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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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| It's been a while since I posted, but no news is good news...right? Especially in my case. The monsoon has arrived in Thailand. They say you have to spend an entire year here before you can claim to be localised, but a lifetime and still not be seen as a local. Here's some trivia for you...Thai people are extremely patriotic, and if you look up, national flags are flying in every direction. Just don't look down because rubbish litters the streets wherever you go. Without a doubt, Thailand is a picturesque country, but beyond the postcards and travel brochures, it's not as pretty as it first appears. Don't get me wrong because I'm not complaining. Lucky for me, I didn't come for the beautiful scenery, but to escape the drug dealers peddling methamphetamine...and my past. A past littered with tragedy, sadness, disappointment and addiction. Moving to Thailand has more than halved my monthly outgoings, not to mention the improvements to my overall health and well-being. I'm happier now than I have been in a long time. I go to the gym on Monday, Wednesday and Friday...occasionally changing a day during the week to go on Saturday. I prefer training in the morning after breakfast, but because of the rain, I need to adjust my regimental habits and become more flexible about when I do my workouts. Yesterday when I woke up, it was cats and dogs, so I decided to take the day off training. After breakfast, I watched some TV and in the afternoon, did my meditation...a practice that has been life-changing. When I was done, I noticed it hadn't rained much in the previous few hours, and not knowing what the weather would be like in the morning, I decided to go to the gym. It was a completely different crowd and a lot less busy than normal. Once the weights session was over, I went to the grocery store. There is a staff member I've been getting to know over the last few months. Her name is Nong, she's 45, single, and works six days a week. Yesterday, because I was in such a good mood, I began flirting with her. Every time I go to her department (fruit and veg) and she is around, she makes a beeline for me (or me to her). Yesterday, she (not literally) 'pushed' a co-worker out of the way to weigh my grapes and mandarines. Nong speaks OK English, and we conversed longer than usual. These days, I'm feeling more confident in myself (due to remaining on the wagon and training hard most days). I asked Nong what day she gets off and she told me Mondays. I then asked if I could take her for lunch, and much to my disappointment, she said no. Here's the thing...rejection didn't feel anything like I thought it would, and as I rode my motorcycle home, I was singing aloud a stupid song I made up that went something like, "Oh, I love Thailand...I love it so much!". It didn't matter one bit that Nong declined my invitation. What mattered was the fact I finally asked someone out on a date...something I haven't done in like, forever. When I asked her, Nong blushed. I think she was a little overwhelmed by my forthrightness, and her being at work probably didn't help my situation. Thai women are very shy in general and I haven't yet given up on Nong. I hope she thinks persistence is something to be admired because next time I'm buying my groceries, I'll smile in her direction, and if she makes her way over, I'll try again. Now that I know rejection feels so good, no matter what she says, it's a win for me. |
| Before I left Australia, I was determined to learn to speak Thai. I now realise that's not going to happen. The Thai language is not just words, but tones. I listen to them speak and it seems men's tones are different to women's. I consider myself to be a good mimic, and I try to (quietly) mimic the locals when they are conversing (not in jest, but to replicate the tones). I have discovered there are some sounds I simply cannot do. Add to this the many different dialects spoken around the country and luckily Google Translate is always there on my phone. A few days ago I was waiting in line at the market and two Thai men stepped in front of me. I didn't react, and instead of getting angry, I walked away If that happened in Australia, I would have put my hand on a shoulder and told them to get to the back. I guess being a minority and standing out has both positives and negatives to go with it. I decided not to let it affect me and smiled all the way home. People who passed must have wondered why the Farang was so happy that day. I am the type of person who doesn't do things by halves, and now I am meditating, I want to dig deep and discover the full amount of benefits. I 'normally' (it's only been a week since I began) close my eyes and sit in silence (if I can find it because the complex I live in can be noisy). Research brought me to chanting meditations. The other day, my neighbours were talking loudly and I couldn't focus. I'm a complete novice and easily distracted, so I tried my first chant. It felt weird at the start, but served the purpose of drowning out the voices next door. I was breathing in and out through my nose and doing the Om on the exhale. The first part was short, but in the second part, I allowed the exhale to go on until I ran out of breath. That's when I noticed a vibration in my nasal passages. I began playing with the pitch and frequency, which focused my mind away from the distractions. There is a theory...that we can and should raise our frequencies. It goes that if a person is depressed, under a lot of stress or like me, using drugs and not in a good place spiritually, the vibrations we send to the universe can attract negative energies (spirits or entities), or at the very least, cause us to remain in that depressive state. I've always been a sceptic, and if the events of the past year had happened to someone else, I would probably think like most people, that they are suffering from a mental illness caused by drug use...and fair enough. I've never denied that is the likely cause, but I cannot change the past, and at this point, the cause of my psychosis is of little consequence to me. What