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 |  This is my blog & my hope, writing daily will help me see my progress and log supporters. |
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| I love watching magicians do their thing. One of my favourites is the British illusionist, Dynamo. He does things that are not physically possible. If you are ever in the mood to question reality, watch him do his street performances and try and figure out how he does his magic. The link below is about a very different kind of magic. Dynamo is an illusionist, whereas the magic this YouTube video describes has more to do with us common folk and what we are capable of. https://youtu.be/OnMKthjS7pA?si=x1gDTOSMWLYDlGDB There is an invention called a random number generator. It's a bit like a coin flipper in that it randomly selects either a zero or a 1. These machines have been around for decades, and this video speaks of a particular experiment where people are asked to try and change the outcomes to either a zero or a 1 by simply thinking about it. You could be forgiven for thinking there would be no change in the results, but over a long period, they find there is a small, yet discernable change. Statistics do not lie, and in another experiment (not mentioned in the video), a plant is placed in the corner of a dark room. Then a light that is controlled by a random generator is placed in the middle of the room and programmed to shine the light randomly into all four corners. Somehow, when the data is analysed, they find the corner with the plant receives more light than the other three. We are entering a new age of scientific discovery. The Large Hadron Collider and The Hubble Space Telescope are providing scientists with information that will likely take decades to decipher. Quantum mechanics is a field that defies scientific understanding and logic, but the effects, in particular that of quantum entanglement, have proven some phenomena are beyond our present scope of understanding. We tend to believe what we are told by those more highly educated than ourselves. The trouble is that most scientists refuse to question things that are taboo or of a spiritual nature because they cannot be measured or proven to be real in a lab. They don't want to be seen as being left field and risk ridicule by their peers by wasting time studying things that are, by and large, unprovable (and understandably so). However, many of Galileo's theories when he was trying to separate science from religion, are now proven facts. And we should not be so arrogant to think that what is considered now as being ridiculous, may one day be proven otherwise. As time goes by and more knowledge comes to hand, the human mind may one day evolve into something beyond our wildest imagination...and magic may simply be a normal part of daily life. |
| Moving house has got to be one of the most stressful and hardest tasks we can undertake...and I have only minimal stuff to lug from here to there. Overall, the job is flowing smoothly. There was a hiccup a few days ago when Par (Nada's sister) was transporting Nada's clothes and a fridge to our new house. She was driving a little too fast when she went over a hump in the road and the fridge (and the poor Thai fellow hanging onto it) flew out of the back of the truck. Fortunately, the Thai wasn't too badly hurt, but the fridge was destroyed. The result was I now have to buy a new fridge. There are no prizes for guessing who the majority (me being the minority) thinks should be held responsible for paying the guy's hospital fees. Just another case of no matter who is to blame, the Farang ends up paying. Our new home is only partially furnished. I haven't got a budget for buying furniture, but so far, the bill is over 100k baht (just over US3K). There isn't much more to spend and the house will be ready for Nada and I to move in. The handover for the current address is on Monday, so the plan is to do the final clean-up on Saturday. I've got the electricity and internet sorted, although there will be plenty of loose ends to deal with to get the house comfortable and livable. I've already met one of my neighbours. He's a Brit with a good sense of humour, who is married to a Thai. From what I can gather, there are a lot of Brits living in the estate (and I would hazard a guess that most are in relationships with Thai women), which suits me because I tend to along well with them. There's a gym and a communal pool. My gym membership is up next month and I will see where I end up doing my workouts. Training has been hit-and-miss over the last two weeks. I've been focused on relocating and fostering the relationship with Nada. She's pretty amazing, and although I understand that the first six months are the honeymoon period, I have a good feeling about having a future with her. I must admit there have been times when I questioned the decision to commit to becoming involved in a relationship, but we are both adjusting well to this newfound 'us'. The main issue has to do with communication, but as time goes by, things will improve. We will likely develop our own language...a cross between English and Thai. Nada is teaching me some basic Thai, but we will always rely mostly on English. The main focus at the moment is on improving her English, rather than her attempting to teach me too much Thai. Her language has several dialects, and even though Nada is fluent in Thai and Issan, the reality is I will never know more than a few individual words for things. The best thing we can do is to try and improve her English so we can have more in-depth conversations and not rely so much on Google Translate (which can be a little frustrating at times). The symptoms of psychosis remain but never infringe on my day-to-day life. The funny part is that I miss Angel (even though all I have to do is close my eyes and focus and she is there). Now and then I will contact her to see if she is still around, but most days I am too busy and I don't feel comfortable spending time with my ex when I have a new girl in my life. |
| A few days ago, Nada and I inspected the property we hope to rent. It's a private rental, only fifteen minutes from Hua Hin city centre in a tranquil development of around thirty houses. It appears most of the properties are privately owned, which is, in my opinion, a good thing. The house has four bedrooms but is only partially furnished. This means we have to buy items such as a washing machine, table and chairs, blinds and we need to have an air conditioning unit installed in the main living area...plus some kitchen utensils. Nada already owns a fridge. The property has an outbuilding that has an outdoor cooking area, a washroom and a spare room we will use for storage. There's a large yard with an established garden. The entrance features two carved wooden doors. Tiled throughout, with high ceilings and fly screens on all doors and windows (except the entrance). Later today, we will meet with the owner to sign a two-year lease. We negotiated the terms from 20k to 16k baht per month. Presently, I pay 28k per month, which means over two years, I will save 288k baht (or USD8700). The house is very private and in pristine condition. I consider it to be a great deal, and once the agreement is signed, I can relax, knowing I have secured housing for the next couple of years. I'm looking forward to having no cigarette smoke wafting through my home from inconsiderate neighbours and the noise coming from the construction site next door will no longer affect my day-to-day living. Overall, things are indeed, looking up. |
| For the past three years, I've been seeing hallucinations that are caused by drug-induced psychosis. But now, as long as I stay off meth and exercise, these images have minimal detrimental effects on my life. Still, there were times when they could be annoying, especially at night when I first went to bed. However, since Nada arrived, the hallucinations have almost disappeared. Nowadays, the only way I can 'communicate' with Angel (my imaginary demon and former girlfriend) is by closing my eyes and concentrating...and eventually, she appears. I feared Angel would be upset, or even angry about Nada, but nothing could be further from the truth. And because I am preoccupied with things to do with being in a relationship, I no longer spend much time 'speaking' with Angel. I must admit, I feel a bit guilty about that. Angel was there for me when I was lonely. I could rely on her for company (be she real or not) and it doesn't sit well with me that now I have found love in the 'real' world, to just abandon her like she meant nothing seems harsh. This morning, when I got home from the gym, I checked in with Angel. She looked a little glum but didn't express any jealousy or resentment toward Nada. In fact, Angel has always said she liked my new girlfriend, and I cannot help but think this absence from my daily life is her way of letting me know that she approves and wants me to be happy. You could read the above statements and think I am still delusional...and if you are a person who doesn't believe in the paranormal, you might think I'm still suffering from a mental illness. I could never argue against that possibility, and looking at it