ISBN: 978-1-905610-38-9
Published: 2006
Pages: 409

Description

David Wilmott was born in 1956, to a catholic family. One of seven children, he grew up in Bedfordshire. At the age of thirteen David left school to train as a priest in St. Albans. David was an exceptional footballer and was expected to become a professional but instead he opted to take up the hippy lifestyle. David became addicted to amphetamine at an early age and was admitted to an institution at the age of 16 after overdosing, David subsequently spent much of his teens in and out of hospitals as he battled his addiction. During this time David almost died from Hepatitus B and suffered many overdoses. Having conquered his addictions in his twenties, David worked in various sales positions before setting up his own business setting up a recording studio in an old hat factory in Luton! After the eventual failure of his business (due to a series of burglaries) and his divorce David suffered a breakdown and became addicted to prescription tranquilisers. He eventually moved to live with his parents in Kendal where, after one suicide attempt, he met his second wife. His second marriage also ended in divorce under the strain of his depression and . David now lives next-door to his wife and six of his eight children. Currently David is unable to work has no appetite or energy and suffers from extreme mood swings. David has lost all faith in adults and as he puts it 'society's (post Thatcher) shallow and sad vested interests and general greed for all things' he hopes his book will help people to understand that life is not all about attainment and fulfilment through greed, thus helping to right some of society's wrongs.

Book ExtractIt's 6am. I get out of bed. Wife is snoring baby on breast and B5 at bottom of bed. It's hot again. Hot days cold nights. I'm delirious. I'm starving hungry. I eat some cereal. I eat it really fast and when I'm finished I want some more. I'm still tired from the sleeping tablets and this overrides the indigestion. I eat a piece of wife's cake. I want to eat and eat and eat. I look for chocolate, anything. I stop. The cereal was enough, too much maybe. The cake was definitely too much and too quick. I try to ignore the oncoming pain. I smoke a joint-that'll help-it doesn't. Back to bed. Woke at 9am. Baby crying. She stopped crying and we caught each other's eyes. She's so beautiful. So tender, gentle, loving. Just beautiful. Loud though.

Wife stirred everyone for Mass. I pretended to be asleep. She just looked at me and said 'You coming?' pause 'No, OK? See you later' I suppose she does this often. She spoke softly and gave me no guilt. I wasn't going anywhere.

Got up at 1 p.m.. G14 was looking on the Internet for churches. The project she is doing was about both Catholic and Protestant. I told her the true meaning of the word 'pervert' was someone who had crossed over from Catholic to Protestant. Can't remember where I heard that but I'd remembered it. I don't know if it's true.