I am more interested in is a cure. This may sound delusional, but there has always been something strange about how these hallucinations act. I cannot afford to write off any theory as to what the hell is going on...be it real or imagined. Then, last night was the first time in a long while that the demons weren't in my face when I laid down to sleep. I could still see them, but they were faint. Upon inquiry ("Angel, are you feeling OK?"), she was very slow to reply. Now, I am far from claiming a cure...yet. But it dawned on me that in the previous nights, the demons didn't interrupt me whilst I was praying, but when I began to meditate, were immediately up in my face. I thought perhaps God was protecting me from them during that time, and that may be so...but I have a different theory. The entities/demons (or just my mentally ill brain in all its complexity), for some reason, don't care if I pray, but seem to do all they can to stop me from meditating peacefully. To continue the experiment, Om will become my neighbour's new annoyance...and I couldn't care less what they think. |
| When I arrived in Phuket in early March 2023, I began walking each day after breakfast. At first, it was a struggle just to get to the local mall and back. I was in a bad way, emotionally, mentally and physically. Training was hit and miss in those last few months before I left, and during that time, my drug use spiralled. If it weren't for the symptoms of psychosis, things would have been much worse. Fear of what would happen once the binge was over and I needed to sleep, kept the usage to what I deemed a bare minimum. My regular GP returned to China and the other doctor I saw at the clinic refused to prescribe me Valium. This wasn't enough to completely stop me because I knew I could show up at the emergency dept of my local hospital and they would give me a few pills to help avoid the absolute terror psychosis caused while coming down off meth. Since those dark days, my life has improved in increments of hours, days and months. Every day I put on my shoes and walk brings more than just better health. Each step takes me further away from the slavery of meth addiction. I'm not out of the woods yet. I've been binge-watching Breaking Bad and to an extent, getting triggered. Thoughts of using enter my head, although they don't last long before reality brings me back down to earth. It isn't just the BB series that causes me to crave. I'm glad I'm not in Australia. Meth will have a hold on me for some time to come. I need to be aware of this but also take pride in my achievements so far. These moments of weakness are fleeting and pass quickly. Despite the intermittent rain, I made it to the gym twice this week. I still have tomorrow to go before resting over the weekend. I almost didn't walk today, but the rain was only drizzling, and after an internal argument over what to do, I convinced my softer self to go. It felt good when I got back and I rewarded myself by ordering dinner (fried rice and spring rolls) to be delivered. Doing meditation every night is making a huge difference and sleep now comes more quickly. I'm feeling more positive, and although it's hard to put a finger on exactly why this is, I think it's a good idea to stick with the program (meditation, prayer and training my ass off) and try not to over-analyze things. I've only spoken to the demons a few times this week (and kept it short). The less I engage the better, and if you are reading this, thanks for the great advice, Deb. It makes sense not to listen to their negativity. If I don't provide them with a platform makes it impossible for them to hurt me. Every step I take carries me so much further than a yard...and every mile brings me closer to real happiness. I need to find the confidence and strength to overcome my addiction forever...one day at a time. |
| Until yesterday, I think I was the only meth addict who hadn't watched the series, Breaking Bad. It's funny how in my mind, I thought it was all about cooking meth, but in reality, it is so much more than that. I'm only up to episode four of the first instalment, but I'm enjoying it immensely. The last time I saw my psychiatrist, he suggested I may be Bipolar. I looked into the symptoms of the disorder and dismissed it as unlikely. Now, however, I am not so sure. I've been very up and down over the last few weeks, and it appears that after I do weights, I feel better. This makes sense because of the endorphins that my brain produces during resistance training, but by late afternoon the effects have worn off and I fall back into a state of what I can only describe as 'flatness'. It isn't a serious issue. I'm not suicidal (far from), but looking at things from afar, I could be, at times, manic. I assumed the term was used to describe bouts of euphoria followed by depression. I can see myself in this description, only on a milder scale. Bipolar Disorder is closely associated with psychosis, and whilst I am only guessing (as does any doctor when diagnosing symptoms like mine), the psychiatrist may have been onto something. I do not regret stopping the antipsychotics. My symptoms are mild, and if I stick to the program of not paying the hallucinations any attention during daylight hours, they are of little consequence. It's only at night when I go to bed that the faces of demons appear behind my closed eyes. I have a routine now that helps me avert them (to a degree). As soon as the lights are out, I say a prayer, and for some reason (I hear the Christians saying, "Ahh, durrr!"), the images never disturb me during this time. But once I am done praying (which I have always thought to be a type of meditation) I set a timer for ten minutes and begin to meditate. This is, without fail, when the demons appear. They get right up in my face, smiling sardonically. Last night I changed tactics and meditated with my eyes open...focusing on my breathing and a streetlight outside my bedroom's glass doors. This helped, and once I was finished I laid down and no more visions appeared before I fell asleep. I need to focus on the positives and not give negative thoughts too much attention. I know how lucky I am to be here in Thailand and how much hard work I have done