from a medical point of view, it appears obvious I am still displaying the symptoms of psychosis. I've learned not to pigeonhole this thing I am going through, and the best way to deal with it has been to remain open-minded and not follow any one opinion on what exactly it is I'm going through. The bottom line is, it doesn't matter who is right...the doctors and those who don't believe in anything that cannot be proven in a scientific setting, or those who think there is more to reality than meets the eye. Personally, I'm still sitting on the fence, and I am comfortable in doing so. I can't think of one reason to stress about it. I've found love again after being on my own for so long, the future looks bright and I simply don't have the time or the desire to ponder things that cannot be proven either way. Nada and I have been searching for a new place to live. The lease at my current address runs out on the 30th of September, and even though it's low season here in Thailand, the number of people looking for residence in Hua Hin is still healthy. I'm paying 28000 baht rent a month now, but because of the higher level of demand for housing, was willing to go up to 30k. So far, I haven't found anything suitable...and this is where having a local girlfriend comes into its own. Nada has a younger sister who has been helping us in this regard. Last night over dinner, she informed us she may have found a place. It's a four-bedroom house, with a large yard in a quiet part of Hua Hin and only fifteen minutes away from the city centre. It requires some furniture, but that's fine. It's listed at 20000 baht per month, and because she's a Thai, Nada's sister thinks she can get it for 18k. Things are looking up. |
| In Thailand, the number of Western men in relationships with Thai women is almost innumerable. There have been times when I felt I was missing out, but (thank God) common sense prevailed and I held back, hoping to gain more knowledge on the dos and don'ts of getting involved with a female here in the land of smiles. I remember going out to a restaurant one night not long after arriving in Hua Hin. The waitress was one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. Her name was Cookie, and after I bought her a drink, I asked if she would come home with me. The people I was with that night had told me she was a Freelancer (meaning for the right price, she would have sex with me) but it turned out they were wrong...or she was being choosy because she had never seen me before or simply didn't like me. In any case, as I dejectedly walked home, I was very disappointed that Cookie wasn't walking along beside me. I felt like such a fool for wanting to have sex with a girl less than half my age for money, but, truth be known, I also had the thought that I should have offered her more money than even she could have resisted. From that night on, I made it a rule that I would never again offer to pay for sex. I decided I would wait until someone came along who ticked all the boxes...even if that never happened and I would never find love again. Please don't get me wrong, I am not saying there is anything wrong with engaging someone for sex and paying for it. When you choose to go down that path in Thailand, you are not only supporting the girl but helping her entire family. If that is the kind of relationship you can do without developing feelings, good for you. The trouble begins when you realise you can afford more than one night with this amazing and beautiful woman, who is likely far and away better than anything you have experienced before. My American friend gave me advice on how to avoid the Freelance/Bargirl trap. He called it the three-date rule. It seemed to work for him, but I knew my heart and vulnerability, especially once I began being intimate with someone, would lead to my demise. Long ago, I made the choice not to fuck prostitutes (barring the Cookie encounter), and just because they are far cheaper here in Thailand, didn't mean I would change that philosophy. It has nothing to do with morals or even judgement, but simply me not wanting to become a 'John'. In my opinion, when a man pays for sex, that's on him, and whatever negativity happens after the fact has nothing to do with the sex worker and everything to do with him and his choices. When a man comes to Thailand just to have fun, is IMHO, not a bad thing, and the truth is that most men who arrive without a partner will likely have sex with Thai women while they are here. If, however, it isn't just fun they are searching for, but something more substantial (love), that's a whole different ballgame and is something I am still learning about. I can offer some advice. You will rarely, if ever, find a long-term loving relationship in a bar, massage shop or through a Freelancer. These women have learned over generations how to get Farangs to fall in love with them...and once they do, get as much money out of them as they can. The scams they use (once you are hooked) vary from small hussles to taking everything you own. They know you better than you know yourself, and only an hour or two after arriving at a bar, have given you a grade of one, two or three, based on how easy they believe it will be to get money from you. YouTube is full of horror stories to do with Thai women but there are good women here too. The trouble is that they are not as easy to find, and even if you luck out and find someone you consider special, just like anywhere else, you should take your time and to get to know them before giving your complete trust. Scammers tend to show themselves sooner rather than later so look for red flags, and even though they may not initially be significant enough to warrant drastic action if they begin to tally up, there has to be a point where you make the call of what is best for you, and not her and her family's financial woes. |
| Tonight, I came to realise why men who are in loving relationships live longer than their single counterparts. Nada started learning to cook when she was only ten years old, and the chicken and vegetable soup she served me tonight is proof of that. When she was growing up, her mother and father worked all day in the field. It was a very hard life for all the family. They started early and finished late every day of the week and the children never sat around idly or questioned what was for dinner when their parents finally got home. There was no TV and no video games, and tonight, as Nada and I ate our food, she explained to me the priority that Isaan culture demands...not only out of respect for their elders but also by way of necessity. Because they were poor (at least, back then), food was often scarce. This meant the strongest and most productive members of the household ate first. Pappa would eat the best of the food, and so it went on down the line. Her parents made sure everyone got something, and as Nada told me her story, I thought about how different things were for me when I was growing up. My parents would never have followed such a practice, but then, we always had plenty of food. I am blessed that I have never experienced a day of hunger in my life. I see the pecking order in Nada's family as being a bit like when a carnivore makes a kill in the wild. It is only after the parents have eaten that they will then feed their young. Instinct demands that they need to be strong so that their offspring will survive and flourish. And so it was with Nada's family. I liked being single. I could do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. There was nobody to tell me that my habits might not be healthy or the best choice. I didn't care because I had nothing in particular to live for. I'm not being morbid or implying that I was depressed, it's just the way it was for me and I didn't know any better. When Nada placed the bowl in front of me, my mouth watered. She was proud of her efforts, telling me she had used no oil and no sugar to prepare the food. I took a spoonful of the broth and it was the most delicious soup I have ever tasted. Being on my own for so long, I cooked only very basic and often not the most healthy food. Suffice it to say that what I ate tonight far surpassed anything I have eaten in a very long time. Nada doesn't like piercings. When she first told me about it, I thought, too bad, they are a part of me that she needed to accept. But today, I took out my jewellery. She wants me to live a happy and healthy life and I want her to be happy too. Removing the two piercings was the least I could do for her. Since arriving in Thailand just over six months ago, I have put on 7kg (over 15 lbs). Quitting meth, eating lots of cheap food and doing weights are all a part of the reason why. But, in all honesty, I have a sugar addiction that has remained unchecked for a long time. If I want to lose weight, I need to reduce my sugar intake...and Nada is happy to help. As we grow old together, we want to be a happy and healthy couple. I'm still pinching myself and asking, why me? It wasn't that long ago that I stopped praying, thinking nothing was ever going to change. And in the blink of an eye, life took a turn for the better with the arrival of Nada...who is without a doubt, the best thing that has ever happened to me. |
