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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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| Before my life became more stable, I didn't realise how hard it could be to write regularly on a blog. When I was using meth, there was no shortage of dramas and bad things to whine about. And even when things were OK, I was usually so bored that I had plenty of time to think of material to post about. Since getting back from Thap Sakae, nothing much has been happening—at least, nothing I feel is worth telling people about. I haven't written a static item in a long time, and I do worry sometimes that my creative self has checked out forever. The consolation is that I have a pretty substantial backlog of work, and what I tend to do on days I lack imagination is read and edit items on my port. As I read some of these old works, I sometimes wonder where my head was at (compared to now), and on the flip side, where some of the ideas and words came from. I read that when Robert Plant penned the words to Stairway to Heaven, he was in a trance-like state (or his hand moved involuntarily). I can attest to something similar happening in at least two of my poems. As I search through my port, there are some titles I see and have no idea what they are about...at least until I read them. So in today's post, instead of telling you what Nada cooked for lunch or boring you with details of our daily routine, I thought I would share some tips I use on WdC that may make a difference to your experience. Rereading and editing is an almost continuous thing I do. The maintenance crew who paint the Sydney Harbour Bridge start at one end and once they are finished, start again from the other side. Not only does continuous editing improve the quality of your work, but each time you do, it generates more reads by reposting the item on the, 'BY ONLINE AUTHORS' page. I always reply to anyone kind enough to review my work. Not only is it good manners, but it encourages further reviews by that person and helps create friendships within the site. Take negative comments/reviews with a pinch of salt. If I changed everything in my work that others had recommended, there would be little left of my original story. Stick to your guns (other than technical issues). Thank those who share their thoughts and opinions on your work, but don't allow their ideas to become your story. In the same vein...when reviewing, be honest about how the story made you feel without stating how you would have done it differently. Set a realistic rating. Don't just hand out five stars willy-nilly because it leaves little room for when you read something that truly inspires you. Don't take the entering of competitions too seriously. When we put our hearts and souls into our work, the stories become like children to us...and we all know how difficult it can be to see our kids lose. And here's the thing...I don't voluntarily enter competitions because, in my opinion, the judging of art is so subjective. Add to that the politics...intentional or unintentional, and in my opinion, entering competitions is not worth the headfuck it creates. Leave arguments to do with politics and religion to those who enjoy banging their heads against walls. That doesn't mean endless conversations about the weather. There are plenty of subjects that don't push buttons yet encourage intellectual dialogue. Be kind to people, especially those we disagree with...as hard as that is, at times, to do. |
| The best thing about going away for a holiday, in my opinion, is getting back home afterwards. Don't get me wrong, we had a really nice time at Sirarun Resort, Thap Sakae. The rooms were a little old and in need of refurbishment, but the staff were friendly and the grounds lush. The weather wasn't the best, with three days of gale-force winds that made the normally emerald-green seawater murky. I did a Google review (I'm a Google Local Guide with one hundred forty-nine contributions) and despite a few issues, I gave them four stars. It's funny how after just eight months of living in Thailand, I'm beginning to look at prices differently. When I first arrived, I'd simply convert Thai baht to Australian dollars and marvel at how much cheaper things were. Nowadays, I'm more savvy about what I end up paying, and having a girlfriend who has spent a lifetime living in poverty has brought a new perspective on how I spend my money. Sirarun Resort is fairly isolated and quiet. It's located around eight kilometres from a little gem called Ban Krut. The town has lots of small restaurants all along the road opposite the beach that serve cheap, high-quality food. One night we ate seafood and the next we went to a different restaurant and had Pad Thai. We spent under 400 baht for four meals, including drinks. One day we explored the coast heading south from Ban Krut...riding my motorcycle slowly along the beach road. There were plenty of housing blocks for sale, but unfortunately, I can't buy land here in Thailand. For a brief moment, I flirted with the idea of marrying Nada and doing the whole 'her owning the land and me the house' thing, but we haven't been together long enough for that. It would be nice to build a small two-bedroom cottage somewhere along that stretch of beach, but the reality is rent is so cheap that it makes no sense to buy a home. On the way back to Hua Hin, we took a detour via Sam Roi Yot National Park. The scenery is normally spectacular, with huge sheer cliffs rising right next to the road. Unfortunately, at this time of year, there is a lot of smoke in the air, and the views of the mountains are obscured. I noticed a lot of big, adventure bikes like mine touring around the area. We are planning on returning to Ban Krut sometime soon, where hopefully, we will get better weather. |
| Nada isn't feeling well today. She has her period and is suffering because of it. When we moved in three months ago, I bought some furniture, including a table and four timber chairs. This morning, when I sat down to eat breakfast, the chair slowly crumpled under me. I ended up on the floor with broken bits of the chair all around me. Nada was in a dither, but I wasn't hurt. I will be asking the place where we purchased it for a replacement. The visit from my friend isn't going well. We clashed over politics on the first day (he considers Trump to be the best person to lead the free world and I do not). Also, I didn't realise that he smokes, and although he doesn't smoke inside, we can still smell it whenever he does. We agreed to disagree about politics and have dropped the subject, but just knowing his views parrot those of the president-elect has changed the way I think about him. He's been here two days, and so far, hasn't offered any show of appreciation. I get that he is travelling on a budget, but a simple offer to buy us dinner (that would cost a few hundred baht) one night would be nice. Staying with us has saved him quite a lot in accommodation expenses. We have also provided him with three meals a day. I'm trying not to be mean and it's not about the cost. We leave for our holiday on Sunday and he can stay till then. He has just informed me that he's quitting smoking today. Good for him (and for us), but if I detect one hint of anger over the next two days due to his withdrawals, he'll be looking for new accommodation faster than you can say, "Please, leave." I accept that the situation with my friend is my fault. I didn't ask enough questions before I told him he could stay, so I would have had a better idea of what I was getting us into. It's not the end of the world. He isn't a bad person and it isn't just about him. We have had our routine broken, and I will talk to Nada once he is gone about whether we should allow visitors to stay in the future. I know if it was me, I would want my own space when travelling. I realise everyone has different budgets but accommodation is pretty cheap here in Thailand, and staying in someone else's home, even for short periods, can present issues. |
