when I'm struggling - and people who are just immense company that I can momentarily just enjoy forgetting about myself and live in that moment.

By the way, I'm not saying it's all been doom and gloom. Wearing black and crying at sunsets. That nothing has made me feel happy. I've had some great times with great people. But there has been a lot of dragging myself through the day, feeling so exhausted by every human interaction and consumed by my own thoughts that I've spent most of my free time lying in bed with the curtains drawn napping till it's time to go to bed. Being too tired to go to sleep but too shattered to have the energy to do anything else. Numbness.

If it hadnt been for my job and the routine and necessity of work, I'd never have got out from under the duvet. Sleep is the great retreat from the world. The gym which I've never enjoyed had become an impossible place to trek to, and would have been torture if I had. Even though I know it'd have helped me.

I've suspended my membership, avoided going to meets, dodged challenges, retreated from people and debated a lot about just deleting entirely. At first because i was busy with other people, but then it changed. Again, like the gym, attending meets and membership of this site has helped me a lot in the past. And being more of a part of it would've helped.

"But you don't belong here, you're not really a part of the site. People are just being polite. It's just pity and you were incredibly arrogant to think otherwise. Boring fat twunt. There's no laughing with you, only at you. Go on. Quit. No one will notice. Hephwho? Ego mate. Can't believe you thought otherwise."

Now I'm not compliment seeking or wanting validation. (I don't trust compliments anyway and only hear what isnt being said.) I'm aware that that's not the truth. Well not the full truth. It's just the place where my brain has been at, and struggling to come forwards from. Thats the negative thinking that has encompassed every area of my life.

And that's probably why I'm feeling nervous as a newbie about this upcoming meet. Plus, I look in the mirror and see the toll of all those days in bed and not going to the gym has took. I will correct that. Changing the body isn't necessarily easy, but it's not an insurmountable problem. Stamina and energy need boosting.

Plus I have really missed the regular wrestling. Yeah, I'm doomed to always come second in a match, but fuck it. Fuck it! Wrestling is fun. I've missed this site, and a lot of the people on it. I've some reconnecting and apologising for my absence to do to some.

There's a double edge to this blog. I've got my thoughts out. Kinda explained myself. Mainly to myself. I'm aware it shows my weakness and maybe some people may be put off or avoid me because I'm weak, or worried I might break down, burst into tears and start quoting Sylvia Plath.

I don't do public displays of emotion anyway. So you're safe there. I never shatter in front of an audience ;)

Also, i kinda wanted to get it all out in one go, so I don't have to keep talking about it. Explaining myself. It's out there. That's where I was at - and done. Off I move onto happier things. No need to worry, I'm genuinely fine now.

I'm feeling more robust.
Thanks to everyone on here who helped me and may not even know it.
That "Hey" helped.

And after I kick arse on the mat and the ring, I'll feel even better.

Next blog will be about victories not defeats.

Not going into politics or anything like that but Manchester for me is the wrestling capital of the country. If I get on a train on the way to Manchester, I know I'm getting a match.

It's sort of like another home to me.

In the aftermath of an attack on it, with all that darkness and despairing of humanity - there's stories of kindness, compassion and empathy.

A hero isn't a guy who puts on Speedos and gets in the ring and destroys everyone. Not all heroes wear capes.

It's those in uniforms running towards a building that others run from, coming in on their day off to help. It's strangers offering others beds, chargers and of course, a cuppa.
It's taxi drivers and businesses offering services and help free of charge.

Manchester won't be beaten.

It may be knocked down temporarily, but like it's wrestlers, it won't lay down long.

It's up before you know it.

Manchester is strong.

I stand with Manchester as I remember all those who have lost their lives.

So I've been a bit AWOL/MIA of late. See my last blog. Needed some time away.

But am back now. A good friend invited me down to come and wrestle. Bit nervous at first but everything seemed settled at home, and he understood that if the phone went, I'd have to be on a train leaving for home as soon as possible. That didn't happen, and the occasional sneaky looks at my phone meant I could relax.