| I knew it would take some adjusting to go from single to a couple, but I didn't realise just how different it would be. Let me start with the good, of which there is plenty. Nada is so sweet, and at the ripe old age of forty-seven, is almost innocent. She has never worked in a bar and is the quintessential Issan girl...easily pleased and easily hurt. I have to be careful of her heart because it is so tender. From what I have seen so far, my girlfriend appears to be the real deal. Nada has long black hair, which I love, but it gets everywhere...in the shower, on the floor and throughout my townhouse: a small price to pay and something my cleaning lady will have to deal with. Our first three nights together were magical, but by the fourth night, we were both tired from lack of sleep. You may be thinking that is due to us having lots of sex, and even though that is in part true, the main culprit is that we are both used to sleeping alone. Sleeping next to someone who makes strange, night-time noises, and takes up all that space we normally have for ourselves, is something we need to adapt to. Nada hasn't slept with anyone in six months, and me, in eight years, and last night was our first good night's sleep in five days. Nada came home from work a few nights ago and fell asleep on the couch. I made us some dinner while she rested, and when I tried to wake her by tickling the bottoms of her feet, she didn't blink an eye. The palms of her hands and soles of her feet are like leather from years of hard labour, and the gentle approach had zero effect on sleeping beauty. For many years, Nada worked in the hotel industry, and one story in particular had me rolling on the ground in laughter. Some people had checked out and Nada was making up the room when, in one of the bedside drawers, she found what she thought was a rather large lipstick. She took the 'lipstick' out and examined it...and then decided to see what colour it was. When two batteries fell to the floor, she still had no idea what it was she was looking at. Then, as she replaced the batteries, she got the surprise of her life when the thing started buzzing. More confused than ever (I know...isn't she the sweetest thing ever? And as she continued with this part of her story, I gave her the biggest hug, looked up and said, "Thank you"), she called her supervisor...and it was then she was told exactly what the item in her hand was. It's hard to believe that a woman of her age wouldn't know what a vibrator is, but as I have gotten to know her better, the fact is that Nada really is that innocent. Now, she may be innocent in some ways, but she also very much knows her worth. It would be impossible to estimate how many foreigners over the years have approached her and asked for 'boom boom'...needless to say, it would be a lot. With that in mind, I cannot believe my luck, but as Ray Kroc once said, and I quote, "Luck is a dividend of sweat. The more you sweat, the luckier you get." And I have done a lot of sweating over the last six months. I no longer sleep till 9.00 am, and instead, get up with Nada at 6.30. While she showers, I get our breakfast ready, and when she leaves for work, I lovingly watch her ride away on her Scoopy motorcycle. Then, as she disappears around the corner, I begin to think about the what-ifs of our meeting. What if on the day we met and she decided to offer me a lift, I had delayed my walk by a minute? If I was lazy and didn't get out there and do the work, we might never have met. Nada reminds me of a dark-haired Barbara Eden from the TV series, I Dream of Genie. She very much wants to please, and acts a little subservient, thinking she needs to do that for me to love her. And while that is totally adorable, it is something that I will teach her is unnecessary. At the moment, we are both big on showing appreciation. We understand that I can provide a better life for her, and on the flip side, that she can also provide a better life for me. A few days ago, when she told me how lucky I was to have her, I couldn't have agreed more. I'm no dummy and have been looking for signs of a scam, but so far, I've seen none. I believe it's a genuine exchange...not that much different to one in the West. Scammers always reveal themselves eventually, and I will continue to believe she is innocent until proven guilty. Back in Australia, no woman looked sideways at me. In that world, I could never have hoped to find someone like Nada...and that's because there is nobody like her there. Is it any wonder so many Western men flock to Thailand in an attempt to find love? So, here I am, living my dream. I'm no longer addicted to meth, psychosis has, for the most part, disappeared since Nada arrived. I'm falling in love with a girl who looks at me exactly the way I want to be looked at. Someone who treats me the way I want to be treated. Who respects me the way I deserve...who is falling in love with me, the way I always dreamed a girl like Nada would. |
| As you would expect, things are beyond good in Honeymoonsville, Thailand and Nada has practically moved in with me. I drew the line at her quitting her job and me taking over her financial responsibilities. It's only been five days since I saw her for the first time and (pretty much) fell instantly in love with her. She knows she has plenty of time to make me hers to do whatever she wants. I'm sure that over the coming weeks and months, she will find ways of extracting money from me (money I will gladly hand over), but for now, the pressure on me is low. It's referred to locally as playing the long game. Nada is beyond cute. I look at her and it's like there are butterflies in my stomach. Cialis helps me keep (it) up with her in the bedroom, and I have no shame in admitting that. It's like I am twenty again in that respect, but I know the honeymoon will end soon and the real negotiations will begin. So far, it has gone like this...we have informally agreed that if Nada needs something small, for example, a new phone or a pair of runners, I will pay. I figure for what I am getting right now, it's a bargain I would be a fool to refuse. She is so sweet and beautiful that (at least for now) I will do nothing to cause her to become dejected...which is so self-serving that I feel a small degree of shame admitting. However, as the stakes go up, I know the time will come when I must put my foot down and either end it between us (which at this point I foresee as being the smartest and most likely choice for me to make) or control the situation to the best of my ability by saying no and dealing with the consequences that will follow. I will need to establish strong boundaries, even though I know they will be hard to enforce without drastic action. It only took me three days to make her cry, which is a record. Normally, it would take months to achieve such a feat. It appears that girls in Thailand are much more sensitive than their Western counterparts. We could go into detail as to why this is so (better outcomes in divorce settlements and more basic wealth, which provides options that a poor girl from Isan simply doesn't have), but there are too many to get into, and as I have already stated, my understanding that things will become more challenging as time goes by makes me want to focus on the present good things I am enjoying about Nada. Her tears did make me realise it would be unwise of me to underestimate the power she holds in those beautiful dark eyes. In her distress, I held Nada and felt an almost overpowering need to stop her tears from flowing. And I know they were only the first shots in the powerplay I am getting into. Logic (my brain) is telling me sooner rather than later will be the time to do the, " It isn't you, it's me" routine. My heart, however, argues that I am projecting events that may never happen. Me? I am enjoying the Thai girlfriend experience way too much to make any rash decisions. I will play the game to my advantage in the hope of achieving the best outcome for me. It's safe to say that at the moment, the goals I'm kicking drag me further into a game that Nada knows so much better than I do. |