| My friend, Rob, who I haven't seen in twenty years, arrives tonight. He's travelling by bus from Pattaya...a seven-hour journey. No doubt he'll be tired by the time he gets here. I'll pick him up on my motorbike and he will stay with us for a few days. I'm looking forward to having an Australian around to talk to. Nada is busy making sure the house is clean (it always is anyway) and the room Rob is staying in has towels and soap in the shower. I must admit that we are both a little nervous. We haven't had anyone stay before, and although I know things will be OK, it's still a little nerve-racking having a guest. When I spoke to Rob last week, I made sure to mention how long we would accommodate him (three nights). I wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say, but at least he knows before he arrives...rather than letting it become the elephant in the room later in the week. A few days ago, as we left for our afternoon walk, a lady, who just happens to be from Australia, came past our house pushing a cart/stroller. Inside was a large dog, and after speaking with her for a few minutes, I learned that the poor dog had run onto the road three months earlier and had been hit by a car. He suffered major damage to his spine and as a result, is a paraplegic. He has no feeling in his back legs, and if it were me, I would have had him put down. The lady looked exhausted. Her dog needs to wear nappies, and as we spoke, he was constantly trying to pull the nappy off with his teeth. Our weight loss journey continues and Nada is looking great. A few days ago, she weighed 56.6kg (125 lbs). Of course, she wasn't happy and wants to lose more. Her goal is to get down to 55kg. I'm not as strict with my diet as she is, although I can feel the weight coming off each time I button up my pants. I'm not doing weights at the moment, but that might change in the coming months. Walking every day, combined with the change in diet, is working well enough for me. Last night, I booked three nights at a 4-star resort in Thap Sakae, in Prachup Khiri Khan. We leave on Sunday. It's two and a half hours by motorbike south of Hua Hin. The pics show white sandy beaches and emerald green water, and we are both looking forward to getting away for a few days. |
| We were at the store today buying a few groceries and the song, Jingle Bells was playing over the loudspeaker. I felt sorry for the staff and remarked to Nada that the song would be stuck in their heads every night. It was worth the trip though (despite the crowd) because my favourite breakfast cereal (which can be hard to get at times) was in stock. There were six boxes left, so I bought the lot. I know that isn't very Christmasy of me, but I'm willing to do pretty much anything, including being selfish, to procure my cereal. I'm going to state what I'm sure many of you feel, but are not willing to say...I hate Christmas. And it's not just the carols, the madness and the commercialism that have me feeling this way. There's also this expectation that things will be somehow different over the holidays...and then the disappointment when everything remains the same (other than hangovers, and once it's all done, a lot less money in the bank). For the past few years, I've been slowly opting out. While my parents were alive, I made an effort to attend family gatherings. But since they are both now gone (and the fact that I am living overseas), Christmas this year will be a very quiet affair. Nada and I will go out on NYE to watch the fireworks on the beach in Hua Hin, and that will be the holiday celebrations over for this year. I just asked Nada what she wants for Christmas. Of course, she said she didn't know, so I offered her what every good Thai girl wants for Christmas...cold hard cash (to the tune of one thousand baht). Despite her efforts to hide her glee, her eyes lit up and she agreed that would be a lovely present. Then, I dropped the question that she never saw coming, "So, what are you going to get me for Christmas, Nada?" At first, she looked a little confused, so I helped her out by telling her what I wanted, "One thousand baht." She laughed because she thought that I was joking. But, the truth is we haven't been together long enough for her to understand that Christmas is one subject I never joke about. Perhaps the worst thing about Christmas is that it isn't over in just one day. It begins too early (mid-November) and goes on way too long for my liking. And the best thing about Christmas is at least it's over before the new year begins. Sure, there are other 'benefits' to holding onto an outdated celebration (that isn't even mentioned in the bible as the birthdate of the alleged son of God). It's a great time to lie to children and extort a week or two of good behaviour from the little lovelies by threatening that Santa Claus only gives presents to well-behaved kids. And for the adults (and I use that term loosely) it's a great excuse to drink and eat too much. The drinking, at least at my relative's houses, did not include the partners (usually the wives) because they almost always drew the short straw and were again designated drivers that year. And we all know that statistically, there are more suicides at Christmas than at any other time of year. I used to get depressed around Christmas, but now there are no expectations for me to attend family gatherings, I feel a lot better about the whole thing. The pressure to smile and laugh with my relatives, who would slowly get pissed throughout the afternoon, is no more...and for that, I say, "Hallelujah!" Happy holidays everyone. |