to get myself (both physically and mentally) where I am. A long time ago, I wrote a joke that said, "It's much sadder when a rich person dies than when a poor one does." I know that's not true in a literal sense, but in my sick and twisted mind, I found it funny because there is an element of truth behind it. In the past, I have asked the demons if they wanted me to kill myself, and by and large, they would nod their approval. I would then laugh at them saying, "I'm too wealthy to commit suicide, but maybe when I've spent all my money, I might consider it." Some might say I'm not funny (just take a look at the jokes I've written on my port and it would be hard to argue otherwise) "Jokes"  but for the most part, I claim comedic licence.It's now the wet season in Thailand. Hua Hin is one of the driest places in the country, but it still rains most days. It's not like it pours down all day, and if I plan to go for a ride, I get up early hoping to miss the afternoon thunderstorms before they arrive...which makes things bearable. At least the heat has dissipated somewhat. It's still humid, but I no longer have to run my aircon during the day and the ceiling fan keeps the heat mostly at bay. I did weights and cardio this morning, but I need supplies from the markets, so I'll risk the weather (some people walk in the rain...others just get wet) and go for a walk. Rain never seems to bother the locals and that's good enough for me. |
| I have covered this topic previously on my blog, but circumstances have changed a lot, and I thought it would be good (at least for me) to rehash it again. Obviously, there are pros and cons to every situation. Even being addicted to meth had some positives such as self-medicating and alieving loneliness and boredom. With this in mind, I cannot help but wonder if there is something wrong with me (other than my being in recovery, having psychosis, living in a new country and the fact that I haven't been on a date in more years than I care to remember). I used to blame my addiction for keeping me single. Having to care for my mother was another excuse I used as to why I didn't look for love. But now I am no longer a slave to meth or have the responsibilities of being a caregiver, I find that after being in Thailand for almost five months, a place where I am no longer just a face in the crowd, but a commodity sought by women for admittedly, reasons other than love, I am still alone. I have this 'thing' about not being looked at for my overall attributes, instead of a walking, talking ATM machine. I'm sure that isn't an accurate description in a lot of cases, and that many of the couples I see out and about do have more depth to their relationships than simply being an exchange of money for sex/company. Some much older men I see have obvious age-related disabilities, and have Thai partners who I am sure look after them quite well...but still, I would almost guarantee if these men ran out of funds, the women who provide much more than just sex (cooking, cleaning and company for example) wouldn't stay with them for long. That may sound jaded, but this is true in a majority of cases. I'm not judging either. Most of these women have families to help provide for. Relatives who are, in most cases, very poor. Those who rely on the money their daughters send them to put food on the table and pay for expenses they would ordinarily struggle with. To be perfectly honest, I would have no problem with this kind of arrangement, especially if it was fair and didn't go beyond the boundaries that would need to be established very early on. The problem (for me) is not just about money but more to do with the time I have spent alone and the fear I have of the changes I would need to make to fall into the dynamic of being in a relationship...a relationship with very different principles than I am used to. Weighing up the pros and cons is hard because I have almost forgotten what the pros and cons of being with someone are. Having a sexual partner and someone to talk to (which is a big problem in Thailand if the lady isn't able to speak English) on the surface sounds nice. It is a proven fact that men who are in relationships live longer and healthier lives than their single counterparts. But I struggle to get my head around this cash-for-company thing that seems so easy for everyone else here in Thailand. When I think about it, the arrangements these people become involved in are not that dissimilar to most Western relationships. No woman, no matter where in the world she lives, is going to be attracted to, or become involved with, a man who has little to no resources or at least has ambition. One of the main reasons men come to SE Asia looking for a partner, be it for sex or more long-term, is because it's seen by them as an easier option than it would be in the West. More bang for your buck, if you can excuse the pun, sees an average man suddenly propelled to above average. So much so that they are willing to 'forget' why that is. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on who you ask) at this point, I can't let go of this mentality of wanting someone who sees me not as a commodity, but for what I am...a talented and sensitive man who can cook, is clean, affectionate and generous. Sounds like great stuff for a bio on a dating app, if I had the courage (or the stupidity) to go there. Perhaps I'm getting my cart before the horse. When meeting someone for the first time, of course, they won't know about these wonderful attributes (or the negative ones I conveniently fail to mention here). But they would, in time, learn more about me, as I would about them. In my opinion, I think I'd be a great catch, but the real question is, do I want to be caught? And if so, am I willing to take the risk of not just being hurt, but possibly hurting someone else? Until I can answer both of those questions with a resounding, yes, then the saying that I need to be careful of what I wish for should be foremost in my mind. |