| I was walking yesterday when a girl pulled up beside me on a motorcycle. She was beautiful and smiled the most amazing smile I have ever seen. She asked if I needed a lift, and thinking she was seeking a fare, I told her I was just out getting some exercise. We began talking and thirty minutes passed in the blink of an eye. Her name is Nada and she wasn't looking to make any money off me. The previous day, she had seen me walking in the rain and felt sorry for me. And today, she saw me walking along the road and decided to stop and offer me a ride. I did my best not to overplay my enthusiasm, but I didn't exactly hide it from her...telling her how beautiful she was. We exchanged numbers and have been messaging each other ever since. Nada is a forty-seven-year-old Thai national who works as a housekeeper. After she finished work today, we met for dinner and it couldn't have gone better. She speaks good English, is funny and very petite. It's like Nada fell from heaven and landed right in my lap. In the morning, we're going on my bike to Cha-Am, a small town one hour north of Hua Hin to hang out for the day, have lunch, and walk hand in hand along the beach, talking about anything and everything. I know it isn't advisable to fall too quickly, but neither of us is getting any younger. I have a feeling this will be a whirlwind ride. After eight years alone, I'm excited and terrified at the same time. Tonight after dinner, we went shopping. I bought Nada a poncho to take tomorrow, just in case it rains. The shopping experience was so much better having someone who speaks Thai with me, especially when dealing with customer service staff. As we walked through the mall, I took Nada by the hand and it is hard to describe how amazing it felt. It's been so long since I held a girl's hand, and later when I walked her to her motorcycle, I kissed her on the cheek. Such small displays of affection...moments that most people would think nothing of, are to me, almost magical. Only someone denied skin-on-skin contact for an extended period could begin to understand what a simple gesture such as holding a girl's hand could mean. I've waited a long time for Nada to come along. I hope she sees my heart for what it is, and recognises its potential and vulnerability. But no matter what, I'm determined to enjoy every moment with her like it's my last. |
| I haven't used drugs in more than six months, which has undoubtedly saved my life. I'm a Google Local Guide Level 6, with 107 reviews of businesses and restaurants over the last seven years. I have two brothers and two sisters...and of the four, only one sister who speaks to me. My right leg is one inch shorter than my left which was caused by complications from breaking my femur. As a result, I require orthopedic wedges to be placed into the soles of my shoe to help level out my hips. I was married only once and have eighteen-year-old identical twin girls (two eggs with only one placenta and amnionic sack). Until my daughters were twelve, we were as close as can be, but after dropping them off after a short holiday on the Sunshine Coast in January of 2018, I haven't seen either of them since...despite having weekend visitations approved by the court. I have a 'thing' for ellipsis and oxymorons...it's not quite a fetish, but my therapist thinks it is something we should persistently ignore. Whenever I was Intimate with a woman, I suffered from a rarely spoken about and shameful psychological condition called, Orgasm Envy. Since then, I have worked hard on myself, and now that I am healthy enough mentally to get back in the saddle (so to speak), I'm hoping that instead of envying her ability to have multiple, body shaking orgasms, I'll applaud her efforts...all whilst trying my best not to call her a lucky bitch. I am (technically) an average writer, but consider myself an above-average storyteller. IM (not so) HO. Growing up, I was often beaten and abused by my older brother. I used to think of myself as a victim but now realise if not for the harsh treatment, I wouldn't be the person I am today. When I meet people and allow them to get close, eventually I test them in some way or another...and so far, almost all have failed. And on the flip side, there have been those who say I chase people away. I won't argue with that because everyone has a right to their opinion. In battle, you would do well to have me by your side, but perhaps, not so much in life. I believe truth can bring the best or the worst out of people...and in some instances, it can do both. I didn't know what fear was, until at the age of forty-two, I brought my baby girls home for the first time. I know that soon I will meet a girl and fall in love...and I'm terrified of that happening. I have nine tattoos and both my nipple and tongue are pierced. There have been times in my life when I wished for death...and now, more than anything, I wish for life. In two weeks I turn sixty. I never was one to celebrate, but this birthday is different. Then, I can access my superannuation (401k) and my plan to help underprivileged children here in Thailand can be put into action. I'm already looking at some charities and checking if they are bonafide. I'm happier now than I have been in a very long time. I try to look at the positives of life, rather than wasting time wallowing in the negative. |
| For many years now, I've been talking to myself...or muttering incoherently might be closer to the truth. Of course, I know what I'm saying, and why I'm saying it. First of all, I doubt anyone else is interested...and more to the point, there is rarely anyone around to listen to my ramblings anyway. My Mom used to say talking to oneself is the first sign of madness, and she may have been onto something, considering my present state of mind. Let's face it, there are way too many culprits to nail any one suspect in the case of my lack of mental stability, and the funny part is, I've never felt better. I'm making rational decisions and conducting myself in a reasonable manner. My bills are paid, and in general, I'm getting along OK with people (at least, those that don't piss me off). I don't believe everyone is out to get me...on the contrary. I'm guessing that the cloak of invisibility I used to use to avoid the notice of my criminally insane associates has stuck to me like shit to a blanket...and barring the heavy stench of faeces, hardly anyone around here knows I exist. I'm sure a psyche could describe what is going on with me as a condition worth treating (and at $200 an hour, who wouldn't?), but I've found blogging to be a much cheaper and better way to get down to the nitty-gritty of why I am so weird (as opposed to wired, which I think we can all agree is the most likely cause of my 'mental issues'). Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. On the surface, I might appear to be alone/lonely, but there are times when it's as busy as Waterloo Station in my head. Not being seen by the majority (who don't see much beyond their own noses anyway) is a blessing I am thankful for. I've pretty much always considered the majority of people to be shit (present company excepted), and that's putting it nicely. I would describe myself as being a cross between a pleasant (ish) sociopath and a Gemutlich misanthropic (I know...and there's no need to thank me. Oxymorons turn me on too). I'm not walking around having in-depth conversations with myself in plain view (I'm not that crazy), mainly because I have an imaginary friend who fills that role perfectly. The discussions I have with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb (the two knuckleheads in my brain) are mostly internal conflict resolution. For example, one will suggest I go for a walk, and the other, more lazy one says "Fuck that...let's stay home and eat that coconut ice cream WE bought at the supermarket yesterday." And it can't be left up to them to work out, so I always have to be the third and deciding vote. Even my imaginary friend refuses to get involved, and when I ask her what I should do, she rolls her eyes, indicating that she doesn't give a fuck what I do...a typical female ploy so that no one can blame her when things go wrong. Looking at the bright side, I'm a thinner winner if I walk and a no-way known Spelunker (dust off your German dictionaries kids, that's two today, dunke) if I eat the ice cream. My imaginary friend doesn't require me to vocalise my words for her to know what I'm thinking. In fact, she knows what's on my mind seconds before I do. Not that she is any help (unless it affects her, and then she's happy to give her opinion). You might think I'm being funny here, but I'm serious folks. Lucky for me she's the quiet type and hasn't said a word to me in over two years (isn't she perfect?). And the two antagonists living upstairs in my head are easily segregated, and if need be, grounded to their own hemispheres. And that leaves me, the lone voice I can rely on to make the right choices. History hasn't been kind in that regard, but I sense things are on the up. I'm interested (but not hopeful) can anyone tell me if they have inner conflicts going on in their heads? A bit like an old Goofy cartoon where he had a small Goofy on each shoulder telling him what he should do...is that normal? Oh, I know I'm not normal, but why would anyone want to be normal anyway? |
