Once I was unbelievably excited to cast my vote – but this election, I'll be spoiling my ballot

I suspect that many who will not vote on 8 June will include not just the feckless and politically apathetic, but also many who would love to find a box in which to put their cross, but can’t

'In 1997 I was ecstatic to vote for the first time. Now I can't find a single leader to vote for' (Daniel Leal-Olivas/PA Archive/PA Images)

I can clearly remember everything about the first time I voted. It was May 1997: I was 19 and an unbelievably excited undergraduate.

I was gutted that I didn't get to use a voting booth to do so because, well, I was an unembarrassed political geek and had organised a proxy vote for my home town, which was a marginal unlike where I found myself living in Newcastle.

But, still, I had voted! I had waited for years to cast a ballot, following previous elections with more excitement than is normal for child who really ought to have been playing computer games, and the act of casting my ballot didn't disappoint. Even at a distance there was a magic to the whole process. Participatory democracy is beautiful.

Oh to be alive, young and idealistic, on 2nd May 1997. I will always remember how the sun shone on that Friday morning and Tony Blair told us that there was a “new dawn”.

I've never once missed an opportunity to vote since. I even love rattling around in an echoing school sports hall, outnumbered by bored electoral officials, trying to make sense of a European Parliament voting paper.

So on 8 June, I will again make my way to the local primary on the way to work. But on this occasion I will spoil my ballot.

I've struggled hard with this, pretty much since Theresa May surprised everyone with her snap election, and it is with a grave heart that I have come to realise I'm totally and utterly alienated from all political parties.

How did I get to this point? Setting to one side the Green and Ukip lunatic fringes, which are at best campaign groups and not real political parties, let's take the options one at a time.

First up: the Tories. As a “blue Labour”-ish kind of fella, there was actually quite a lot for me to like in the Conservative manifesto. I was especially pleased to see the stuff about market intervention in the energy sector and I even rather liked the social care policies. But I am an unreformed Remainer – none of this “reliever” stuff for me – and can't stomach the idea of voting for a party that has been occupied by people normally considered the crazy Eurosceptic minority.

Next, Labour. I am not going to cast a ballot for a glorified communist who, I feel, has never properly condemned the IRA. Ever. Even though I like my local, moderate, Labour MP very much, I can't risk my vote being considered an endorsement for Corbyn. He has appointed a former Communist Party member who once expressed “solidarity” with North Korea. ‘Nuff said.

Finally, the Liberal Democrats. I'd like to cast my ballot for a proud Remain party, but, sadly, I can't. I can't vote for a religious zealot whose views on homosexuality seem in question. I thought we were over all that; it would seem we are not.

So there you have it. I am totally and utterly alienated from politics. I suspect I'm not alone. I suspect that many who will not vote on 8 June will include not just the feckless and politically apathetic, but also many who would love to find a box in which to put their cross, but can’t.