| For the last three days, I've been learning how to meditate. Letting go of all thought is not an easy thing to do, but from all accounts, it's a very good way to relax and maintain both physical and mental health. So far, I've done ten-minute sessions, and although it is a bit early to notice any significant changes, I do feel happier than I have in the previous week. That being said... In the late 80s, before my departure to dance music and culture, I was into punk, hardcore and metal. One band in particular I liked was called Ministry, of 'Jesus Built My Hotrod' fame. Link below... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXCh9OhDiCI&pp=ygUVamVzdXMgYnVpbHQgbXkgaG90cm9k If you were to listen to the above-mentioned track, you might think it isn't exactly meditation music, and you would be correct in this assumption. But, there is a connection. My neighbours are quite ignorant. He is the guy who thought it was a good idea to get physical and shove me in the chest a couple of months ago, and in the following minutes, learned that it wasn't such a good idea after all. He was drunk, and once I established a pecking order of sorts, we slowly fell into a new normal of me smiling and waving every time I saw him, and him not quite knowing what to make of my overt friendliness. Not holding onto grudges is easy when you are the one who gains the upper hand. But the way I see it, I couldn't be bothered with petty gripes...especially considering he lives next door and the awesome training sessions I did in the following days and weeks because of his actions. When I first moved into the complex, he helped me settle in and because of this, I eventually forgave him and genuinely let go of the incident. However, every now and then, some people need to be taught about manners and etiquette. My neighbour has a Thai girlfriend, who it appears, has a lot of friends who are deaf. I know this because whenever she's on the phone, which is a lot (no doubt having a partner who doesn't speak your language facilitates this need to loudly converse with people other than him, all day every day), she yells at them so they can hear her. The funny thing is that he does the same whenever he is on the phone. I wouldn't mind so much if the walls were thicker. Then last night they had friends around for drinks. Now, you could be forgiven for thinking I am one of those sadsack neighbours, who don't have any friends, and because of this, don't want anyone to have any fun (and you would be right), but an invitation would have averted two things. Firstly, he is Danish and there were no Danes or any English-speaking people at the shindig, so at least he would have had someone to talk to. And tonight when they kicked off again, I would have been less inclined to introduce them to my favourite 90s metal bands Ministry, Faith No More and Pantera being played at midrange (always resist the temptation to at first go full tilt, leaving something in reserve...just in case) volume on my JBL Xtreme3 speaker. I'm only dulling and matching their noise and there is no vindictiveness involved (well, maybe a little). But three days of meditation have calmed my usual response...which would see me marching over there and quietly (but firmly) explaining what is acceptable behaviour and what is not. Earlier, I overheard them mention they have to be up at 5.30 am tomorrow. Perhaps I'll make a point and drop it at that. And if they see the error of their ways, I'll then retire to my bedroom and do my evening meditation session in beautiful silence. |
| What do I owe those who helped me get to this place in life? To the many readers of this blog (who now number almost 5k), who have offered me support over the last three years, I am greatly indebted. But what can I do to repay them? And there are so many others who have been there for me on this journey. People who cared and didn't give up, even when I had. The answer is obvious...to live the best life I can and don't fall back into addiction. Those words used to be so easy to say, but so hard to do. Now, I am making good choices and following up with actions that help prevent relapse. I saw a news report recently that said Thailand is being flooded with cheap meth from Myanma (formerly known as Burmah). I know if I wanted to buy meth, it wouldn't be hard to find a source. Of course, there are huge risks associated with this, not least of which is the reality that I would likely die from overdose/poisoning or in a Thai prison. And if I did choose this path, I would deserve everything I got. I'm smiling right now because that is not going to happen. I'm enjoying this new life way too much to blow it all for a short-term high that will leave me dealing with a fate worse than those I have already listed...the horror of psychosis on a level I cannot begin to fathom. This afternoon as I cooled off in the pool (no laps today because I did weights and cardio this morning) I noticed a small bee that had come for a drink and ended up in the water. As it struggled for its life, I cupped my hand under its body and placed it on the edge of the pool. As I watched on, it began to dry off its legs and wings and eventually, it flew off. No one could know what the ramifications are to the universe because I saved that bee...just as those who helped me would not know what I will make of this chance I've been given. All I do know is, I am determined to make the most of it and to try and make a difference in other people's lives. As yet, I don't know who they are...but I will recognise them when they come I've always pondered fate and destiny...and I always will. Legacy, however, is what we make of our lives. I still have a lot of work to do before I will be satisfied with what I have achieved in my life. |