| It's funny how things change, yet stay the same. Boredom used to be my worst enemy, but now, it has become my best friend. Saturday night was always a hard night to face sober. This fact stems from the very beginning of my journey into addiction when my friends and I would take drugs and go out to raves (or clubs). Then, during the night and early into the morning, we would take more drugs, before heading home as the sun rose. And as time went by, despite having to work Mondays, I would continue taking drugs even after I got home. Nowadays, Saturday night doesn't trigger me quite as much, and as I sit here writing this post, I feel pretty content that that part of my life is in my past. I cannot afford, however, to think that just because I am no longer hooked on meth, that I don't still have a problem with it. The truth is that I am still very much addicted, and I still get that familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever my mind drifts off to remember 'the good old days'. It wasn't just the rush of dopamine that I loved when I ingested meth. From the moment I picked up my phone to call my dealer, to the drive to score (and even more so, the drive home, with the baggie of crystal safely secured on my person and knowing what was coming) where I was under the influence of another drug...adrenalin. Adrenalin was the precursor to every relapse I ever had. There are as many triggers/excuses as there are junkies. For some, it's music, and once upon a time, music was a trigger for me. Being bored, happy or sad, broke or wealthy, craving or coming off a long abstinence. It never mattered if it was a chance meeting with an old drug buddy or a deliberately planned 'big one'. Drugs (and the dealers who sell them) don't care why we need them, only that we do. I know that unless I took the action I did...sell everything and move to another country, I would, if I survived, still be in the cycle of using meth until I could no longer deal with the outcome of psychosis. Then going to the hospital to get Valium so I could finally get some sleep. And later, once the withdrawals had passed, I would lie to myself (and anyone who would listen), swearing I would never touch meth again. And within three months, relapse...all on a downward cycle towards a certain death. These 'demons', who arrived in the latter and most dangerous phase of my drug use, I cannot help but think were a manifestation of my sick mind doing the only thing possible to save my life. The TV show, Scared Straight, is not an exaggeration of what happened to me during those last few months before I packed my bags and left for Thailand. I believe if not for the hallucinations terrifying me whenever I was coming down, I would be dead now. So, even though I still see and communicate with my imaginary 'friends' (they hate it when I call them friends, but I believe, understand my appreciation), my life is a lot less dramatic now. And even though there are times when life is boring, it's a hell of a lot better than it was before. |
| I have always harboured a secret desire...to be a woman. Of course, in this 'fantasy' gender swap, I still have a male brain and don't suffer oppression, sexual assault, lower wages or deal with a menstrual cycle once a month. For me, it was all about the sex. Watching porn confirmed what I had learned from my own sex life...that women have far and away more pleasure than men during sex. Now, I realise that isn't always the case...that there can be factors limiting this phenomenon. But overall, from what I have seen, if (and I mean IF) we, the partners of said women, do everything right in the lead-up, during and even after the fact (the latter because a woman's memory is just as good as a man's), then we may not be as welcome next time we come knocking on her door. There is a good reason, from nature's point of view, why women are more sexually athletic (for lack of a better description) than men. And it makes sense that God (or whoever/whatever designed us) would grant women the edge in at least some aspects of being human. Reading maps, reverse parking and making quick decisions aside, watching (and hearing) my lover go to heights in the bedroom I can only dream of, reinforces this envious desire for more than my own 'kinda OK' orgasm. But, throw in childbirth, and not just the discomfort, but the emotional rollercoaster that is having a period (and the rest of it...which is a list so long that no woman wants to be reminded about it anyway) and once my feet hit the floor and reality punches me in the face, I am glad I was born a male. This 'fantasy' I have isn't just sexual. Since early childhood, I've had compassion and empathy for women. Shit, I remember times when I was shocked to see women themselves being cruel and violent (usually to do with men) towards their own gender...and trying to figure out why they would act that way. Over the years, my attitude towards my partner's menstrual cycle has changed (depending on the circumstances presented). When I was so young and immature that I took no responsibility for birth control and my girlfriend would tell me she had her period, it was a relief. Then later, once I was old enough to know better (although it still wasn't my job to remember to take the contraception pill), I had to learn to negotiate the differences in my partner's moods when 'that time of the month' came around. One partner in particular had such bad cramps leading up to her period, that I must admit my empathetic nature packed its bags and left. I questioned if her anger and even on occasion, abuse, wasn't at all to do with her period. And for many years, whenever I sensed she was premenstrual, fear took over my life. Early this morning, Nada reached over and touched my skin...and her palm was hot. After we woke up, I told Nada how much I loved her and what she meant to me. She broke down in tears, and that's when I knew she would soon get her period. I held her for a while, before making her laugh and getting her a tissue. She has taken paracetamol and is now in bed. Last month, at this same time, she slept most of the day. Then over the next two nights, she had trouble sleeping. I think I will wake her up soon so that she might return to normal sleep patterns faster than she did last month. I know I'm only guessing about what to do, and that the best thing to do is to be kind until things return to normal. |
| The low season had just begun when I arrived in Thailand in April 2024. And now that it is high season again, I have experienced my first taste of change. Both seasons have their good and bad points. The weather is much cooler now, and we no longer need to run the aircon at night (although we still use a fan). The days are breezy, which blows the smoke from the farmer's burn-off, away. I'm guessing that because it isn't so hot, people seem to be more pleasant...although this could stem from my own happiness reflecting back at me from others. We went out to a restaurant last week in central Hua Hin and I couldn't believe the number of foreigners I was seeing. In one Soi (street), I saw more Farangs than Thais. I must admit that it made me feel a little uncomfortable. The low season made me feel more special/individual because there are far fewer of us Farangs around. Prices too, have risen, although things are still very cheap compared to Australia. I don't mind the heat because I am from Brisbane, Queensland, and it's a subtropical city. So, although