And relax I did. Well as much as you can in a headlock fighting against your limbs being bent at weird angles :)

I won't go into the match. Suffice to say, I'm not getting any better but I'm also not getting worse - and that to me is the important part.

I missed wrestling.

Now, I'm not pretending I'm one of those people who live and breathe wrestling. Who train day in and out, can do push up on their knuckles and bridge on the top of their head. My game is very amateur. It's a hobby.

But like most hobby, I enjoy the happiness it brings. The feeling of turning off your mind to everyday problems - Work, Corbyn, Existential angst - and just being in your body and not your mind. Being present in an actual moment. Connecting with a more aggressive side of yourself that civilisation encourages you to swallow.

I really recommend to anyone on this site who likes watching wrestling videos etc but hasn't given it a go to try and do it. It is nerve racking that first time, but if you're worried about safety and the like - try the more public meets at the UK wrestling spaces in high barnet, Walthamstow or even go to the wilds of civilisation and dare to brave the flatcaps and ferrets of the north and Manchester ; )

After wrestling, I ache, bruise and am sore. Mainly cos I'm unfit, stubborn and don't pace myself - but more importantly afterwards for a few seconds, minutes even longer - I get a peaceful easy feeling.

For a moment or two, the world is different. I'm different. I'm Hephaestion the wrestler not Hephaestion the no-one drudge.

Its nice. And as recent events have reminded me, you meet great people along the way. Always more good than bad..

Plus it's handy when a customer tries to start a fight with you, you're a bit more able to defend yourself :) The stance and even trying to emulate a couple of opponents deathstares can sometimes dissuade - but if not, I can even dodge punches now lol

So yeah, ignore the gripes and groans - wrestling is great. Go do it now, if you haven't already.

Be safe, have fun and bring it on.

I'm writing this as more to get how I feel out. It's probably a bit raw and a bit contradictory - and let's face it - self indulgent. But it's not the kind of things I can write or say to my friends or facebook.

So early hours of the morning, I'm watching the blue lights of the ambulance go into the distance. It's taking my dad away. He appears now to be stable but at the time ... we've been down this road with his health before and here we are again. I'm so worried, concerned and upset. But there's a different emotion there this time: guilt.

My greatest fear whenever I'm wrestling isn't that my body will turned up dumped in a wood somewhere. That used to be a legitimate fear. Now it's the missed calls, the voicemails and the texts that I've not seen because I've been too busy wrestling to notice them. I was at a great group meet on Sunday, but found myself having to go and check my phone to make sure I hadn't missed any messages. I hadn't - but I have missed things. I kinda feel instead of spending that Sunday away, I should've been home. I should've really. Maybe.

It's what made me decide to cut down on my wrestling. I am missing things. I'm worried if something happens I'm miles away - at least on average about a two hour train ride. Crippling guilt.

If I lived in London or Manchester - not so bad. Grab a match after work, and home like it's a school night. But I'm not doing that. I'm all over the place, having to overnight and the like. I dunno - at this precise moment that feels selfish of me. I dunno.

I know a fair few others on here have the responsibility towards others - be it elderly parents, ill partners, kids, and family. I have heard them say things about the juggle and the balance. The guilt too. I understand that now.

As I'm writing this, I'll be making my mum a cup of tea and try to persuade her to shut her eyes for a moment or two. She's been up longer than me. My turn to take the strain. She was doing that Sunday whilst I was out wrestling.

So that's my blog. It's not upbeat, funny or witty. They never are ;)

But its how I feel at the moment. I'm not sure I'm a good person. At this time I'm on a wrestling site blogging and sending reflexive trash talk messages in between.

There's a part of me that thinks I shouldn't cut down or cutback but cut out wrestling completely. But that's just how I'm feeling now and I have responsibilities to my opponents too. So I'm sticking around but I'm going to be quieter. Adjusting.

I'm not sure what road those blue lights were lighting up for me, my dad and mum just yet, and not sure where it is taking me.

