Sometimes when you look at your to do list and waiting to be finished projects, I forget how much I have actually completed and published.

MKW books by K L Wicks
Sometimes when you look at your to do list and waiting to be finished projects, I forget how much I have actually completed and published.

MKW books by K L Wicks

Excerpt from WIP looking at #Aphantasia #Hyperphantasia
Another question that I felt I should approach, was to ask if he had a sense of self. He didn’t know what I meant and I explained the term. This is something that has taken much of my thought. How the world views me, how I view myself and the world, all the things I feel this encompasses and can affect about a person. Being able to do this has helped me with each identity crisis I have gone through (and possibly caused some of them), helped me make friends, improve my career and assisted me generally in life.
So if someone were to not have a sense of self, I felt this would lead to feelings of a complete lack of identity. But without the concept of self and therefore identity, it seemed there was nothing to lack. It is only when I explained how much the sense of self affects ego and people’s motive and actions, he began to understand. And I was wrong, there isn’t a lack of identity at all, in fact, there is a person who knows what they want and who they are without the need to question it. I envied this slightly.

(c) K Wicks photography
I had been panicking about my career from a very young age. I had a list of jobs I wanted by the age of ten, most of them unattainable, but it didn’t stop me dreaming of working – not sure if other children do such a thing. I do think this was partly influenced by family, my mother didn’t have a very good job although worked a lot and my real father was a drop out, so my grandparents really drummed it into me about succeeding. It was all about prospects, what you bring to the table, what you can offer and what you can achieve. I do sometimes have a rather antiquated attitude and understanding for someone my age, but I took it all in. Everything they taught me from a bygone age and attitude. I’m grateful for it though as it has given me a unique perspective on things.
In all my planning of my future of being a grown up, I had conveniently overlooked one thing, becoming a grown up. It was tough and after a series of upheavals and difficulties, my plan was derailed. I had to drop out of school, I was struggling massively to re-adjust to yet another school and couldn’t find myself. I was given a state appointed tutor for my compulsory education for three hours a week at home, which I must say, was minimal. I already knew what I needed to though, so it was adequate for it’s purpose. I was one of many, I didn’t expect the education board to notice me or care, why should they? I ended my education with nothing to show for it, and the psychological repercussions of that is what initially destroyed me, then probably what drove me on. I had already failed, so what could be worse?
What followed was nearly a decade of trying to make up for it, while also still trying to navigate life which often got in the way. I had focus and a belief in myself though that didn’t require anyone else’s input. I stopped getting praise in my adult life, I had no parents after eighteen and went off the rails in the view of my grandparents, so was left to my own devices for a couple of years and had to be able to be proud of myself. I wasn’t quite measuring up to the family standard, which had already slipped one generation before me. I had the gift of the gab back then though and worked round my lack of formal education, often doing jobs better than people with qualifications. I realised then that the system was a bit of a con, that I hadn’t needed to go to college and university to do well at all. As I got older I knew plenty of people who went, and had nothing to show for it apart from a large debt and an inflated sense of employability. Something I only learnt from experience, how could I have known that then.
One of my jobs that I think taught me the most, was working in a recruitment agency. I had worked for them before as a temp, doing cleaning work, catering assistant and factory work, but this time I was behind the counter. I liked that job very much, but not because of what it was or who it was for. What I started to see were people, with very different situations in need of work, although not all of them were willing to. I happened to be there at a time when the EU opened it’s doors to more countries and we had an influx of foreign workers, mostly Polish who came to our town. Years later I have heard people moan about how they ‘came and stole our jobs’ but the reality was different from where I sat. They took the jobs no-one else wanted to do.
Most of these Polish had very limited English skills but a work ethic that outshone the locals when it came to manual work and labour. We struggled to fill the jobs for bin men and cleaners, for factory workers and fruit pickers. Our college leavers and graduates felt that work was beneath them, and they weren’t afraid to say it.
“I’ve got a degree! I won’t work for £8.00ph!”
I nearly laughed my head off when someone said that to me. Maybe because I was working my way up or maybe because I understood about hard times and appreciating opportunities. Either way, that attitude was not unique, and not restricted to graduates. I always thought a job was a job and if you need to pay the bills, I was proud to be able to pay my way. Have standards by all means, just make them realistic. Soon though those Polish workers became locals themselves and I moved on. I didn’t want my career to be based on people being reliable (because they aren’t), recruitment was not for me. It did however, show me how much people were willing to pay for finance work and I started to realise that is what all businesses have in common, so used my initiative. I booked myself on an evening course at the local college for computerized accounting and made myself look better on paper. It’s all very well being good at talking, but you must be able to get to the talky bit.
It was also just good timing that I handed in my notice with no job to go to, with just a good feeling to go on. Finding a new position as an accounts manager within a couple of weeks and getting on the finance ladder. Very soon though it became clear to me that my standards exceeded those of who I worked for, so self-employment seemed the only route. I was driven, obsessive, love paperwork, am meticulous and can work to my own deadlines – it really was a no brainer. I kept studying for the first five years, doing home learning and exams while growing the business and keeping house.
Working for me is important, it keeps my brain active and focused. Knowing you are part of the bigger picture and participating, paying your way and getting by. But that’s what we are taught to believe isn’t it? That we should be finding our place in society and fitting in. Work, work, work till you are almost dead, then have time off. I really have taken that to heart unfortunately and in the last few years have had to find a bit of balance. With a bit of time and perspective you can often think differently. I understand they need us to work, if we don’t they can’t take your tax, apparently nothing will get done and we will all lose our minds to boredom. The system is not broken, it is how it is meant to be. Capitalism at its finest…