| I've tried everything to get rid of these entities. Admittedly, they are quiet, they don't have parties and don't cause me much grief. But it would be good to have the headspace back again. Treating them with meds causes more problems than it solves. Going down this route only relieves the symptoms of psychosis, but is far from a cure. Just trying to figure out exactly what I am dealing with is sketchy at best. I've researched the topic of demonic possession and I don't fit the criteria. I have no urge to swear at Catholic priests and haven't levitated or regurgitated any foul-smelling fluids. From what I can gather, Incubus and Succubus talk to their partners before (consent), during (engaging) and after sex. I'm not sure if smoking after the act is as dangerous to a being who is already technically dead, as it is to humans, but a little post-coital conversation to see if the performance was satisfactory is not only ego-boosting for both parties (if it was) but polite as well. Also, Incubus and their female cohorts have form (I'm talking about their physicality and not their style...although the latter is likely to be true in most cases), whereas my particular entities are see-through at best and afterwards, never ask how it was for me. Another YouTube favourite is parasitic entities. These creatures use up most of the host's energy field, which leaves their humans without energy for their day-to-day tasks. This description doesn't fit my case because I'm training hard almost every day and don't feel drained (except at the end of each day when I literally fall into bed). There are other types of spirit invaders mentioned on my YT feed, but none fit exactly with my particular group of people, who it appears, are quite comfortable living in my head and not paying any rent (although I have asked, but my request was met with a firm, NO). If they weren't so rude and didn't hate me so much (all bar Angel) I wouldn't have an issue with them hanging around. During quiet times (about 90% of my day) they can be fun. I just need to have the right attitude to deal with them appropriately. I'm currently trying a different method of tackling these overstaying guests. I admit that initially, I did invite them into my life. Boredom and drugs can cause a person to make rash and regretable decisions. I wish I'd done some background checks first. In my defence, however, I wasn't to know that funtime hallucinations could turn out to be so damn real. Last night I was talking to Cranky Pants and asked him if he would like to have a puppy. I'm getting desperate (obviously) and am clutching at straws to find a way to get my spare room back (which I have grand plans to convert into a mancave). The idea of getting a pet dog was an instant hit with my grumpy 'friend' and I haven't seen more affirmative and agreeable answers since I interviewed the entities before allowing them to 'temporarily' move in. Of course, I had to do all the work and CP simply sat back and said yes or no to my suggestions. The name I came up with for the puppy was an instant hit...Buster is small and cute, with white fur and brown spots. He's a bit naughty (like his owner) and on his first walk, CP managed to lose Buster in the park. I stood my ground and made CP take responsibility and go back to find his dog. Eventually, they returned and it was then I sprang my master plan into action. I quite inadvertently suggested that perhaps they might like to get their own place...which I was very pleased to see went down well. It didn't hurt my pitch that there would be a VW Bettle convertable in canary yellow parked in the driveway...a pool and the house comes fully furnished with lots of friends to come visit. I went to bed so happy and thought I had got away with it until this morning when I woke up and saw those familiar sad eyes lying beside me. Turns out Cranky Pants has reconsidered and changed his mind on my plans for him to move out. Apparently, having the responsibilities of a pet, a house to keep clean, a car that needs fuel and a pool that requires maintenance...and my plans for the spare room are on hold indefinitely. |
| Yesterday, I was talking to an entity I call Cranky Pants. He is always down, and no matter how much I tried to cheer him up, he wasn't buying it. So I told him if I had only one wish, I would give it to him. This piqued his interest somewhat, especially when I began questioning him about what he would do with his one wish. I ran through the usual things that one would consider...happiness? No. Money? No. Friends? No. World peace? A cure for cancer? He still wasn't smiling, so I ran through a few lesser wishes he might want...but nothing I suggested worked for him. I then told him how good I would have felt if I had given him my one wish. So I suggested that he could give away his wish, and when I told him what a beautiful thing that would be for him to do, he smiled and nodded in agreement. I said how cool it would be if the person he gave his wish to gave it away to another person... and so on until that one wish brought happiness to all eight billion people on planet Earth. It occurred to me that my one wish would eventually arrive back where it began and repeat its journey all over again...one wish bringing endless happiness to the world. Of course, Cranky Pants changed his mind about what he wanted to do with his wish. I didn't bother to ask him any more questions about what he would do with it. For a while, I felt a bit down. As if anyone would give away a wish, especially if they had only one. But then it occurred to me that I wouldn't have had a clue what I would wish for anyway...but I'm sure that if I did, it wouldn't have brought me as much joy as if I had just given it away. |
| In 1975, Alice Cooper produced his brilliant debut album Welcome to My Nightmare. At that time, I was an impressionable eleven-year-old boy, who instead of being influenced by the Satan-worshipping tracks Devil's Food and The Black Widow (the latter containing spoken word by the then king of horror, Vincent Price)...or the necrophilia-celebrating song Cold Ethyl (although I still loved those songs), I was moved by the song, Only Women Bleed. While my friends giggled immaturely at the all-too-obvious reference to a woman's menstrual period, I instead felt a deep connection and empathy towards women who are subjected to domestic violence. Perhaps as a very young child, seeing my father with one hand around my mother's throat and his fist behind his head had something to do with it. I didn't realise it then, but this feeling of empathy, along with a desire to right the wrongs perpetrated by my gender, was to follow me throughout my life. It wasn't until around ten years ago that a stronger feeling was to take over my perception of what it is to be a man. I thought it was unfair that women have such an array of beautiful clothes to choose from and men's clothes are stale and