Meth: a Ticking Timebomb Gone Viral

Breaking Good

Until yesterday, I think I was the only meth addict who hadn't watched the series, Breaking Bad. It's funny how in my mind, I thought it was all about cooking meth, but in reality, it is so much more than that. I'm only up to episode four of the first instalment, but I'm enjoying it immensely.

The last time I saw my psychiatrist, he suggested I may be Bipolar. I looked into the symptoms of the disorder and dismissed it as unlikely. Now, however, I am not so sure. I've been very up and down over the last few weeks, and it appears that after I do weights, I feel better. This makes sense because of the endorphins that my brain produces during resistance training, but by late afternoon the effects have worn off and I fall back into a state of what I can only describe as 'flatness'.

It isn't a serious issue. I'm not suicidal (far from), but looking at things from afar, I could be, at times, manic. I assumed the term was used to describe bouts of euphoria followed by depression. I can see myself in this description, only on a milder scale. Bipolar Disorder is closely associated with psychosis, and whilst I am only guessing (as does any doctor when diagnosing symptoms like mine), the psychiatrist may have been onto something.

I do not regret stopping the antipsychotics. My symptoms are mild, and if I stick to the program of not paying the hallucinations any attention during daylight hours, they are of little consequence. It's only at night when I go to bed that the faces of demons appear behind my closed eyes.

I have a routine now that helps me avert them (to a degree). As soon as the lights are out, I say a prayer, and for some reason (I hear the Christians saying, "Ahh, durrr!"), the images never disturb me during this time. But once I am done praying (which I have always thought to be a type of meditation) I set a timer for ten minutes and begin to meditate. This is, without fail, when the demons appear. They get right up in my face, smiling sardonically. Last night I changed tactics and meditated with my eyes open...focusing on my breathing and a streetlight outside my bedroom's glass doors. This helped, and once I was finished I laid down and no more visions appeared before I fell asleep.

I need to focus on the positives and not give negative thoughts too much attention. I know how lucky I am to be here in Thailand and how much hard work I have done to get myself (both physically and mentally) where I am. A long time ago, I wrote a joke that said, "It's much sadder when a rich person dies than when a poor one does." I know that's not true in a literal sense, but in my sick and twisted mind, I found it funny because there is an element of truth behind it.

In the past, I have asked the demons if they wanted me to kill myself, and by and large, they would nod their approval. I would then laugh at them saying, "I'm too wealthy to commit suicide, but maybe when I've spent all my money, I might consider it." Some might say I'm not funny (just take a look at the jokes I've written on my port and it would be hard to argue otherwise) "Jokes"  but for the most part, I claim comedic licence.

It's now the wet season in Thailand. Hua Hin is one of the driest places in the country, but it still rains most days. It's not like it pours down all day, and if I plan to go for a ride, I get up early hoping to miss the afternoon thunderstorms before they arrive...which makes things bearable. At least the heat has dissipated somewhat. It's still humid, but I no longer have to run my aircon during the day and the ceiling fan keeps the heat mostly at bay.

I did weights and cardio this morning, but I need supplies from the markets, so I'll risk the weather (some people walk in the rain...others just get wet) and go for a walk. Rain never seems to bother the locals and that's good enough for me.