I haven't yet experienced high season in its entirety, I'm looking forward to low season coming around again. I have a friend who is currently staying in Pattaya. I haven't seen him in a long time, and hopefully, we will be catching up on the weekend. He is a global traveller, and when I asked him what his long-term plans were, he laughed and said he had none. I offered to pick him up from the bus when he arrived, however, I was concerned about not being able to carry his luggage on my motorbike. I asked him to send a pic of his bags and when he did, I knew I would not have a problem. It's hard to imagine how anyone could live for months at a time out of a backpack and a shoulder bag. I'm slowly getting my sugar addiction under control by weaning myself off the sweet substance. Sugar is in almost every packaged foodstuff we eat, and adding even more refined sugar to my diet simply wasn't working out for me (or my waistline). In only a month, my pants are easier to do up and I feel better overall. I've noticed that the last few times we have been to a restaurant, in the morning, my throat feels weird. Then, when I brush my teeth, I cough up phlegm. I'm also more thirsty than normal, and my guess is the restaurants are cooking with monosodium glutamate. That got me thinking about my next dietary challenge...eating less salt. Lucky for me my girlfriend loves to cook (although she too loves to add salt) and we will be eating at home a lot more now. |
| Nada has a nickname for me...Mr Diabetes. Forget about meth addiction because an easier-to-procure, more sinister substance has taken over my life...sugar. I didn't realise just how addicted to sugar I am until today. I've been cutting back on sugar over the last few weeks and the cravings have been moderate. Then today, as Nada and I arrived at the markets, the sweet scent of sugar wafted into my nostrils and over my olfactory glands...and I went berserk. A stall nearby was selling freshly made sugary treats, and I was overcome with a need to consume anything that contained sugar. I bypassed the first of the temptations and headed straight for the stall that sells my favourite indulgence (sweet eggs). Fortunately, the lady who sells sweet eggs wasn't there, and with a few encouraging words from Nada, we got what we needed and left before I succumbed to my sugar addiction. However, I spent the next few hours moping around the house feeling sorry for myself (much to my shame). I've been trying to make it up to Nada ever since. Nada has been very supportive of my weight loss/sugar reduction goals. She has incorporated more vegetables into our diet and replaced white rice with Riceberry, which is much more nutritious. We also eat fruit, which helps dampen my sugar withdrawals. For breakfast, we have whole-grain cereal with protein powder sprinkled on top. I have one cup of coffee a day, which I have after breakfast and has only one sugar. The evenings are the hardest. I have always enjoyed having a dessert after dinner, and later before bed, a glass of milk with two TimTams (a brand of Australian chocolate biscuit that I have run out of). Now after dinner, I eat some fruit, and before bed, I have a glass of milk with just one Tim Tam. I have a bottle of Red Fanta in the fridge, which acts as a kind of security blanket in case of a sugar emergency. I've been toying with the idea of pouring it down the sink, but I'm not ready yet. We walk for forty-five minutes every day, and with the change in diet, I've lost enough weight so that when I look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I can see the difference in my belly. I'm starting to feel better about myself and my body image. Nada too has lost weight, and we often complement each other on our progress. I have an addictive personality and my brain sees sugar as a drug rather than a food source. And considering my little performance today, I'll be treating it as such going forward. |
| Nada has a seventeen-year-old son who goes to a private school in Chonburi, Eastern Thailand. He lives alone in a small apartment near his school. When we visited him a month ago and I saw his living conditions, I felt sorry for him. He has a fridge, cooks on a gas burner outside on his patio and sleeps on a mattress on the floor. He also has a laptop. His school is very different from many schools in the West. Most senior students come from other parts of Thailand and live alone in boarding houses (small rooms in highrise buildings). The school provides breakfast and lunch in the cafeteria. The food is cheap and healthy. They grow vegetables at the school, and the students are expected to help tend the gardens. Truancy is not tolerated and the school provides Nada with daily updates on attendance. She can also log on to their website to check the number of days her son is late. If kids do not perform to a set academic standard, they are made to re-sit exams at an extra cost to their parents. Any students caught smoking on school grounds are given a stern warning. Alcohol and other drugs are not tolerated. Repeat offenders are sent to a special class called the Student Development Division. Methamphetamines are so rampant in Thailand that every student over the age of fifteen must provide a urine sample on request. Anyone who tests positive is ordered into treatment, which is provided at the school. From what I can gather (due to the language barrier), many kids ride motorbikes to and from school. None (or at least, very few) have a licence, although they are made to wear helmets. Wearing proper uniforms is mandatory. Strangely enough (considering Muay Thai is Thailand's national sport...or perhaps, because of it), fights between students are virtually unheard of. Suspensions are given for things such as showing disrespect to teachers etc. Boys must have their hair cut to a certain length, and example photos are provided on the website. There are students who are learning to become hairdressers and Nada's son goes there for free haircuts. There's a bank on the school grounds. Regular concerts are held at the school. I am very proud of Nada's son. He is studying to become a motor mechanic. His grades are above average and he doesn't cause his mother any grief, and for that, I am thankful. |