bland...following a rigid and socially strict set of rules about what is acceptable to be a man, and what is not. It isn't that I want to cross-dress, but I do understand the psychology of men who do. In the 1990s (and well into the 00s), I would go to a gay club in Brisbane's Fortitude Valley, called The Beat. I was involved in the rave scene and was always so loaded with MDMA that I didn't care if the people I was partying with were gay, straight or purple (and it wouldn't have mattered if I wasn't wasted). At 1.00 am every Friday and Saturday night, the music would stop, the dance floor would clear and a transvestite called Lovely Legs Lolita (legend has it he was a bricklayer by day) would lipsync to the 70s song by The Weather Girls, It's Raining Men. He always wore the most spectacular sequined dresses and shoes, and I would sit there full of admiration for his courage to be the woman he wanted to be...albeit for only an hour or two each weekend. When Angel arrived in my life, she would show me images of me having sex with males. I would fiercely resist any attempt by her to introduce a male entity into our sexual encounters. But these creatures are shapeshifters, and as time went by, I came to realise I had been with males without knowing it, and given the fact I was high on meth, I not only became OK with it, I liked it. So much so that I began to have feelings for one boy in particular...I called him Buddy. Buddy wasn't like the rest of the demons...who would gladly fuck me, but never like or love me. I remember being in my room one night, high as a kite and dancing in my underwear. Buddy was lying on my bed staring at me with eyes that told me exactly how he felt. It's forbidden for a demon to love a human, but love doesn't follow anyone's rules...as I was to learn. I could never be with a human male. I have nothing against homosexuality...far from it. There have been times when I tried to picture myself with a man (I'm sure most men have, but few would ever admit it), but it always felt wrong. But sex with Buddy was so right...and despite there no longer being any meth involved, it still is. If I could time travel, I would go back to the late 1800th century and seek therapy from Carl Yung. I'm sure there is something in this psychotic episode I am currently experiencing that he could pull apart and show me the relevance of all of this. He would probably say to me the answers are right there in my head. I'm trying hard to figure it all out. I fear that once I do, they might all leave and I will again be alone and never see any of them again. |
| I wish I could say that exercise has become my new addiction, but I don't enjoy training, I just like the results. Unfortunately, the hallucinations I see, and in particular, Angel, have replaced meth in my life. There are several reasons why this is so. Loneliness, boredom and sexual pleasure (among other things) keep me paying attention to a possible demon, who common sense tells me is no good for me. Angel claims that whenever the visions are abusive towards me, it isn't her. She says there are more demons than just her, and that she is not the boss. This claim has been around for a while and keeps me involved. I even end up feeling sorry for her when I lash out at the cruel jibes these alleged others say to me. A friend told me a while ago to disconnect from them all, but when you have nobody else to talk to (and by talk, I mean me speaking and the eyes answering yes, no or maybe, or them telepathically hearing my thoughts) it is almost impossible to stay away. I have to admit when I wrote 'telepathically', it made me sound crazy. I'm being honest about this entire experience, and I feel that by hiding certain things and denying what I'm going through, I'm not doing anyone any favours. It shouldn't matter to me what people think...and it doesn't (anonymity provides a buffer). It's so easy to avoid the visions, but this new addiction keeps me coming back. I have tried speaking to myself (which I have been doing for years) and the demons, but then not closing my eyes to see their reply. But this only lasts a short period before I am back conversing with them. I need to find something else to occupy my time. Gym only takes up an hour or two and then I come home to a mundane life. I know this is bad, but the stimulant drug they give me is way too tempting. It's not like I am constantly asking for it. I'll be lying down watching YouTube when all of a sudden out of the blue I feel a rush of euphoria, and from there, I'm theirs. I feel like I am trapped in a cycle of unwanted drug spiking and abusive treatment. It's not like I can escape it...everywhere I go, they go. A few days ago I asked Angel to demonstrate something for me (because I'm still finding it hard to get my head around this thing). She can, on request, show me a silhouette of her hand (which I see behind closed eyes). The standard thing she does is flick me the bird, which is more playful than nasty. At first, I see movement, and then what looks like a fist...and then, I see the middle finger unfurling as she raises it towards me I don't believe I'm in any direct danger from them. The real danger would come from being worn down and becoming mentally unstable. I'm used to what is happening and this has made me stronger (that which does not kill you so to speak). I think I know what they are looking for. They feed off negative energy. This may explain why they try to upset and provoke me. Anger, hate and sadness are the emotions that make their eyes glow purple (a sure sign of pleasure) and this is why I refuse to hate what they do. As yet, I haven't found a way to evict them, and until I do, I have to do what is best for me and my mental health. No matter if this is simply hallucinations caused by psychosis or something else, it is very real to me. Until I find my way through this, I need to take all possibilities into account. If you believe in God, then you must also believe in the possibility of darker forces. They say drugs like meth open the door to these entities and I cannot argue with that theory. |