(c) K Wicks Photographer
Another excerpt from my upcoming WIP.
Society alone can give you anxiety, a stressful home life or working environment can trigger these emotions and feelings too. If on the way through your life though, what if you didn’t get the necessary experience to understand how to cope or know what was going on.
What if you didn’t ever develop coping mechanisms or recognise what might be a weakness in yourself or potential strength? Then how can you hope to make it easier for yourself and work through it? This is the type of question I ask myself, then go to work trying to unravel what it really means. I also know you don’t have to have had a dysfunctional life to feel anxiety, it can happen to anyone, but it definitely makes the path a bit harder…

(c) K Wicks photographer
These are two cases of self inflicted injuries in my childhood, quite unnecessary really, both of them. Some lessons are painful, and these are two of those. Sometimes I just had to prove something to myself, even if it was just what other people had told me.
I think I was about 7 and I had a bike. I loved it and would blat to the shops or down to my friends house, no problems. This one day, while biking to what we called ‘the 10 0’clock shop’ – probably no mystery as to why. Running parallel the very straight road, was another road with a row of houses, but was steeply dipped, coming up at the shop. So I decided to take the dipped road, with the intention of peddling as fast as I could down, so that it was a hard slog up, but you got some momentum behind you. Sounded like a solid plan, and it was.
Until for what would appear to be no reason at all, I started to wonder if what I had been told was true. Does your front wheel buckle if you let go while going fast? Now, you may think this thought might have just been dismissed and I continued on my speedy way. No. I wanted to know. Had to know. So, I did let go. And true to the information I had been given, my front wheel did buckle. I had not given thought to what really would happen next. What did happen next was a lot of pain, a fair amount of blood, some smashed in front teeth with one now missing, and a random lady coming out of one of the houses to help patch me up. I felt stupid, I’m not going to lie. And wasn’t really sure what it was that had made me do it, I had put logic to one side and just went for it. It scared me a bit, when I started to understand what I was capable to doing to myself. We are very breakable, and I guess as children it can be a hard time learning that.
Around the same time in my life, we had dogs, three of them. One of them in particular had an issue with things coming through the letterbox. Anything that came through was, for want of a better word, savaged. So, again, in my ridiculous childhood thought process, wondered. Could it be possible, that if I put my hand through the letterbox, will it get treated with the same contempt. You guessed it, i had to know. And the answer is yes, but only temporarily. In the dogs defense, as soon as he realised it was my hand, he let go, unfortunately his tooth had punctured one of my fingers, there was screaming, and lots of blood. A few stitches in my index finger and I was fine, but started to see a pattern forming. I didn’t trust what I was told and felt the need to prove these things, even at great cost to myself. It was here I think I first started to understand about instinct and how you are just going to have work out some things for yourself. Where others may be giving you really sound advice, take heed. That does not mean take the advice, but keep it in mind.