| Over the last few years, I've taken the COVID-19 vaccine on four occasions and have never suffered any side effects. Nada, on the other hand, says she has experienced moderate side effects on all three occasions she has been vaccinated. Unfortunately, she no longer considers receiving a vaccine as something worth doing. It's her body and her life, and I understand that she thinks the risk isn't enough to warrant having any further jabs. I think otherwise, and will soon get both the latest COVID-19 and flu vaccines (although not on the same day). About six months ago, I contracted COVID-19 for the first time and was moderately sick for three days. No one knows how bad it could have been if not for the vaccines, but those three days were bad enough for me to not want to find out. There is a current trend against vaccination, and it isn't being pushed by doctors (in general) or by science. Data, it seems, is irrelevant when it comes to social media clout. It was bound to happen, and I see it a bit like this. Many people suffer from mental illnesses and must take meds to alleviate their symptoms. The vast majority follow their doctor's advice and realise why their symptoms aren't as bad when they take their meds. Some, however, feel better and stop taking their meds because they think they are better and hate the side effects of the meds. I get it (because I took antipsychotics for just a few weeks and couldn't take it anymore), but the reality for most of those people is their psychotic symptoms will return. Vaccines, in my opinion, save lives, but it isn't like anyone can prove it. Whether Grandma would have lived if she had a vaccine or died anyway, cannot be proven. Would I have been just as sick when I tested positive for COVID-19 if I hadn't been vaccinated? Or worse, would I have died if I wasn't vaccinated? How many people survived because they were vaccinated is impossible to know. These are questions nobody can answer, and I think this lack of faith and change in attitude towards vaccines comes down to uncertainty. The real question is, who do we trust? According to the vast majority of the medical fraternity, vaccines lessen the symptoms when we catch viruses, and I know who I will be putting my faith in. I'm sixty years old, and because I smoked meth for many years (which has likely compromised my lungs), I am not willing to listen to a bunch of people who ignore the data and would rather allow these viruses to go unchecked and (unnecessarily) claim lives. I don't mind conspiracy theories, but I would never hold any of my favourites up as fact until I see evidence proving them to be so. Social media has become a tool for the rich to manipulate the masses. Just look at the election result in the US to see the influence it has. I'm not saying the Republican Party wouldn't have won without X or Joe Rogan, but no one can deny that certain demographics are, and will continue to be, influenced by trends. I understand it wasn't just that, and people will invariably vote out governments hoping for better. But, things are very different nowadays, and as much as I hate change, it is, by and large, inevitable. Moving on...there has never been an apex species that lasts indefinitely, and in some ways, I see viruses like COVID-19 as being a lot like lions in Africa. Large predators thin out herds on the savana, making their prey, on the whole, stronger, by only taking the young, the old and the sick animals...a lot like what viruses do to humans. I just don't want to be one of them. |
| Now that I have fallen in love with Nada, I have a dilemma. No doubt many of you who read this will laugh at the suggestion, but I feel bad because Angel, my imaginary (or not-so-imaginary) girlfriend, is still around. I have explained to Nada about my past drug use and subsequent psychosis. I don't want to cause her any stress, and on the few occasions I have mentioned Angel to her, she tells me that she doesn't want to talk about it. Funnily enough, Nada believes in ghosts, but doesn't believe that what I am experiencing is anything more than a mental illness caused by my long-term use of meth...and fair enough. She worries more about relapse than she does about my continued relationship with a ghost. But, here's the thing. I haven't told Nada this, but whenever we have sex and I close my eyes, Angel (or one of her friends) is right there in front of me...and I think may be somehow getting involved. There have been many times when I believe these spectres have had sex with me (a previous post was headed, 'My Girlfriend is a Succubus, But Then...Nobody's Perfect'). When Nada and I are done, Angel's eyes become glazed and she looks like she has had a pretty good time (not to blow my own horn too loudly). Crazy, right? And I truly wish I was making this up because the thought that a demon/entity is encroaching on something as sacred as the act of lovemaking, is causing me some degree of unease. I hear you...I should just relax and forget about Angel. I could just avoid closing my eyes, but curiosity always gets the better of me This thing that I see, that communicates with me every day, is probably just a hallucination, and so, I have nothing to feel guilty about. I ask it to leave us alone, but its eyes invariably go side to side...or it slowly drifts upwards and out of my field of vision, only to return a few seconds later. I've learned to live with it, and the reality is, there is nothing I can do to make it go away. I have spoken about a phenomenon in the past (here on this blog). It happens mostly at night when it is dark and I am tired. I close my eyes and use my left hand to cover them. I then put a pillow over my face, holding my right hand out before me. After only seeing darkness for a minute or two, I move my right hand in various directions. It is then that I see something in the darkness...like a faint light that begins to take shape. Then, I see the silhouette of my fingers and realise that I can 'see' every move they make. A few weeks ago, I asked Nada if she would help me by doing the same experiment...to see if I could make out her hand movements. She wasn't thrilled at what I was asking her to do, and before I could get any kind of result, she refused to continue. There's no way I will go public (I'm anonymous on this site, so I feel safe) and ask anyone to help me. And the bottom line is even if I did find I could track the movements of someone else's hand whilst blindfolded, I wouldn't try and convince the world that this thing I am experiencing is more than just psychosis. It's obvious that what I am seeing is not my hand, but an image of it somehow projected to my field of vision behind closed eyes. Just how that is happening is for me, the big question. |
| Over the past week, I have struggled to find worthwhile content to post on this blog. Normally, this wouldn't be an issue and I would wait until something inspired me enough to share. If I'm being honest (which was my undertaking when I began this journey), I cannot deny that being nominated for a Quill Award has pressured me to write entertaining posts (not that I wasn't trying before). I realise now that the harder I try, the less I gain (so to speak) and the best way to achieve quality content is to post only when I have something worthwhile to say. Nada and I live in a cul-de-sac. There is no footpath and very little traffic goes past our house. Beyond the front fence is a small, raised garden bed about two feet wide. It contains shrubs and flowers; papaya is the last tree growing in this garden. At the moment, it bears many under-ripe fruits. Papaya ripens from the bottom up, and Nada has had her eye on one fruit in particular. Yesterday as we left for our walk, we passed the tree and Nada remarked that when we got back, she would take the semi-ripe