Thanks for reading. I'll no doubt delete when I realise how non wrestling this is. Just had to vent.

Hope that my personal and specific events has some universal resonance.

Now, I was thinking of hanging up my Speedos for good a little while ago. Nothing to do with this site or the people on it - I'd have still stayed as have lots of good mates on here that I like chatting too as much as trying to make them tap.I'd have been less active. It felt like the thrill had gone. I hadn't worked it out of my system but after the matches and on the train home I was being to feel less happy.

Why's that? I hear no-one cry, Did you not enjoy yourself?

Well yes, I did. I had a great time but after a period of time on the site, and after the amount of opponents I have had, I began to think people might expect more from me. I'm not a newbie after all.

"So how many matches you won then? I beat so-and-so, they were easy, did you get them to tap?"

I've began to notice that competitiveness was being to creep into people's conversation with me. As if this site was a league, and people were trying to put me into it. Was I top of the league? Was I a Stoke - middle of the table just milling about? Was I a Sunderland - no-one sure what I was doing here in the top leagues? Or was I a Leicester - champion once but sliding down into oblivion?

I was beginning to feel a pressure that yes, I should be winning. I should be doing better. Not improving, but just better. Suddenly something that was me turning up and doing my best and having fun doing it was becoming something else.

I was back to being the school kid again dreading sports because as my then undiagnosed dyspraxia would mean I'd just be a disappointment. On the train back from wrestling matches, I could hear the patronising tones of my PE teacher saying, " well at least you tried and didn't trip over, so that's a success"

School days huh? They mess you up.

To mask the fact that I'm not brilliant and, unless I repeat a move a lot I forget it, not the biggest move repertoire I began to adopt the jobber role. Don't get me wrong, I love being in the position where I'm fighting to get control back, where my aggressive side can be released because I'm defending myself rather than going after someone. I.like reflecting my opponent's energy.

But I was finding the Jobber title wasn't a full fit for me.

"Yeah, but he's just a jobber right? He'll just lie there, that's no fun."

So there's all the pressure to fit into boxes and labels that didn't fit. I didn't want to be thought of as fun and friendly and the dreaded nice.
I wanted to be thought of as rough, tough, scary and a beast. I don't have the looks, the body or the skill to get people onto the mats with me, so let's try and tweak myself into something else. Let the pressure of what they want from you make you into a diamond.

Pressure doesn't do that to me. Recently met a guy I have always wanted to wrestle. Man, I wanted to impress him. I sucked. I choked. I forgot how to do a headlock and went back to the early days when I used to wrestle with my eyes shut so I could think ... but moving on.

I was trying to be someone I wasn't. Well not in whole. There's a heel to me, there's a jobber to me, there's a Hulk-smash inside me, there's a thug and there's a wrestling dummy too. I'm all those in one, but there's a pressure to cut off parts of me. To adapt to so much to what my opponent wanted, I was forgetting me too.

I was talking to one opponent after a match asking him if he had fun.
He stopped and said yes he did ... but did I?

We had a good chat and I explained how I felt about all the "nice" and no-one wants to fight the nice guy. He put me right, pointed out that at heart I'm doing this for fun. I'm not naturally competitive but I offer competition. I'm a challenge and genuinely fun to wrestle.

By adapting to others expectations I was putting a pressure on myself that I couldn't really thrive under.

I'm friendly, I'm tough, I'm nice, I'm gobby, I'm occasionally an arse, I'm playful, I'm serious, I'm a bookworm, I hold back too much sometimes, Im a geek, im shy, I often forget about protecting an arm, I'm a jobber, I'm a heel, I contain multitudes

But I'm all me.

I will adapt but I'm doing this for fun (fun doesn't have to mean erotic) I will learn as I go, I will make mistakes but I'll never give a damn about win/loss, or the amount of opponents but more about how many guys want that rematch and round two or three.

Forget that pressure pushing down on me

[Bridge: Freddie Mercury]
Um ba ba be
Um ba ba be
De day da
Ee day da -
I'm okay :)