When I met Robbie Williams

The story began when Robbie Williams left a comment under my own comment under one of his songs on Youtube. If you forgot to listen to the guy recently, I strongly recommend to correct this grave mistake and listen to him right now. His voice is amazing: soothing and calming – it helps me to deal with Covid.

So, I commented under one of his songs, and he commented back, which was frankly amazing. Really unbelievable, especially that he wished me the best for this coming New Year and ended up saying that he loves me. I answered that I love him back, which is absolute truth, as I love Robbie Williams with all my heart. I discovered him during my first ‘psychosis’ in a psychiatric hospital in Amsterdam – he was singing then to me via the TV, and I remember telling myself: ‘Thanks God, there is this kind of music’. It helped me, honestly, to deal with subsequent psychoses and especially with the psychiatry, as his words from ‘Feel’ when he sings ‘my head speaks a language I don’t understand’ is precisely what I often reply to the stupid questions of the psychiatrists. Yes, I hear voices, and it’s a voice of God.

We exchanged then messages, he started to write to me via my Facebook profile. I would think it was a scam, if he offered me money. But thanks god, he didn’t, but he offered me friendship – exactly what I need. Who wouldn’t want to become a friend with Robbie Williams??? Show me this person!

His language capacities are amazing, he can write well. Of course, it’s Robbie Williams, and I replied to him also in my best English, and added that I also speak Russian, French, and Dutch, all fluently. The conversation continued until he ended up offering me a job as his interpreter, when he needs one, and I replied that it was really needed, because he, quite obviously, thinks that all Russians are boring and that we party like an oligarch, but I hasted to reassure him that I am definitely NOT boring, just slightly insane and that I hate the oligarchs and what they stand for, and I do know how to party. My best gay friend back in Moscow will show you how to party – I wrote to Robbie Williams and he replied with a big ‘LOL’ back.

The story progressed towards the contract. I needed to sign some papers of disclosure which I reassured him I would do, provided I could occasionally write also about Robbie Williams as a writer, because his own personal writer is definitely boring, and I can do it much better.

I didn’t ask about the payment because I am ready to work for Robbie for free, just give me his friendship, and thank you very much, I do have already an excellent job at a university where I am paid good money for good work. Still, I asked for 100 pounds an hour, because I value my time and if I am an interpreter, then it’s a job too, since I have a diploma as an interpreter, and also two masters degrees and a PhD. My French is at a native level and so is my English. I speak with a nice accent, because I like them, the accents, and I love languages in general, and in English language I hear Robbie Williams, the color orange and if I can assign an animal to this language, – it will be a cat. Previously, I thought it was a Monkey.

So, he offered me a job but then the most disturbing thing happened. My psychiatrist called me delusional when I said that I had gotten a job offer from Robbie Williams. There was a suspicion of the beginning of another psychosis (my divine state of mind) and suggestion of an increase of my dose of medication.

‘’No,’’ I said! ‘’Here is the proof!’’ And I would show to my doctor the exchange of messages and our jokes, and the psychiatrist laughed and told me it was all a hoax, but I laughed back into his face.

So, you might wonder how the story progressed? I don’t know yet, but I think I will leave another comment under his song and wait for another reply.

And so, it goes.

On being Mental: NHS and Game of Thrones

Dear Camarades, colleagues, friends, and readers of this blog. This is a first part of a story of two to come on my Porcupine’s wisdom teachings.
Let’s start with part 1.
When I was telling you about the fact that you shouldn’t despair in case you end up in a mad house during the festive period, I didn’t realise that I was kind of fortune-telling and predicted my own landing in a mental institution for Christmas and New Year in one go. And therefore, when I was planning to write and give advice on how to spend quality time in its full glory if sectioned under mental health act  (part two will be about some practical ideas about how to survive the ordeal), I ended up following my own recommendations. 

But let me tell you more as to how I ‘volunteered’ myself into the section 3 of the mental health act (I did go to the hospital to seek help all by myself, driven by ambulance I summoned also all by myself).
I blame it on the weather. Winter has definitely come this year, and I couldn’t even leave my street for two days. It was literally frozen. If Sheffield is indeed in South Yorkshire, then York should be in Mexico.
 
 
And so, it was cold, very cold, especially that I couldn’t find time to fix my boiler, and was stressed to hell due to some other major worries.
I reckoned, on a subconscious level, that it would be just warmer in the hospital.
And I was right, not that it was done on purpose (me going to the mad house simply to warm up, well, actually, I did need a rehab in heating). Because I was freezing and shivering from cold so much at my own house, that I even started to come up with my own ideas for the Game of Thrones, season 8. You see, I am a Dragon myself (according to the Chinese wisdom), and I think that that Dragon who fell into the ice water, was resurrected by the army of dead people on purpose.
 
You see, while most spectators of the show (a guess), called ‘Game of Thrones’ are probably rather interested in royal intrigues and fights (and sex scenes of course, but unfortunately, they cut it down), my attention was glued to that mysterious leader of the army of the dead, with hypnotising blue eyes. He manages to lead his army of the dead with a remarkable zeal (Russian army?).
Who is this man, I was asking each time they would show the character, and he deserves more insight and attention in the show. I mean, the man with blue eyes is simply amazing.
 
And so, while I was thinking about the show, I kind of froze to death myself that winter (it was in 2017) and had an idea that the plan of the guy with the blue eyes, who leads the army of the dead, is to simply get himself and his army a warmer place to live. You see, a dragon can always survive, and if he hypnotised the dragon, there is a purpose in it, and a profound one. He wants his army to have food, shelter, medication and wellness retreat. For how long, are they supposed to live in the bloody Siberia?
 
But I will stop to elaborate on the possible story line for the Game of Thrones and will progress to some tips about survival in a mental institution:
1. Make friends with fellow patients, you will help each other, and stay friends after the hospital.
2. Pamper yourself.  Start exchanging clothes with patients, do each other nails and make-up, take baths and listen to the music. Do take part in their occupational therapy activities.
3. And final tip till my next post (part 2, apparently it didn’t happen, I forgot to write it). Try always to see the positive and as hard as it can be, persevere with some humour. I, for instance, was so tired of waiting for Jesus that decided to declare my own return (like finally) and feel fine. This time, I am female and I have brothers and sisters. And this was the real reason they decided to section me. My psychiatrist didn’t laugh when I said I am Jesus. 
I wasn’t.