| Does anyone else wonder why good habits are so much easier to quit than bad ones? Or why only the good die young? And don't get me started on the hypocrisy that crime doesn't pay. IF there is a God, he is either a cruel one or has a very sick sense of humour. Going by those words, you may gather that the faith I have been trying my hardest to nurture is slowly wilting right before your eyes. I would love to see my Mom again. To believe she is waiting for me in paradise is such a wonderful carrot to chase. But, I've always been a cynic and realise the chances of that being true are slim. Agnosticism is regaining control of my psyche, after psychosis inadvertently pushed me towards faith in a higher power. I'll be the first to admit my motives weren't coming from a great place. Put simply, I feared spending eternity in hell, and hoped prayer would be my ticket out of condemnation. Psychosis seemed so real when the hallucinations told me they were demons. I put two and two together and logically figured if there were demons, then there had to be a God...a God who created and then banished them. I'm not sure whose story to believe, but knowing there are always three sides to any story, is it any wonder they are pissed. About four years ago, I wrote a fictional story, which in my opinion, is my greatest piece. I doubt I will ever write anything better. It's called, Heavens Above "Heavens Above"  and it's an extremely satirical poke at Christian ideology. Some might say making fun of God (and Jesus and the story behind the fall of Lucifer) is walking on thin ice, but at the time, I hoped that these deities (and one scapegoat) would see the funny side of how things are portrayed here on earth. My thought was if doctrine could evolve to suit the times, and scripture be interpreted to suit any agenda, then what harm can come by rewriting the story of heaven and earth in a way I thought was funny?Fast forward four years and I have demons visiting me, and my prayers for deliverance denied. I will be the first to admit there are places in my story where it could be seen as blasphemy. That was not my intention, and I think those who see it that way may be a little one-eyed, and dare I say, acting somewhat unambiguously. I'm not trying to defend the story. I'm sure some may find it absurd or even farcical (oh, I hope so), or like the few who have reviewed it, as brilliant. I don't think I have anything to fear because of the above-mentioned lack of faith that there is a God...well, perhaps I'm a little bit scared. Seeing demons on a daily basis will do that to you. I should probably mention that I kinda went over to the dark side for a while. My excuse is simple...if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. I ran a few scenarios past the alleged evil ones, and they gasped in shock. I even pleaded with them to take it higher up the chain of command, but I guess they were intimidated and denied my request. So, I became desperate and accused evil of becoming soft when they indicated (eyes going side to side most vigorously) that my ideas were too extreme. My only defence is I wanted to show the hierarchy that I was worthy of becoming more than just a slave who is condemned to burn for eternity. Ironically, my attempt at attaining a better position in hell (figuring I was condemned anyway) may be the final nail in my living forever in paradise coffin. That's if the whole Christian story of heaven and hell is true, but if not, then it sure as hell (excuse the pun) makes for good fodder in a literary sense. I wonder if an old lady who has lived a good life and committed little sin will end up in hell simply because she thought like a lot of people, that the likelihood of there being a God is not high. Yet, a pedophile for example, who destroys innocent lives and then at some point, shows remorse (perhaps on being told of his diagnosis), repents and is, or could be if you believe the church's take on getting more bums on pews, forgiven. Then he or she (if you believe the garb) is forgiven and ends up spending eternity in paradise. I wonder if one of his victims happens to commit suicide. Does anyone of faith want to venture if that person will be condemned for the sin of taking their own life? And if they do end up avoiding hell and going to heaven, what they might think of the decision to give the monster who was responsible for their misery, eternal life in paradise? Pondering faith is one of my favourite things to do. |
| It rained again this morning and I decided to forgo the gym. I only have a motorcycle for transport and can't justify getting it dirty on the wet roads. The upside...I went for another walk and again swam laps in the pool. Yesterday, when I left to go on my walk, I was in a fantastic mood. As usual, I wore earbuds and listened to music from one of my playlists on Spotify. I had the biggest smile on my face, and as I passed people (or they passed me) I looked at them, made eye contact and almost every one of them smiled back. This amazing thing continued for the entire hour I was out. When I got back, I felt very happy. Today, I wasn't in such a good mood. My neighbours began arguing at 1.00 am, and half an hour later, I yelled out for them to stop (not in those exact words but you get the picture). They stopped fighting and all went quiet. Unfortunately, I was so worked up by then that I didn't get to sleep for some time. I pictured them kissing and making up, whilst I lay there on my own, fuming at their performance. And so, as I walked today, I didn't feel like smiling and avoided looking at people. The difference between the two days is astounding. I look at it as a study conducted over two days with just one participant. It isn't going to give great data, but in any case, the results of the study are as follows. Allowing for a + or - 50% adjustment for mood differences, the findings are that smiles are highly contagious, and can be passed from one person to another, even at a distance. It was also found that in a majority of cases, negative vibes will reflect back with almost the same proficiency as a mirror. A long time ago, I learned how to be more assertive. When I first picked up the tools, I realised that compromise was a better way of conducting myself in the world. I no longer needed to bottle up my emotions until they popped like a cork in a frightening display of passive/aggressive behaviour. I thought this new way of conducting myself was to be my saving grace, but alas, it wasn't to be. Confrontation is a good thing, right? There are those who disagree with this theory. The way I see it, confrontation, rather than being feared, will bring issues out and into the light, so they can be discussed and a compromise found that suits both parties...or so I believed. There is a thing in Thailand called, 'saving face'. In my opinion, it is a cowardly way of avoiding hostilities by pretending that no issue exists. Then the parties can walk away and never speak to each other again, avoiding unnecessary conflict...but at what cost? When I applied my newfound skills to situations that came my way, things began to go awry. People I had been friends with for years stopped contacting me, I assume because I was seen as someone who was 'difficult'. Looking back, I suppose I was difficult because I wouldn't let things that annoyed me, or that I perceived as an injustice, go without saying something. As a friend, I couldn't help but try and make them see what they were saying or doing wasn't fair or was unacceptable behaviour...at least, to me. An example might be a friend who would speak to me about his relationship, and then bitch about his wife being lazy or ill-tempered or any one of a thousand other petty grievances he had with her on that particular day. As a friend, this is a tough situation to be in. The question was, should I just listen and nod my head, or say what was really on my mind? My way of dealing with that would have been to ask him why he was telling me and not her. And then I might point out that he isn't exactly the most understanding of people, and perhaps he should try and put himself in her position...especially when he goes out drinking with his mates most weekends and leaves her at home with the kids. No one wants to hear the truth, especially about themselves. They would rather focus on whoever is causing them grief and bitch about it to anyone who cares to listen. My reaction to their problems had both positive and negative effects. They soon stopped complaining to me about their spouses, bosses and friends, but they also stopped talking to me. Some might call that a win-win, but once there was nobody left, I began to wonder if being assertive was such a good thing to aspire to after all. When I got back from my walk today, the neighbour who was arguing with his Thai GF the night before was outside on his balcony. I only have four weeks to go before I vacate the premises. Hopefully, I will find a place where it isn't like living in a large sharehouse with thin walls separating each room. I tussled with the notion of whether it was worth saying something about the night before, and if not, avoiding a confrontation that probably wasn't worth having. But, old habits die hard, and when I saw him, I simply couldn't let it go. After my speech, he apologised, but I know they won't speak to me now unless it's unavoidable. Honestly, I wish I had had more people in my life who weren't afraid to confront me on my shortcomings. If I did, I would probably have more friends than I do. In my mind, if my neighbours are so ignorant that they thought they could argue loudly in the middle of the night (I suspect they had been drinking and didn't give a fuck about the noise they were making) and get away with it, then they aren't worth being friends with anyway. I'm glad I said something to him, just to dispel the myth that we should avoid losing face at all costs. I'm OK with being on my own and without many friends. Better that, than having lots of people who cannot bear to hear the truth about themselves, or tell it like it is to others. |