(c) K Wicks
This has been a familiar term to me for years. Not too long ago we saw the shift from going to the high street to do your shopping, to driving out to industrial estates with huge Supermarkets selling everything under one roof. The convenience can’t be denied.
But I am one for saving what should be saved, so I have been looking at what it is that I no longer enjoy about the high street. Previously I used to enjoy being able to walk to town, go to the post office, maybe a charity shop or two, pick up some stationary and maybe pay in a cheque. Just a small list of jobs could involve a minimum of four premises, with a possible stop in a book shop or other clothing shop. But as times have changed this is no longer an option.
Most post office have now closed in smaller villages and in towns have been assimilated into convenience stores, often the staff looking confused at the most simple request. Most clients now pay online, so the need to ‘pop’ to the bank just isn’t there. And none of us could have escaped Amazon, anything you can want, within a day. Saving you travel time, parking fees and shopping time. That’s got to be a win. In comparison, the delivery fees are cheaper than your time. This is a slightly separate but related issue – the infrastructure of this country. It takes an awfully long time to get anywhere by way of a motor vehicle. Not just due to congestion and idiotic road works (where you have a massive piece of road sectioned off for a tiny piece on the pavement, and no one working on it!), but we don’t seem to have a logical system of traffic lights either. No-one looks at the overall flow of traffic, because surely if people can get where they are going, we can all get on and either spend money or make money. After all, that’s what it’s all about apparently. If people can get to work, the economy grows, this is why I am starting to think its meant to be this way, because some things are so easy to improve.
So it takes an age to drive to your high street if you can’t walk, and you will have to pay for parking if you can find any. We very rarely encounter a free car park here (that’s also where the large shopping estates won, they had free massive car parks). Lots of shopping centers within towns have many empty shops and what you do have doesn’t seem to be anything people want.
But, aside from the problems of cost, need and availability for shops there is another issue. We come to quality and customer service. Both of which I now think are long gone. I have worked in retail, as well as hospitality and commercial offices before going into finance, so I do understand what it takes to do these jobs. Most of my recent disappointing experiences in establishments have been down to the people or the product they are selling. It could well be that I have indeed managed to move somewhere that is feeling more and more like a cross between Hot Fuzz and The League of Gentlemen. I do not expect to be looked up and down when booking an appointment, I do not expect to be told ‘no we don’t sell hydrangeas’ when they are literally right behind me it turns out. And I don’t expect to wait for over five minutes before no-one appears, or served moldy food in the shop down the way. This is only within a few months, but it gives me an idea of what is going wrong. I can now say I won’t be putting my money into my local shops and I would say this is the suicide of the high street, not just the death of. I guess the old saying springs to the mind in these instances “If your face doesn’t fit…” But money is money in my book, and manners and etiquette come for free, so no excuse. There are so many things bothering me about this country at the moment, I feel this may not be the last rant!

(c) K Wicks
I think it all started with the first real decision that was put upon me.
‘Who do you want to live with? Your mum, or your dad?’
I remember the room, I remember the solicitor and her name. I remember the feeling, the emotion, and confusion and ultimately the decision that I felt was so heavy on my shoulders. I didn’t understand why they were asking me, I was nobody, the youngest. I was 7. I looked at my older siblings and understood they would say mum, so I took the unspoken implied lead and said what I thought I should say. It was power I didn’t want. I almost feel as though I stepped out of my body to make this decision and once I was out, I could see myself as a person. Sudden self-awareness all at once while under pressure, it was overwhelming and enlightening to say the least.
And from that I believe, my ability to make decisions was affected, either for good or bad I’m not entirely sure. But I have spent much time in my life mulling over the fallout from that, how many lives were changed forever just from that one question and answer that followed. My self-awareness became like a friend and a dark shadow to me after that. I was a child trying to learn how to function in a society I was already part of, but felt more apart from than they could ever know. Trying to work out other people’s intentions, while constantly questioning your own makes it hard to join in and just be yourself. I didn’t know who ‘myself’ was. And I didn’t join in. I was invited to very few birthday parties in my childhood and although I lived in a socially busy house, my home was not really open to friends from school unless they had been ‘vetted’ by my mum. This was awkward in itself and I found it easier to just not invite people home or go to their house instead. They usually had quite normal parents and it was nice sometimes to pretend to be a normal happy go lucky child, I could pull it off for a few hours at a time.
I was troubled though, I won’t lie. My awareness may have increased, but my understanding did not. And this started to lead me into all sorts of trouble and behaviours. I struggled to adapt to life, like many I’m sure. But sometimes I wonder if I ever really got over the sudden change and sense of responsibility, could it be that someone can spend their whole life being in shock?…