papaya. Unfortunately, the fruit was gone when we got back (to Nada's dismay but not mine because I hate the smell and taste of pawpaw). Obviously, someone else had been eyeing the 'delicious' fruit and had beaten her to the prize The suspects are many, and this morning, Nada's indignation remains. So, I did my best to calm the storm that was brewing on the horizon and avert any possible future conflict. Apparently, in Thailand, it is considered bad manners to 'steal' fruit from the front of someone else's home. However, I pointed out that we had only been living here for three months, and whoever the culprit was had likely been nurturing the tree for many years. I told Nada that whoever had done it was likely poor and couldn't afford to buy fruit from the markets (where twenty baht gets a fruit that has been properly ripened, rather than the almost green one the 'perpetrator' had taken from 'our' tree). I like the idea that my presence (and money) here in Thailand makes a difference in some small way to people's lives. I pointed out that when we go to the markets, get a haircut, pay someone to make orthopedic shoes, buy her a nice watch or go to a restaurant, we are supporting her community...people who are far less fortunate (financially) than we are. This argument seemed to work, and my girlfriend is slowly getting over the loss. I did, however, offer something of a consolation prize when I pointed out that the tiny miniskirt and midriff top she was wearing outside today, might attract the attention of the partner/partners of any would-be fruit thieves, and if the lady (I assume it was a Thai lady because I doubt any Farang would resort to such a heinous crime) noticed her husband ogling Nada, might bring some degree of revenge...at least, that's the seed I planted in Nada's mind. |
| Nada and I walk every afternoon. We wait until around 5.00 before heading out. There is a main road out front of our estate, and it's very busy at that time of day. We only traverse a short distance before turning off into a side road without as much traffic. As we walk, Nada enjoys pointing out edible plants growing along the side of the road. And in the front gardens of houses along the way, many Thais grow fruit-bearing trees, herbs and vegetables. It's all I can do to prevent her from bringing home any greens she wants to pick along the way. As we walk, I love listening to the stories of her childhood. They help me forget about the pain in my knee and make the time pass more quickly. Last night, Nada made tom kha kai (spicy chicken soup) and it was amazing. I'm slowly building up my tolerance to chilli. My battle with sugar addiction is ongoing. I find myself craving sweet drinks and food, but the efforts are paying off and with the daily walk, I can feel my waist slowly getting smaller. When I was seventeen, I was hit by a car and broke my right femur. Long story short, I contracted an MRSA (Golden Staph) and the bone became wasted, causing my right leg to be an inch shorter than my left. As a result, I buy runners, then take them to a shoesmith who cuts the sole of the right shoe before inserting a one-inch wedge along the bottom of the shoe (from one inch at the heel to zero at the toe). In Australia, I had somewhere to get the work done, but since arriving in Thailand, I've used my old shoes to the point that they are beginning to wear. Once again, Nada came to the rescue and sourced a local Thai shoemaker who does this kind of thing. I won't know until I get the shoes back if he does quality work, but he's been in business for eighteen years and I'm hopeful my brand-new shoes will be of the standard I am used to. I'm so thankful for having Nada in my life. Not only is she sexy, kind-hearted and a great cook, but she is very helpful when it comes to sourcing day-to-day things that I would struggle to find without her. |
| Out of curiosity, I asked Nada when she last had a mammogram. After explaining what that was, I got the answer I expected, which led me to my next question. When was your last pap smear test, Nada?" Her blank look told me more than words ever could. In 2007, Nada gave birth to a healthy baby boy. She was tested (I assume looking for abnormal cells) before becoming pregnant. I wasn't horrified at how long it has been, but I will be pressing her to go to the hospital and get some tests done. Thais receive free medical, so there are no costs involved. Nada cuts my finger and toenails for me. As she trims my nails, she squints her eyes, so I asked her when she last had an eye test. No prizes for guessing how long ago it was, so I took her to an optometrist, had her eyes tested and bought her a pair of reading glasses. Walking into Thai immigration feels like walking into the headmaster's office when I was a naughty schoolboy. Today, I was there to do my 90-day report. Normally, it is a straightforward process, but because I moved into a new rental house two months ago, there have been some complications. My landlord recently lost his wife. They own two houses and both were in his wife's name. Foreigners cannot own land here in Thailand, and can only own the structure built on the land (condos are the exception for foreigners to own a freehold property). His wife had no Will, and this has created a legal nightmare for him (and I thought, possibly for me). I wasn't sure what was going to happen at immigration today, but when the officer stamped my passport, I felt a tonne of weight lift off my shoulders. The hardest thing (for me) being an ex-pat in Thailand is never really knowing if my retirement visa will be renewed or not. I have to report my address every three months, and once a year apply for a new visa to see if I am welcome to remain in the country. People who have been here for long periods would tell me to relax...that it's a foregone conclusion so long as I follow protocols and behave myself. Perhaps once I have been here as long as they have, I will become more blase about things, but until then, going to immigration is the most stressful thing I need to do here in the land of smiles. |