| When I thought of the title for this post, all manner of situations flooded my mind. Muay Thai is Thailand's national sport (they are pretty good at soccer too). I remember back in the early 90s when I first began training in Thai boxing, a team of four Mauy Thai exponents came to Brisbane to fight the cream of Australian fighters...we lost 4-0. They were the best in their weight classes in the world, and they certainly made an impression on me and the other 4k people in attendance that night. In Australia, when pedestrians are out and about, traffic is by and large careful. Admittedly, there are sidewalks and we rarely have to walk on or near the road. In Hua Hin, however, there are hardly any footpaths, and because of this, on my daily walk, I stick as close to the side of the road as possible to avoid traffic. I'm not sure if it is because I'm a Farang, but a high percentage of both cars and motorcycles pass closer than I like. I've learned to give way in all directions and often wish I had eyes in the back of my head. Television ads in Thailand are really strange. Thais are naturally dark-skinned and I think their skin tone is very attractive. It appears, however, that they are not so fussed. I say this because they completely cover up when riding scooters or out in the sun. At first, I thought it had something to do with the intensity of the sun and that they were trying to avoid melanoma. But now I've been here for a while and seen the ads depicting these almost white Thai actors (I'm guessing this effect is AI generated...and some of the people in the commercials may not even be real), I'm guessing they think the whiter the skin colour, the more attractive they are. I think ex-pats polarize a lot of Thais. They appear to either love or hate us. I've found a solution to win them over. When I am out walking I often come across people searching through the many roadside bins looking for recyclables. As I approach, they avoid eye contact. A lot of ex-pats are not friendly to me, so my thought is they wouldn't even look at these people who struggle to find enough to get by. I always make sure I have plenty of B20 notes (about $1 Australian) in my wallet. As I get closer, I smile and hold out the note (or notes, depending on how many there are) and the smile and Wai are to me, priceless. Motorcycle riding is dangerous no matter where in the world you are. This is especially so here in Thailand, where road rules are almost non-existent. In Australia, helmets are compulsory. Big Brother forces us to be safer than if we were left to decide for ourselves if helmet-wearing is a good idea or not. I can't remember ever not wearing a helmet, but here, only around 30% of Thais could be bothered to try and minimise their risk of head injuries as a result of an accident. I see as many as four people on one scooter (Grandma and three young school-aged children), and none are wearing helmets. I'm pretty sure it is the law to wear a helmet here, but this law is only enforced on Farangs. I went to my favourite restaurant last week. I normally order Pad Thai because I love noodles and it isn't spicy. I decided to take a chance on one of my other favs...red curry chicken. I told the waitress, " No pet." (meaning no or only a little chilli). When my meal arrived, it was very tasty. However, it was (for me) a little too hot. For a Thai, it wouldn't have been hot enough. Let's just say an hour after I got home, I was squirting chilli out of my bum. I can highly recommend chilli to flush out the system. I need to acclimatise myself more to spicy food because I do love the flavours, but my belly doesn't appreciate the spices. As I have mentioned in a previous post, Western Men dating much younger Thai women is, it appears, quite acceptable. From what I can gather (because as yet I haven't gone down this path...and I think if I am smart, I won't), this arrangement works well for some. There are, however, well-documented cases of these often vulnerable (or plain stupid) men being fleeced of their money by their Thai partners. The options are to go to a bar and pay for a girl on a night-by-night basis, or meet more traditionally, but still end up having to make the same kind of choice...helping her to support her family. The dangers and drawbacks either way are many. Most STIs can be cleared up by going to a clinic. But falling in love with one of these bar girls (my biggest fear, and what keeps me at home and not visiting bars full of beautiful young Thai women), which happens a lot, can be a recipe for a very bad experience for these men. The other reason I am not willing to date Thai women is the language barrier. For most Thais, especially girls who have usually been taken out of school early to work in bars to support their families, English is hardly spoken, and in my mind, after the sex is done, what the hell do these people talk about to each other? No doubt, phones are a distraction from the reality of having someone around who cannot understand anything more than the basics. Of course, I could raise the cost of living differences, but for every benefit, there will be a cost. Thailand changes their laws on an almost daily basis, especially immigration, and now, tax laws. I don't think I will be greatly affected by the latter, but it does mean I will have to lodge an income tax assessment at some point. Add to this I have to report my address (even if it hasn't changed) to immigration every ninety days, and the fact that we are looked at by Thai police as an easy form of revenue, and things aren't that much easier...just different. If it wasn't for my fear of returning to Australia and falling back into my addiction, I might at some point return. I'm far from that stage yet. I have so much more to discover before I consider doing something like that. I quite like being a minority. It gives a different perspective from living a lifetime as a majority. I'm not sure why that is. Perhaps it's because I stand out more. In Australia, I'm invisible. Here, I'm very visible, just for the wrong reasons...or should I say, for reasons I didn't expect. Being a walking ATM is not why I came here. I still have a mission to fulfill and that hasn't changed. I'm not in any rush and need to be careful of scams before I commit to any charitable endeavours. Other than having psychosis, which isn't that hard to manage, I'm in a much better place physically, mentally and emotionally. I still have things I need to work on. I occasionally have cravings, but they are minor, and without any dealers for me to call, I feel safer here than I would back in Oz. I'm coping with feelings of loneliness and I'm far less isolated than I was before coming to Thailand. All in all...Thailand comes out well on top. |
