Every day the laughter dies.

If you gave me a choice between attending a music concert in a state-of-the-art venue with tickets to a private box including free food & drink or going to a grubby comedy club next door where there's holes in the seats and you are overcharged for whichever one of the two types of alcohol on offer you choose, then there is no choice. The comedy club would win every time.

The comedians may be crap and the clientele a bit smelly but you will at least get one thing at some stage during the night that will make you think. I don't get that from music, never have. The only thing that music has ever made me think is "how does this cunt keep getting away with it?" when I remember Bono exists.

But I can't laugh any more. I could listen to one of the few comedic geniuses we have left and while I might crack a smile or even snigger it will be gone within seconds. Laughter means happiness and depression doesn't do happiness. Before the thought may have been one of dissecting the joke and mentally congratulating the comic now there is only "why didn't you think of that you useless cunt".

There are so many shit comics around these days, peddling either political bullshit masquerading as comedy, falling over while wearing funny clothes or just trying to say the most outrageous thing possible without giving regard to it actually being funny that now should be a time where, contrary to popular belief, it is not horrendously difficult to break through. There are people out there desperate for real comedy.

And then of course there's the point that you should be doing it for yourself, if you find it funny then other people will, you aren't unique in that regard after all. But none of that makes any difference, in my head I am useless and there's no point in doing anything for myself because I have absolutely no self-worth.

I know somewhere deep down inside me there is the capability to be funny. Sometime it creeps out but the problem is that it needs to be nurtured, molded and trained into something that can work. The depression keeps it buried. In fact it doesn't just bury it, it comes along with a big shovel and smacks it around the head first just to make sure it doesn't get any more ideas.

Here's how it goes and I imagine this is probably the same for anyone with depression for whatever true career that they would like to have...

Think or say something funny.......... no that's not funny you useless cunt, that first line was appalling, people will fucking laugh at you all right but because you're a stupid cunt. Anyone who told you that was funny is just saying it to try and make you feel better because they know you're a stupid depressed asshole. You're not funny, if you were you'd have done something with it by now. You're almost 40 you fucking twat, people don't start being funny at your age asshole.

I could go on but the tears are coming. It's sickening. It's depressing. It's every fucking day.

The "Top Reds" must now be vanquished.

David Moyes is gone. Finished. It is only a matter of time. The ineptitude that was so clear to so many before he walked through the door at Carrington last June now hits you so hard in the face that everyone who watches United knows what it was like to face Mike Tyson in his prime.

We all knew it would be this way. Moyes has always been a bad manager, he just happened to be part of the furniture at an Everton team where avoiding relegation was a success. The fact that he was there for a decade is, contrary to popular belief, not a sign of his talent. It is the opposite, it shows just how useless he is. How many times in the 10 years Moyes was at Goodison did a club above them approach him to be their manager? I certainly don't remember any but what everyone will remember is how many times in that decade were other teams looking for a good manager. Hundreds, and none of them ever thought to go for Moyes. Imagine for a second the stick United fans would have given City or Chelsea had they used Moyes as one of their many coaches. And all of it would have been deserved.

So why then was Moyes accepted at United? Simple, the man who could do no wrong picked him. Sir Alex Ferguson could have demanded the removal of George Best's statue outside Old Trafford, giving the excuse that he wasn't a good role model to some of the young players coming through, and there wouldn't have been a peep from a section of fans and any discontent from others would have quickly been silenced.

The truth is that for all his success Fergie made plenty of mistakes when he was at United. He should have won the European Cup at least three more times and not have lost the league at least twice. Is it greed to want these as well as the success we had? Of course it is, but this is about winning, if you aren't supporting a football team and wanting to win everything then you're doing it wrong.

Fergie was above criticism though and it wasn't only his success that kept him there. It was the so-called "Top Red". The section of United fans who consider themselves somehow 'better' fans. The devoted, the loyal, the one true fan. They have sat atop their ivory towers for years, using insults to control the mere ordinary fans below them.

Now they cry for Moyes to be given more time, they remind us that Fergie was even though this was a different age and United were an abject failure when Fergie took over. They say that anyone calling for Moyes to be sacked is not a real United fan. What is a real fan anyway, is there an official test? Do FIFA have a handbook to guide you? Can you be an unreal fan?

The thing is that the 'Top Reds' are not United fans. They don't care in the slightest what happens to United, all they want is for people to see them as better than everyone else. And they want to control.