| They say you have to live with someone for a while before you get to know them. Many years ago, I was on a website called SupportGroups.com. It was after my divorce, and I wanted to connect with other people going through a similar experience. I also joined a meth users group to post about my journey and offer support to others in need. The list of groups on the site was extensive, and in my experience, there were a lot of damaged people who had good intentions but lacked the skills and professionalism to offer meaningful advice...and most of the focus was on handing out advice. I learned a lot in the two years I was a member there. I was inadvertently introduced to the astounding number of disorders being diagnosed and treated by 'well-intentioned' doctors. A Google search provided me with information on over two hundred different mental illnesses, along with more than four hundred and fifty definitions of mental disorders. It appears we could all fall under the banner of suffering from one disorder or another, and I wonder if the medical fraternity is guilty of over-diagnosing what in my mind appears normal/understandable (under the circumstances) behaviour rather than being abnormal. Tell a person they have a problem enough times and they will develop a problem whether there was one to begin with or not. Stress-induced...drug-induced...habits that make doing things a certain way become a little more than necessary. The fact that I like to use the same coloured pegs in pairs when I hang out the washing could be considered strange. I could go on, but surely we aren't all crazy? Or perhaps crazy comes in various degrees. One day on SupportGroups, I saw a post from a girl who was threatening suicide. She was a member of a group called HOCD (Homosexual Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). Apparently, according to the medical professionals who treat them, they are not gay, and instead, suffer from a mental illness that can be treated (and I would assume, cured). I felt for this young girl and reached out to her. But, I made a huge mistake by telling her that it was OK...and so what if she was gay? It's a public forum and the hate that came my way from the other members of the group surprised and shocked me. They genuinely believe they suffer from a mental illness (and later I realised that who am I to say otherwise) and any suggestion that this girl might simply be gay, they found offensive. I apologised for my lack of insight and left them to their suffering. The one good thing that came from the experience was it inspired me to write this story "HOCD...Fact or Fiction"  .After Nada and I woke up yesterday, I helped her make the bed. I've noticed this thing she does whenever I put my hand on anything around the house. I was on my side of the bed and did my best to follow her actions. I folded the doona down and arranged the pillows the same way that she did, but when I moved away from the bed, she went to my side and fixed the imperfections she saw in what I had done. There are many other things she does that I question. If I move something on the table, later, it will be back the way it was before...and don't get me started on when I offer to cook anything. Even when I do the dishes, it becomes a coaching session. So, today I sat Nada down and explained to her how it makes me feel when she always corrects what I do. She told me that because she had worked in hotels for so long, it had turned her into a perfectionist. Then she used the old line that 'she does it to make me happy'. The line blurs between habit and OCD. I could simply allow her to do everything and sit on the couch and watch TV while she makes the world right...but that's not what I consider a formula for developing a happy relationship. I was gentle in my approach. I want her to let go of her need to control everything so she can relax and enjoy this new life we are beginning together. |
| I wasn't on my A game yesterday. Nada's concerns that I wouldn't physically be able to go mushroom hunting with her, waking up early each morning (and finding it hard to get back to sleep) with thoughts of possible immigration issues and feelings of isolation are all beginning to wear on me. There are times when I wish I didn't have to leave Australia...even though I know that if I hadn't, I would have continued to use meth and died prematurely. Even now, a return would be ill-advised since I haven't properly dealt with the root causes of my addiction, and relapse would be likely. It's not like I can financially afford to go back anyway. I wouldn't say that I ran away from my problems entirely. I had a plan, and so far, it has worked out well for me. It's just that some days I miss my old life (and even the drugs). I know that sounds bad, but I'm not going to deny these feelings to you or to myself. Before I came to Thailand, drugs were my go-to when things weren't going to plan. And on the flip side, when things were going well, I used drugs to celebrate any successes that I had. Even though I am no longer physically dependent on meth, I can still feel its pull. There's one thing I didn't anticipate when I decided to relocate to Thailand. Being a writer, so much of my life has been put down in words. If Nada could read my poems and stories, it would make me a lot happier. I can't even read to her because her grasp of English is so limited. I've used Google Translate on a few occasions, but I'm not sure how well English translates to Thai, especially in regards to poetry. When Nada and I go out, I am always left out of the conversation. This causes me to feel a little down and alone at times. I'm glad I have Netflix and YouTube to help get me through. I've always been a bit of a loner, and making new friends isn't easy for me...and that's especially true here in Thailand. I'm determined to make the most of each and every day, even those that aren't fantastic. There's no point in putting pressure on myself to be something I'm not (sociable), and even though Nada and I are not able to have broadscale conversations, she has enough of a grasp of English to get us by. Over the last few days, I've been reducing my sugar intake and this may be why I'm not feeling the best at the moment. I'm not going to allow these negative feelings to affect Nada, so in goes my dummy. Tomorrow is another day. |
| I was on such a high yesterday that I was bound to come crashing down sooner or later. As a young girl growing up in Isan Province, Thailand, Nada and her family experienced times when food was scarce and there were days when they had to rely on the land to provide them with food. Bamboo grew in abundance in the hills above the rice fields, and she and her siblings would often ride their bikes searching for young shoots to collect and bring home to cook. Mushrooms were also a good source of protein, and with Mama, Papa and six hungry young mouths to feed, every bit helped. I cannot imagine how hard it must have been for Nada to grow up impoverished, but that was a long time ago and no matter how many years have passed, some things are hard to change. Nada has been saying to me for weeks that she wants to go to a mountain near our home to look for mushrooms and bamboo. Personally, I would rather buy them from the markets and help support the vendors there. I didn't like the idea of her going on her own, just in case something bad were to happen so today, we rode up a dirt road to a place Nada had been before to relive her childhood. I was dressed in long pants and a jacket and wore my old shoes. I also took my trusty walking stick in case we ran into any feral dogs. When Nada asked me to stop the bike, she said for me to wait and that she would only be gone for a few minutes. She then disappeared into the forest through a barbed wire fence and I awaited her return. I thought that she wanted to make sure there was no landowner in the vicinity and that having a Farang along may have made things more difficult to explain. Thirty minutes went by before