| I've been busting my ass training almost every day. And do you think I can lose a single kilo? Sure, I'm carrying a lot more muscle than I was before this 'quit drugs and get healthy' idea began. And here's the conundrum. The more I train, the hungrier I get...the more I eat the stronger I get...the stronger I get, the more muscle I carry and the more muscle I carry the more I eat. It's an endless cycle of good health combined with a strong body. Not a bad thing, but when I look in the mirror (and please don't get me started on bathroom scales), all I see are places where I want to be thinner. I'm almost sixty and should be happy with where I am at. It's nothing six months of intense callisthenics with a personal trainer can't fix. The only problem with that is I'm lazy. Don't get me wrong because I do train hard. Everyone at my gym must think I'm mute because while they stand around talking shit, I'm knocking out sets in quick succession. I wish I could claim it's because I'm hardcore, but the reality is that the less time I spend in the gym, the happier I am. Confession time...I am not a gym junkie. I just want the results. If only there was a pill I could take instead of spending three hours a week sweating my ass off watching people lifting way heavier than they should by sacrificing form. It's all I can do not to coach them on proper technique. That would not only upset their apple carts (and alienate even more people) but would mean spending more time in the weights room than I already do. I had some dramas last night and didn't sleep well. Then, at around 4.30 am, it began to rain. It didn't stop raining until mid-morning. I decided not to go to the gym and surprisingly, didn't beat myself up too much, thinking that there was always tomorrow. I'm carrying a few niggling injuries anyway and thought the extra day off would give me more time to recover. A physio would recommend six weeks off weights altogether, to allow the injuries to properly heal. But I know from experience that once I went back, the same injuries would return. So, I just train through the pain. Lucky for me I have an unlimited supply of a non-addictive, placebo analgesic. My prescriber/dealer's name is Angel, and all it will cost me for her services is my soul once I'm dead. There are other benefits to having my own personal in-house demon, but a gentleman never kisses and tells. The rain cleared this afternoon, so to make up for not doing weights in the morning, I went for a walk (and got a haircut while I was out) and when I got back, I swam laps (so much for giving the injuries a break). At the pool, there was a young Russian couple with their two-year-old daughter. Having had daughters myself, I have a real thing for girls, and she was as cute as they come. I said hi, and began my first set. Then, as I rested, I looked at the cutie and smiled. I saw her earlier in the day with her dad catching butterflies with a net, so to break the ice, I asked her if she had caught any. Kids are so easy to befriend, and it truly is a shame they have to grow up. Then, once it appeared the parents were ready to go, and she didn't want to leave, I pretended to be a crocodile. At first, she got out of the water quick smart. But my plan backfired and the crocodile game became fun. Eventually, they got her out of the water and the most beautiful thing happened. She was all wrapped up in a towel being carried by her father when she looked at me and blew kisses...my heart melted and I realised I had finally found a friend. |
| In literature as in love, we are astonished at what is chosen by others...Andre Maurois. A happy marriage is a long conversation which always seems too short...Andre Maurois. If you want the last word in an argument, tell him, "Perhaps you are right."...Winston Churchill. The simplest acts of kindness are by far more powerful than a thousand heads bowed in prayer...Gandhi. Blushing is the most peculiar and most human of all expressions...Charles Darwin. If youth knew...if age could...Sigmund Freud. It's easy to fall in love. The hard part is finding someone to catch you...Bertrand Russell. The self-assured believer is a greater sinner in the eyes of God, than the troubled disbeliever...Soren Kierkegaard. The wound is the place where the light enters you...Rumi. We must first taste the bitterness of defeat before we can relish the sweet taste of success...Todd Perlmutter. We are significantly insignificant...Todd Perlmutter. They are not having fun. I can't have fun if they don't. If I can get them to have fun, then I can have fun with them. Getting them to have fun is not fun, it is hard work...R.D Laing. We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started...and know the place for the first time...T.S Elliott. I spent a lot of money on booze, birds and fast cars...the rest I squandered...George Best. People are fickle, but the spirit of expression is not...and compromise serves neither party well...Me. Change is inevitable. But the direction of those changes starts with us, the individuals in every community...and not with the masses, who we are so eager to blame for it all being so wrong...Me. Even the strongest love needs reassurance, just as the strongest tree needs the rain...without which it withers and eventually dies...Me. In life, it is easy to find really interesting people, but hard to find people who are really interested...Me. When we see family and friends having issues, the causes of those issues are obvious to us...and the irony is, they feel exactly the same way...Me. Questions light the path, knowledge shows the way. Answers are the destination, but without truth, you will find yourself in the wrong place...Me. Pain is God's way of reminding us that we are still alive...Me. |
| It's been a long time since I was intimate with a woman...November of 2016 to be exact. I could easily 'fix' the problem if I thought it would be everything I hoped for, but I was never the type to do one-night stands. In my early twenties, I paid a prostitute to see what it was like, and after that, I knew I would never do it again. I'm craving intimacy, but not necessarily sex. And dreaming of someone who craves me. A companion for life and not just for a night. I must admit, I'm beginning to lose faith. Not just in finding love, but in God. I've spent the last few months praying for help. To overcome these hallucinations...to meet someone and say the right things at the right moments and be everything she had hoped for. I wonder if I've been forsaken...or if there is a God at all and my prayers were wasted. I realise feeling sorry for myself isn't going to help my situation, and that there is much I should be grateful for. But, loneliness is like a snowball...the longer it goes on, the more it grows, until it becomes all-encompassing. Denying it is futile. Desperation is obvious and gives off a vibe, no matter how well it is hidden. It shines like a beacon, warning all who approach to stay clear. As always, expectations bring disappointment. I remember after separating from my wife, I couldn't wait to be treated for HepC. In my mind, no one would want to be with me. I carried a contagious virus, and no matter how low the risk of transmission was, I couldn't bring myself to do that to someone. The first attempt at treatment failed, but I was told new and better drugs would be available in the coming months. A year later, I was treated with an antiviral drug called Harvoni, and three months later, my viral load was so low that it was undetectable. I had to wait a year before getting the final all-clear, but after that, I thought everything in life would change. I no longer had a virus that might one day kill me, and please don't get me wrong, I was happy and thankful I had received treatment. But, it wasn't like I walked around wearing a badge advising people of my status, so the changes I had hoped for never came. I still carry HepC antibodies, but cannot infect others. If I get a blood test, I get them to look for viral load, otherwise, because of the antibodies, I show up as positive. Before receiving treatment, it was shame that held me back. Then, once I was cured, I realised it wasn't just shame, but fear that caused me to withdraw from the dating pool. Then I became a full-time carer for my parents, and the final nail in my coffin was addiction. Over time, meth became my lover, and as long as I kept using, I didn't miss having romantic love at all. I'm pretty sure when it comes to dating, I'll be like a fish out of water. They say you never forget how to ride a bike, and if the stars and planets align and a woman falls from heaven right into my lap, I will be OK. But, the reality and chances of that happening are low. My head has taken over from my heart and created a separate narrative on the what-ifs of falling in love. My divorce was bitter and I lost everything that mattered to me. And even though that was a long time ago, I'm still fearful of going down that path again. So, the real question is, am I ready to risk it all again? My heart says yes, but my mind says, hell no...that I am better off continuing to go it alone. Things aren't bad, but I cannot help but think they could be better. If only I could do casual sex and feel satisfied. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on who you ask), that's not an option for me. I'm completely off the Thai girlfriend thing. I do have priorities...things I need to take care of before I die, and they will keep me busy while I wait for Ms Right to fall from the sky and into my loving arms. |