Well now is the time that we must take back control. However you want to be a United fan is up to you, if this means calling for Moyes head then so be it. Do not let those who have no real interest in the club control you into tempering your passion, direct that passion where it is deserved; towards an mediocre manager and the clubs owners who now must sack him. The sooner the better. He is destroying the club more each day, a title winning side that has added £60million (Fellaini & Mata) worth of players and brought up one of the best young prospects in a long time (Janujaz) now is not even being laughed off the pitch after being beaten by a Stoke side managed by Mark Hughes. There is no laughter because it is expected, even the United haters can't be bothered laughing any more, in the space of 10 months things have become that bad.

All caused because the last man on earth who should have been picking the next United manager did. Ferguson's massive ego may have helped bring success but it also brought failure and stupid decisions, this one being the biggest.

Forget about the 'Top Reds', consign them to the same dustbin to which Moyes' reign must be sent immediately.

So you think you don't like me?

A lot of people don't like me. This isn't some sort of depressive nonsense where I am being self-pitying or wanting sympathy, there really are a lot of people who don't like me. Some might even hate me, I don't know. All of these people could make up one long line, but none of them would be at the front. None of their dislike, hatred or even loathing could come close to the person at the head of the line.... me.

I hate myself. I don't just feel down about myself, it's not just a lack of self-worth, I actually do hate myself. With every single good thought I have about myself there is ALWAYS one that follows which tells me why the good thought I had was wrong. But it doesn't just stop there, it tells me why I am such an absolute cunt for even thinking the good thought in the first place.

Some people legitimately don't like me because of the things I say, sometimes I go "too far". This is usually because I am trying to get someone else or another group of people to like me, the opposites of the people who now don't like me.

Do you see what is going on here? I spend so much time wondering what other people are thinking about me. This shows a clear case of low self-worth in that I have to get it from others. But the stupid thing is that I am always thinking that other people are thinking about me, this is narcissism of the highest degree and one of the ironic things about mental health issues, you have polar opposites seemingly living together side by side in your head.

The really crappy thing is that I know that I'm being all of these things and that means that I get to hate myself even more because even though I know what they all are I can't stop them. There's one poor woman on Twitter (you know who you are) who, despite her experience in mental health, can't figure out what I believe about loads of stuff. The problem is, neither can I.

The truth of the matter is that I was conditioned into being this way. I was brought up in a world where up was down, black was white, day was night and there were no borders. A world of abuse. I actually didn't even know the word "borders" meant anything to do with emotions or physicality until I was in my 30s and my therapist explained it to me. Part of me finds that hilarious, party of me finds it sad and, rightly, blames my parents on it but of course another part of me hates myself for it because somehow I "should" have known it. And it's no one but my own fault that I didn't.

This is just a small part of what it's like in the mind of someone mentally ill. There is no sense, it is a jumble of everything and yet nothing all at the same time.

Basically it is the mind of a child. Because the people who were supposed to mold me as a child into an adult made me into something else completely, something that makes no sense. And then in my 30s I had to go back to being a child so I could learn everything again properly. Without abuse.

So you think you've got a handle on mental health?

Think you can handle mental health issues? No, I mean actual mental health issues. Not just the feeling down all the time, not just the wondering is anything ever going to change. The real stuff. The ugliness that perpetuates those feelings. The truth.

Well here then, read on. But be warned.... it's about to get fucking ugly.

I was just in the shower. Whether there was an actual sound or not I don't know, but my brain told me there was one. Couldn't concentrate on it but it sounded vaguely like a child scream. My 3yo son was in the living room watching television, less than 20ft away. That was it. That was enough. The vision came.

I saw him lying on the floor. His head was split open. Blood was everywhere. So were his brains. He had fallen and hit his head on the floor. I saw myself come in. Now I was screaming. A blood curdling scream. Life was over. I couldn't go on. In my head I was going to kill myself. But wait, what about my wife, I had to tell her, I couldn't kill myself straight away, I had to wait. I saw her scream. The same noise. Beyond loud.

All of that happened within a space of about 3 seconds. While I was in the shower. All in my head. Because of a sound that probably didn't even occur.

This is mental health issues. This happens four or five times a day sometimes. Four or five times an hour other days. It happens when I sleep. It never really stops.