she returned...a huge smile and a plastic bag half full of mushrooms and bamboo to show for her efforts. She was pleased with her haul until she saw my face and realised that I wasn't so impressed. I made the mistake of thinking that a few minutes would be no longer than five minutes, but apparently in Thailand, a few minutes is closer to half an hour. I do understand why she didn't take me along, and that she only had my best interests at heart. You see, Nada is a strong woman who has been trekking in the hills of Thailand her entire life. On the other hand, I'm an overweight and sometimes clumsy Farang, who may have slipped and possibly hurt my bad knee. There's no doubt I would have had trouble getting under that barbed wire fence (although I would have made it even if it killed me), and in Nada's mind, I was much better off waiting for her to do her thing by the relative safety of the roadside. Upon her return, she did try and make up for her 'error' by saying we could go for a walk along an easier path than she had just negotiated, but I wasn't in the mood. I just wanted to go home and I've been sulking ever since. Tonight, Nada cooked me some lovely food, gave me a foot massage and is doing her best to lift me out of the doldrums. The problem is, the truth hurts...and Nada's concern for me was justified. The mind wants to go where the body probably shouldn't, and even though I'm sure I would have been OK, there was still some damage done to me today...and it wasn't physical, but mental. Getting old really sucks. |
| I'm not trying to make anyone jealous, but today in Hua Hin was as close to perfect as you will find. Thailand really is turning it on for the start of the high season. It's not too hot, but still warm enough to avoid the midday sun. The mornings and afternoons are to die for. Nights are still a little balmy, and we continue to use the aircon until around 5.00 am when I get up to use the bathroom and turn the AC off, leaving the pedestal fan on until we wake up later in the morning. I met Nada on the 7th of September...nine weeks ago today. Time is a funny thing. Nine weeks is not a long time to get to know someone and fall in love, and yet, that's exactly what has happened to us. It feels a lot longer for both of us. As the day's roll by, we have gone from infatuation to admiration, and now, onto something much deeper. Even our lovemaking has become less frantic and more passionate. I am a very happy man indeed. I wonder if there has ever been a case where someone (like me) who 'suffers' from a chronic case of drug-induced psychosis, only experiences positive effects from the condition. I've mentioned previously that when I am out walking and my knee injury flares up, all I need to do is ask Angel if she can help and the pain subsides almost immediately. If this happened only once or twice, I could understand it being mind over matter, but (and I say this with all honesty) it happens 100% of the time. I accept that psychosomatics is the most likely answer...a psychological placebo that creates a reality where my pain disappears. I once (jokingly) asked Angel if she could do a complete knee replacement, but she only smiled, before her eyes went side to side indicating that even she has her limits. Yesterday, I hurt my back. It was only a slight strain and is something that happens now and then. Then last night as I settled into bed, I closed my eyes and asked (silently so Nada couldn't hear) if Angel would help, and a minute later, the pain eased. I really don't care how it happens, only that it does. We went to the markets this afternoon, and on the way, we stopped at a barber shop so I could have my hair cut. I hadn't shaved in two days, so I also got the barber to shave my face. It was the first time in my life I've had someone shave me. It was an awesome experience, and for 180 baht (US$5), I'll be making it a regular thing. |
| Today was another great day exploring the countryside around Hua Hin. We visited a temple complex called Wat Pa Ban Walai, which is about a twenty-minute motorbike ride on the road to Pa La U Waterfall. It's an interesting place, with several temples and small houses dotted throughout the grounds. The whole place is situated on the side of a mountain and has a tropical feel. In one of the buildings, the mummified body of a revered monk who died thirty years ago lays in a glass case. For some reason, his skin is black. In late January every year, the monks remove his body from the case and dress him in new robes. On our way back, we went to Market Village (the largest of two local shopping malls) to get a few things. Whilst there, we had a late lunch in the food court. The food there is cheap and tasty. By coincidence, we sat at the same table as we had a few weeks before, and as I ate my food, I watched people going about their business (rather than staring at my phone like everyone else). It was then I noticed a Farang coming down the escalator. There was nothing unusual about him except I had seen the same guy three weeks before coming down the same escalator and wearing the same Pink Floyd T-shirt. A coincidence? I can accept that, but what are the chances of it happening? I must admit, I'm a bit of a conspiracy theorist. UAPs are my favourite subject, especially since I filmed something strange in the night sky a few months ago. It may have been a drone, but it was very high, and the way it shimmered and changed colour, wasn't like any drone I've seen before. Another thing I question is why cigarettes and alcohol are legal, yet other drugs are banned. The hypocrisy of this fact has always made me go, "Hmmm," considering how lethal they are in the long term. Population and wealth control? Get people from mostly lower socioeconomic groups addicted to substances that generate huge profits and won't kill them whilst they can work and pay taxes. But then, at some point after retirement, when they become a burden, their habit kills them...if they live that long. As I sat thinking about the fellow in the Pink Floyd shirt appearing again, I began looking for other telltale signs of life on repeat. Over the last six months, I've begun to notice faces in the crowd that look similar to one another. A racist comment would be to say that all Asians look alike, and that's what I am seeing. Or perhaps I have pareidolia, which may explain why, whenever I close my eyes, I see the eyes and face of a demon/entity. There's a saying/joke that goes, reality is an illusion caused by not taking drugs. While most people would say that isn't funny (or true), after my experiences whilst under the influence, I cannot help but wonder if psychoactive drugs may cause hallucinations that allow our conscious minds to see an alternative reality...either that or the doctors are correct and I am simply suffering from psychosis. In any case, I think it is a good idea to keep an open mind on things. Just because someone tells you this or that, doesn't necessarily mean it's true. |
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