(c) K Wicks
Another excerpt from my work in progress…
Before we knew of Aphanstasia we decided to move to Spain. It was a leap of faith, we hadn’t been married long and tried to think of the best way to use our resources to have a good life. We discussed everything and we moved. It was hard and there was a lot to organise and sort out, but because he functioned great in the moment, it seemed a breeze really.
Only a small hiccup of a drunk taxi driver at the last hurdle trying to get to the airport to leave. But another one saved the day and we got there. The drama that unfolded when we were there though couldn’t have been anticipated and was caused mainly by a long list of shoddy agents and bad neighbours. We didn’t really have a chance to settle down and find our feet to plan anything. Instead going from one idea to another and having to change it every other week because of what we had found out, or how we had been treated. It was extremely frustrating. And it was in these frustrating times that we stumbled across this major difference in our thought process. He wasn’t planning ahead at all, he had no concept of our future in Spain and never had. That kind of explained why he always seemed to have objections to things, he speaks his mind at the time, there’s no saving it for later. It can make him seem quite outspoken, but it really isn’t on purpose I now know.
I have to be honest though, when I realised I was on my own with planning our future, it sealed the deal for me. I was already struggling and had thought I wanted to come home, I just didn’t want to ruin it for him. But deep down I must have known we weren’t going to be staying in Spain. I was grossly under prepared going there anyway (I can’t even speak the language), and knew this was the right thing to do.
I couldn’t do it for us both not on home soil. I had spent over thirty years working out how to function in this society, it sounds awful to say, but I actually felt too old to go through it all again. I needed the support of familiarity – not people, or friends as they are thin on the ground, but where I recognised. I realised that was my reference point, my safety zone. I felt like a duck out of water and wanted to correct it as soon as possible. I don’t often live with my mistakes once I have acknowledged them.

(c) K Wicks (Photography taken in Spain)
My self inflicted ridiculous injuries seemed to get less after I grew up, but the end of them was marked with a big one.
I was 22, and had been working the Friday all day and was a couple of hours into another double shift on the Saturday as a bar manager. It was around lunchtime and the overall pub manager decided to put in an appearance, with an attitude of someone who was up very late and hadn’t really been to bed yet. I was not in the mood and decided today was the day to tell him to ‘do it himself then’ and storm out, which I did.
Then proceeding to go to the park instead with my friends on that hot sunny day and have a few drinks. Naturally staying in the park seemed boring so it was decided to go to the woods to check out a potential party site that we had heard about. My friends were a bit of a party lot. Cue a drive up into the woods and a small trek to a patch with a big dip and a rope swing. Yes, the rope swing. Can you guess what happened next?
Well, in my vaguely drunken and annoyed state, I had deduced that it would be a good idea to have a go on the rope swing. Got myself into position and swung out, but knew the moment I did, something was off. Nothing was wrong with the branch or the rope, but it was me. In my head for a split second I had been 12 again, full of it and bold. But in my stupor had misjudged it, the weight ratio was off and I knew I couldn’t swing round the tree and back onto my feet. No, I was going to swing out and straight back into the tree itself.
But there really was nothing I could do by that point except be correct. It happened as I saw it, I swung into the tree, hitting my ankle as I did and then back out into the middle of the area, still holding onto the rope and stick for a seat. The drop was about 10 feet, so I didn’t want to knowing I would land on my ankle. I didn’t have a choice, I dropped to the floor. The pain was immense and I started to try and stand before I realised it was really bad. The male friends I was with said I would be fine and disappeared over the way to check out the site, leaving one with me to try and help me walk. Minutes later they returned and leaned over the edge saying,
“Oh shit, is she still crying, we better get her out of there”…
Luckily they came through when they knew I was really hurt, carrying me back to the car and getting me to the hospital. Where I got given a tubigrip and a pair of crutches and told to go to the general hospital over 10 miles away – cue another favour from a friend. I happened to chose a bank holiday weekend for my injury so it was packed and faced with a minimum four hour wait and in lots of pain, I went home to return the next day.
So finally two days later what turns out to be a broken ankle is fixed, my leg is in cast and I am signed off work. I learnt my lesson there to not drink when annoyed, don’t think you are young when you are not, and don’t let people get to you. Easier said than done sometimes!…

(c) K Wicks