What are you meant to do? Can you just stop? No. Do I want to ever experience a thought in my head again where I see my son like that. Something I can barely even write down it causes so much pain? Of course I fucking don't. But I know I will and I don't know when it will stop. If it ever will. This is depression. This is helplessness. This is life.

Now I'll go to the shop with my son and buy him an ice cream when I stop crying. The woman in the shop will see the same smiling guy she sees every day and say "Hi". Little does she know. Little do any of you know.

Sometimes it makes me angry. Wouldn't you be angry? Of course I'm fucking angry that I have to live this way. The anger of course is really with others. The ones who caused this. The ones who treated me so badly as a child. But it's not easy to figure that out on your own when your head is full of such complete and utter bullshit. Therapy helps but no one can have their therapist around 24 hours a day. So if I'm angry cut me some fucking slack. Don't pity me. Just understand.

I'm trying to press the "publish" button for this. I can barely see it through the tears.

I am afraid.

I am always afraid.

What happened America, you used to be cool.

The 80s were shit. Seriously shit. There was bad music, bad fashion and ridiculous hair. But then again i was a teenager for some of it and everything was shit.

Except America. America was cool. I dunno how you managed it but you were. You had an idiot actor for president but you still were cool.

Perhaps it was because everything was big. Big movies, big movie stars, even bigger movie explosions. There were big buildings and big cars. Now all that seems to be big are the egos and the portion sizes.

Then there was the space shuttle. Granted that probably didn't come close to the moon landing days but it was the first I saw of NASA and it was fucking awesome. Basically a bus that went into space, how cool was that?

Now there's no space exploration. Just desert exploration. With guns and tanks. What happened to all the space stuff? Seriously, space stuff is super cool, why don't you do it any more?

It hurts me America. I used to look up to you. When something needed doing you did it. You didn't shirk a challenge and simply showed the rest of the world the way to go.

You even out-comedy'd the English for a while. I mean you can still make brilliant comedies but now they seem lost in the humongous ocean of crap tv that is reality shows and political/religious sermons masquerading as news.

I still try to stick up for you America but you are making it harder every day. When one of my fellow Europeans makes fun of you I try to tell them about my cool American friends. I try to tell them to look at a website where Americans are still funny, hilariously funny, or one where they still care about the rest of the world. But they just end up seeing the idiots on Fox News and my point is lost.

Please America, I want the cool you back.

Illness, it's a bit of a larf...

A young neighbour managed to make it to my sister's wedding just before she died. She had cancer and was skin and bone in a wheel chair. No one laughed.

My friends dad died last Christmas from Motor Neuron disease. He couldn't do a thing at the end. Stuck in a lifeless body with no control over it. No one laughed.

So why did we all piss ourselves when Gazza turned up to see his 'old mate Moaty' last weekend just before he shot himself?

Gazza is ill. He didn't catch anything (well he may have but that's normal enough in Newcastle), he didn't develop any tumors or bits didn't start falling off him. But he's still a very sick man. Still, it's mental illness so it's funny. Isn't it?

Now I'll admit that his interview with local radio did cause me to chuckle. But there's also an underlying feeling of guilt. Why would I laugh at this sick man but not piss myself when I see Stephen Hawking?

Even last weeks protagonist who caused Sky News to go into such a frenzy of 'news gathering' clearly had issues. See, can't even call it sickness, have to say 'issues'.

Now there's no doubt that Raoul Moat should never have done what he did. The shooting other people bit. But why can't we rationally talk about why he did it?

For our friends who read the Daily Mail this does NOT mean that anyone is trying to excuse his actions. It means that there have to be reasons behind them, and don't you think that perhaps trying to find out what these reasons were, and perhaps therefore preventing something similar happening in the future, might be a sensible course of action?

See I've made a mistake there. Well a couple of them. Firstly I assumed that Daily Mail readers are capable of rational thought and secondly that they are capable of sensible courses of action. Rather than the usual 'lock-em-up' or 'send-em-home' ideas.

Nevertheless shouldn't the rest of us be able to discuss it? Perhaps not.

We've never seemed comfortable talking about mental illness. Dunno why. Fear, maybe? Or perhaps the realisation that somewhere deep in our minds we could have the same 'issues'.

Moat apparently complained at the end that no one loved him and he didn't have a father. Given that his mother said he'd be 'better off dead' you can probably see where he's coming from.

The father-figure or lack of one is something increasingly more prevalent today. There is an increasing number of children who reach their teens without having any male role-model in their lives. Daddy might have never been around, or might have left when he found out he was going to be a daddy.