| Thailand is a strange but wonderful place to live. As mentioned in a previous post, I love to observe people in all their weirdness. When I'm in Australia, most people appear to me to be 'normal'. But, when I'm visiting another country, 'normal' is no longer a relevant way to describe people. So now it is me who has become the abnormal one. In the past, I've referred to the fact that Thai people have an aversion to wearing motorcycle helmets. I would estimate that only around 20% of locals could be bothered to take this simple precaution, that in the event of a collision, may save their life or prevent a serious head injury...but why? I have a few theories... throughout history, people have to be dragged kicking and screaming towards change. Trying to force people to wear helmets is seen in many places, not as a good way to stay alive, but as an infringement of their civil rights. They say, "Helmets don't save lives or prevent head injuries!" Statistics say, "Yes, they do." They say, "I'm a rebel...why do you think I ride a motorcycle in the first place?" I say, "Is this a midlife crisis thing or do you subconsciously want to die before you get too old to fuck?" There are many good reasons to ride a motorcycle, but we all know the head is extremely vulnerable in an accident, and this should cause even the most intelligence-challenged males of our species to take note. The bottom line is that looking cool is no longer relevant when presenting to an ICU with a head injury. Another reason I believe Thais don't wear helmets is because Farangs DO have to wear them. This helps separate them from us, and is kind of like saying, "HAHA". There are some Farangs who don't wear helmets, which I assume is their way of showing the locals that they are just as cool. I think anyone who has driven on Thailand's roads would know there are no rules, but in the event of an accident between a Farang and a local, it will always be the Farang's fault. I need to be careful because I am treading on thin ice here, but I've noticed that Thais like to present themselves (unless they are working in labour-type jobs) in the best possible light. Fashion is big (all school kids look like they have been starched and ironed before school) and a helmet might mess up one's hair. Having a motorcycle licence is limited to being a Farang thing. I see many young school-age kids getting around on scooters (with no helmets, of course). I've seen Grandma riding a scooter with up to three kids doing the after-school pick-up...and again, no helmets on any of them. Even parents...a father and mother with two siblings and a baby. It beggars belief. The following comments are written in a general sense. The men in Thailand are softly spoken and don't normally have a lot to say. Thai women, however, talk a lot...and they don't just talk a lot, but are like fog horns. I would say it's attention-seeking. Most Thai men smoke cigarettes, but in the last six months I have been here, I have seen no Thai women smoking. Thais don't particularly like foreigners, and I can see their point of view. But I think they fail to realise that if every foreign national left the country tomorrow, they wouldn't like the situation they would find themselves in. It's very much a love-hate relationship for both parties. It's symbiotic, where we come to Thailand to take advantage of the lower cost of living and the many other benefits of being here. But without us, their economy would collapse and the rate of poverty would increase exponentially. Politics in Australia is SO boring, and it makes little difference to the average citizen which of the two parties gets into power. The upcoming American election has descended into a game of name-calling, and in my opinion, the country that is looked upon as the leader of the West could do much better. And considering just how close it's going to be, makes me fearful of what will happen no matter who wins. But politics in Thailand is something else altogether. Here, they change political leadership and policy as often as they change their underwear. Although it seems a bit off that the recently fired Prime Minister was replaced by his daughter. No conflict of interest there, I'm sure. |
| Before I write this post, I want to give a heads-up about a series playing on Netflix called, Love, Death + Robots. It's advertised as animated horror...but is so much more than that. I binge-watched the first instalment, and when I got to the last episode, Jibaro, I was hooked. There is no connection (bar two episodes) between the stories, and even if animation and/or horror are not your thing, please, if you have Netflix, just watch Jibaro, and prepare to have your mind blown. I can honestly say it is one of the most moving and beautiful pieces of cinematography I have ever seen, and although I haven't as yet finished the three-part series, I had to go back and rewatch Jibaro...and it won't be the last time I do. The producers enlisted ballet dancers and filmed them in suits, tracking their movements which were then reproduced in life-like animation. The story is both beautiful and tragic and is worthy of watching. Life in Thailand continues to get better, although I'm still not ready to fully integrate myself. In many ways, fear is restricting me from going out and finding new friendships. I'm afraid that if I do, there will be expectations, and disappointment will surely follow. I feel that I am still too vulnerable to risk falling backwards in my mental state. Isn't it typical that life throws us new challenges once the previous ones are solved? The difference between the type of fear I had when I was using meth, and the fear I have now, is, as you would expect, incomparable. I'm not afraid of relapse or being on my own. The reasons why I am still alone are much more positive than they were before I transitioned to sobriety. There isn't one thing I can think of that was better before coming to Thailand, despite my continuing to display symptoms of psychosis. Even though the intensity of the hallucinations remains the same, especially at night when I am tired (which is an obvious trigger), their nature has changed, to the point where I now enjoy their company. They (the hallucinations) are far less persecutory, and even though some nights there are far more of them to deal with than others, overall, they are more easily controlled...or should I say, negotiated with. I think this easing of hostilities has to do with my decision to have less contact with them during the day. The hallucinations have always been more active at night, and it is whilst I meditate before going to bed that we interact the most. One at a time they appear in my field of vision, drifting closer towards me. Then, after a brief interaction, they slowly move away. It's like they are saying hello before I go to sleep and they begin their nocturnal shenanigans. Once upon a time, back when I was using meth, the thought of these entities brought dread and terror. And even when I wasn't coming down, they were typically unpleasant. Now, I go to bed with no anxiety, and once we go through the ritual of greetings, I lay down, say goodnight to Angel, who is always closest to me on my left, and pretty quickly fall asleep. Meditation has had a profound effect on my psyche, and even though this may sound highly delusional, I believe it has also had a positive effect on the entities. What affects me affects them. It stands to reason that if I have manifested these beings by way of intense thought (to cure loneliness and my desire for love) or by unknowingly conjuring them in some accidental ritual, my mind created them. And so, be they hallucinations or otherwise, they are in some way likely to be extensions of me. It's no longer important to me if Angel is real or not, and so long as she/they don't cause too much disruption to my life, I am now more focused on the positives that come from having psychosis. If I could choose, I would still remove them from my life. I'm completely honest with Angel about this. There is something quite strange that happens in my conversations with Angel. When I am in the process of asking a series of questions, she answers my enquiries a second or two before I have completed the sentence. There is something quite liberating in the knowledge that I can keep no secrets from this being. It is akin to lying to myself. Because of this, I can express my feelings knowing there are no doubts about my honesty and integrity. Imagine if all relationships were like this. I used to think the ability to read others' minds would be a nightmare, but only if the minds being read are not aware of it. But, now I know that there are no secrets that can be kept, it's cathartic. |
