I don’t want to be too flashy with this biography. My story is one of picking myself up after disasters, after all. I can perhaps contrast this with all the phantasmagoria that my mother and siblings have gone in for.
The inner journeys that we make can be harder to describe than what we might choose to describe as being the material aspects of our lives. A biography will most often be about such things as qualifications and work or other relevant experience. But, indeed, my bio does need to be about my conflict with my mother and siblings; it is those experiences that I have had a core need to understand up to levels where I can more easily expect to achieve fulfilment.
One can become overly self-righteous, too. And certainly, my journey has involved me in trying to get those sorts of things right and carefully considered. And, I don’t think one can easily expect to achieve a particularly high standard in these sorts of respects, either. It seems to be the case that we all have limitations in what we can understand of ourselves. For those of us who have religious beliefs, we expect to make efforts but do not overestimate what we can expect to achieve.
I have a couple of qualifications: a B.Sc. in Mathematics, Statistics and Computing obtained from Greenwich University; and, from the same institution, a postgraduate certificate of education for teaching in the secondary school sector. I have worked as a teacher and I have also had experience in politics as a borough councillor.
I most certainly have had encounters with grim experiences. There have been my mother and my siblings and two challenging divorce experiences. And the unfriendly family members have always proselytised that I suffered a major mental illness and have spread rumours of this everywhere I have gone; there is no evidence for this, however; and this all seems to amount to matters of how my mother coped with a marriage that did not work for her. And how she went on to protest that she coped very well even although she had lifestyle issues which she refused to be open about.
In a strange sort of way, I now seem to be cheerful enough. I have written and published my accounts of both the family feuds and how my situation became one of being under deep attack. I have endeavoured to adjust to the traumas that have happened to me. It seems probable that I have turned corners in ways that might be described as being successful.
I am now aged 73 and here is a photo of me.