And of course seeing as all men are pedophiles we can't possibly allow them to be teachers in primary schools.

There's a stigma with mental illness. People don't feel comfortable admitting it. Perhaps it's something to do with the fact that if you said you were suffering from something like MS you wouldn't get many people telling you to 'pull yourself together', which seems to be the super-duper solution to every mental illness under the sun.

I don't really know where I'm going with this. It's difficult even to write about because you fear someone will just make light of it or make fun of you for doing so.

So maybe I should just end on a joke?

Who's going to pay the expenses for that Moat last week?

See what I did there? Now I feel guilty and disgusting for doing it. But I'm mentally ill and unfortunately it causes me to have to think in a million different ways about practically everything I do or say.

And that isn't a joke.

It's the little things...

I've never liked jugglers. Seriously. They always come across all fucking smug and like they could have your woman any time they wanted. Bastards.

Anyway that's not really the point. Jugglers rely on keeping many balls in the air at once to enable them to keep their powers of woman pulling. They have to concentrate on them all at the same time. What happens if they just look at one and focus on it? Disaster. Balls on the floor and a lifetime of solitude.

Bit like life don't you think?

No? Well let me explain.

Look at a lot of shit that goes on in the world. You probably only have to look outside your window. Especially if you live somewhere crappy, oh I dunno, let's say Aldershot.

Actually Aldershot is a great example. (There's a sentence very rarely used. Unless it ends with 'of a craphole'.)

I'm lead to believe Aldershot has a lot of drug addicts. Like a lot of other places. Now drug addicts cause a lot of problems. Why? Simples. Because they're only focusing on one ball. All the other of life's balls are dropped and everything becomes a mess.

So that's the drug problem explained then. But that's hardly the cause of all of the world's issues is it? No matter what the Daily Mail might say.

But look at the focusing-on-one-ball-juggling-analogy more closely. Can it be used to explain lots of other bad stuff? I certainly hope so, or this blog is going to go downhill very quickly.

How about this; abortion. Now abortion in my view is a horrible thing. I don't like it. I don't particularly agree with it and I'd like to see it never have to happen. BUT, I live in the real world and understand that, unfortunately, it is sometimes necessary.

In America (and in Ireland) there are the anti-abortionists. (I refuse to call them pro-life because that's just fucking stupid. Who isn't pro-life for fucks sake. Apart from some very religious chaps). The anti-abortionists focus all their time and effort into getting abortion banned. Everything else takes a back seat.

I firmly believe that if there were 2 choices for someone to run the country and one of them said he would ban abortion but at the same time he would nuke Brazil then these people would vote for him. "Fuck Brazil, at least there'll be no more dead babies" is quite possibly something that would be said with a straight face.

See, focusing on one ball again. It doesn't really work well does it.

Psychologically wise this is called addiction. People think they know all about addiction. There's uncle Johnny who likes the booze a bit too much. Or that junkie bastard who'll rob your house if you ever leave.

But addiction doesn't have to involve actually ingesting something. There's gambling addicts for example. But importantly there are many many other types.

The religious can be addicts. If some bloke (usually a pedophile) stands up and tells them they must do something like beat themselves with a wet branch of willow, they'll probably do it. Doesn't make any sense whatsoever, but religion tends not to do sense. Mind you it does more sense than whatever that bullshit masquerading as 'atheism' is these days. Those idiots are managing to be addicts to something that they think doesn't exist.

So why would anyone do something so stupid? There's no evidence AT ALL that what they are doing is worthwhile but they'll go ahead anyway. Because their focusing on one ball again. Perhaps it's the ball that some beardy bloke in the sky will be annoyed at them, or perhaps it's the ball saying they'll be re-incarnated as a dung beetle. Doesn't matter, the ability to reason and evaluate all the facts and opinions goes completely out the window. Just the same as the guy who will do anything to get that next bit of white powder.

Then look at the current financial situation. Years spent focusing on the ball of profit. "Yeah, don't worry about that huge debt and shit, buy that big fucking building made of marshmallow, we'll make a killing." (This was actually in the minutes of a meeting at Goldman Sachs. Ok, it wasn't really, but would you honestly be surprised if it was).

So I propose you all become jugglers. Juggling training must start immediately. No more focusing on one ball.

I'm not doing it obviously as I hate jugglers. Along with a lot of other things.