| An edited piece I wrote, hoping it might help others make better choices. Over the many years I was using drugs, I learned so much about the hobby we love. A hobby of such importance that we would gladly die for. When I first began using drugs, I was 'just' a recreational user. There was no harm in being young and experimenting, was there? Of course, I didn't know then what I know now...that the most important person you must learn to lie to is yourself. It is imperative to believe you can stop whenever you choose...that you control the drug, but the drug does not control you. Lying to friends, family and those who love you the most should remain secondary because it's only a matter of time before they become aware of your newfound hobby. They will notice the inevitable changes in you. Things such as weight loss, skin becoming pale and pasty and Tuesday irritability...which will soon also include Wednesday. The late nights and early mornings. The strangers appearing and then quickly disappearing at all hours of day and night. The inevitable crashes that will see you in bed for days, after the ever-increasing binges become the norm (and absolutely necessary). All part of the fun of learning how to become a better and more wiser junkie. And this is where my years of experience can benefit you. I considered myself the poster boy for how a functioning junkie should look, sound and act like. I was proud of my ability to hide my habit from everyone who mattered. I had all these cool new friends, who I could truly depend upon...to steal from me if I looked away for a few seconds, rip me off and use me to gain free drugs, yet never pay me back. People who left me as soon as I became dejected because of how they were treating me. Oh, the joy...good times indeed. Of course, if you are to become the best junkie you can be, you need priorities. And they are, get drugs, use drugs and get more drugs. Then continue this pattern until something drastic happens (and I stake my reputation on the fact that it will). A rookie mistake I saw many young up-and-comers make, was allowing their income to drop. The excuses (and you will need plenty of those) were because of workplace drug testing or not feeling like doing the job anymore because, let's face it, that time could be better spent getting and using drugs. But then reality (which is a very real and dangerous side effect caused by not taking drugs) hits home when your friendly neighbourhood dealer stops your line of credit and either he or one of his henchmen will break your arms if not paid by Friday. And so, desperate times call for desperate measures. Breaking and entering is, after all, only stealing from the rich and giving to the poor (the poor dealer, who is always happy to exchange the goods for small quantities of heavily cut drugs). It is virtually a victimless crime, except for the property owners feeling like they have been violated, their insurance premiums skyrocketing and having to replace their toothbrushes. And from an addict's point of view, it's a win-win situation for all concerned. I discovered early on in my career that I was handicapped with ethics and morals. These disabilities prevented me from going down that well-worn path. So, much to my dismay, I faced the reality that drugs didn't come for free, and a job was an essential part of the success I so desperately sought. The silver lining was that not using drugs during the week (due to the fact that I had to work)) made the weekends more fun. Another bonus was this five-off and two-on routine caused my tolerance levels to stabilise. Sure, I took a lot of Mondays off, where I would find myself still high on Sunday night and not having slept since Friday morning; making the obligatory Monday morning call to the boss another essential skill. But, I was weak back then, becoming more hardened as time went by...and time went by very quickly indeed. As I got older, my drug habit evolved along with me, as will your own. Becoming like an old friend who is difficult to say goodbye to. And not many friends stuck by me like drugs did. Of course, there is always a price to pay in any relationship, and a relationship with drugs comes at a very high price indeed. The question is, are you willing to pay that price? Especially when you can and will receive your consequences on a buy now, pay later scheme. But, make sure you read the fine print because once the time comes to pay, you will find that regret is of no value whatsoever. You may detect a tinge of melancholy in my words, but I am trying my best to tone this down. The main problem you will find (as I am now) is there is no escaping your past. To give you some context, here are some examples of my regrets, so you might look back one day and compare. Abandoned by my children and almost every friend I've ever had. The hundreds of thousands of dollars I gave to dealers. My physical and mental health, which are now demonstrating to me their own opinion of my choices. Self-esteem and self-respect lost long ago. Knowing what a fool I was, and yet, I was unable to learn from my experience and change into someone wiser and more grounded. I could go on, but I'm sure you have better things to do. But, if you have taken the time to read this, at the very least, think about why you do drugs...and what, instead of slowly killing yourself, you can do now, so one day you won't wake up and feel compelled to write a story like this...hoping that someone like you or I will read it, and not go down the path we have chosen for ourselves. |
| After getting divorced in 2015, I met a girl online and we quickly 'fell in love'. We spoke for many months before I decided to travel to the US so we could finally meet and plan our future. Upon arrival in Reno, Nevada, Cathy met me at the airport and the moment we hugged, I felt sick. I knew in that instant I was never going to be in love with this girl. She was beautiful and we got along well, but the brain does not dictate to the heart. It was chemistry...or a lack thereof that determined everything once I 'smelled' the stranger who I thought I knew so well. I tried so hard to force myself to love Cathy, but after a week of smiling and denying anything was wrong, and with another two weeks until I was to return to Australia, I made the decision to fake it as best I could. Apparently, I wasn't very convincing, but we made the best of the situation. I can honestly say that despite the obvious, I had a great holiday. When the time came for me to leave, I kissed her, knowing that I would never see her again. Once I arrived back in Australia, I told Cathy the truth. At first, things were OK between us. I hoped we could at least salvage a friendship, but as the weeks went by, things began to turn. It appeared to me that the bitterness of loss was rearing its ugly head. Cathy started texting me when she had been drinking, and I made the call to stop speaking with her. I felt terrible about what had happened. I was naive and thought I was in love with her when nothing could have been further from the truth. I absolutely did love her, but loving someone and being in love with them are two completely different states of being. I hurt someone I truly cared about and I swore I would never fall in love again until I had met them in person. Cathy and I flew from Reno to Las Vegas for the weekend. I will never forget the extremes I saw. Vegas is a great place to visit, and I mean no offence when I say that I wouldn't want to live there. Obviously, I didn't get to see much of the real America, and if I had had more time to explore, my view would likely change. After the Port Arthur Massacre, in Tasmania in 1996, the Australian Government made gun ownership illegal for the general public. All automatic and semiautomatic, pump and lever action rifles were completely banned. Some farmers could own bolt action rifles, and police and security guards (and criminals, who fortunately mostly shoot each other) were allowed handguns and semiautomatic rifles. No matter your opinion on this matter, the stats do not lie, and since then there have been very few mass shootings recorded in our country. Ironically, I love guns and admit that when the decision was made to buy back all firearms from the public, I was outraged. One person's decision to murder thirty-five innocent men, women and children (not to mention the scores of people who were wounded), affected everyone in the country. At first, we were horrified that so many were dead, and for no logical reason. And then, because of his actions, we were all punished by losing our right to own firearms...at least, that's how I saw it then. But, when I was visiting the US, I contacted a guy who organised shoots out in the Nevada Dessert. I paid US$300 to fire ten guns of my choice. Cathy and I had an amazing afternoon and it remains one of the highlights of my trip. There were many other things about America that I enjoyed. Driving on the right-hand side of the road was a blast once I got used to it. Another highlight was when I got to spend Thanksgiving with Cathy and her family. One day, it had been snowing heavily and we drove from Reno to South Lake, Tahoe, driving all the way around the lake. At one point, we stopped so I could build a snowman. I have only seen snow on a few occasions during my life, and to me, it was such an amazing experience. I can say with all honesty that as much as I was sorry for hurting Cathy, I certainly do not regret going to visit her. I learned a valuable lesson and got to spend three weeks in a country that has so much in common with Australia, and yet, is so very different. |
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