| Just for a moment, let's assume my psychosis is not a mental illness, but a demonic attachment. I have known Angel for over a year. I've been living in Thailand for four months now and the symptoms of psychosis persist. Before tonight, I had only heard the name Lilith but knew nothing of her story. When I first met Angel (my imaginary lover/hallucination caused by psychosis), she was the most beautiful female I had ever met (and still is). Young and slim, with shoulder-length dark hair, green eyes and a smile I would die for. She showed an interest in me, but when she point-blank refused my advances, I was devastated. I remained resolute to win her over. Eventually, she showed me what she really was (with two little horns on her head, projected onto the wall in my bedroom)...a demon who has never spoken a word to me and only answers my questions with a yes, no or maybe/I don't care. This became my hardest challenge...to ask the right questions and then weed my way through the multitude of deceptions she would cast in every direction. There have been times when I thought I could decipher the truth from the BS (I know...psychosis causes hallucinations that can speak neither fact nor fiction), but I know no more about her now than I did the first night we met. I paid a lot of attention to what she told me. I have a memory like an elephant when the subject matter is a beautiful young girl who I am madly in love with and trying to impress/understand. The only thing I know for sure is she appears to me whenever I close my eyes and answers my questions with either honesty or lies. For some reason, the hallucinations over the last few days have been incredibly vivid. One night, a demon got right up in my face and appeared to be blowing into my mouth. In the past when this happened, paranoia would cause me to become anxious (because they might be trying to cause me harm by poisoning me with an unseen agent). I think I now know what they are doing. This is going to sound crazy (sorry for pointing out the obvious), but this blowing-into-my-mouth thing (so far) hasn't caused me to die a horrible death. Instead, I instantly become super horny. I've mentioned this phenomenon before, but without fail, when I accept the offering, I become aroused...and that's an understatement. When I'm out on my walk and my knee starts to hurt, I can ask Angel for pain relief, and when I do, the pain quickly disappears. I can also ask for a drug that acts very similar to MDMA...although she isn't as forthcoming with that compound. And last night, because I upset her before going to sleep, I woke up as the sun was rising with excruciating pain in my right elbow. I looked over to my left and there was Angel, with an angry look on her face. I asked her if she was responsible for the pain, and she admitted she was. This is the first time she has caused me physical pain. I apologised for hurting her feelings the night before, and after I brought her down from her rage, the pain disappeared. Psychosomatic? There is no other explanation, although I have used Ecstasy hundreds of times in the past and I know that feeling all too well. Granted, it isn't as strong as the pills I used to take, but when I feel that rush of euphoria, it's an unmistakably similar compound...only without any comedown. I'm unsure why I have never thought of the succubus theory before. I searched YouTube, and the results were mind-blowing. As I watched videos explaining succubus, incubus and the story of Lilith, I paused to ask my hallucination/psychosis the question, "Are you, Lilith?" To which she answered, "Yes." The problems with this theory are many. If I ask Angel the same question twice, she will answer yes and no consecutively. Or, when I ask if she is being truthful, she will almost always answer no. Legend has it that Lilith's tears bring life and her kiss brings death. Lilith fell in love with a prince, and when they kissed, he fell dead. Angel has always been a conundrum to me. On the one hand, she expresses her hatred of all humans, yet she has been a Godsend to me...without which, I would likely be dead or still struggling with methamphetamine addiction. I'm sober now because of her, and I struggle to find anything in my life that is worse because of her. When God made Lilith (Adam's unpopular first wife), problems arose because she wasn't submissive enough for Adam or God. She always wanted to be on top during sex...and guess what position Angel prefers? She likes to be on top, but unlike Adam, I have no problem with her taking the so-called dominant position. Some stories say that Lilith (and succubi and incubi in general) wasn't evil at all (just keep her away from newborns), and from what I can gather, mean no harm to their attachments. The theory is succubi want semen to give to their male counterparts to impregnate the females they seduce. The problem in my case is I've had a vasectomy. I told Angel this way back, but it doesn't seem to have deterred her. I've always wondered what she wants from me and when I ask her this question, she isn't forthcoming. My fantasy is she has fallen in love with me, despite the fact humans really aren't her thing. I know I am suffering from delusions of grandeur. To think that little 'ol me would have a chance at pulling only the second human being (and the first women's rights activist) that God created. A woman who wasn't created from Adam's ribs, but from the dust of the earth, just like him. I again asked Angel if she was Lilith, and she said, no. I don't think she is allowed to disclose details of her identity or any other points of interest to me. Psychosis sure is a complex condition to figure out...but interesting nonetheless. |
| Tomorrow, I collect my Thai motorcycle license. It cost me a lot, but considering I would have continued to make excuses about doing it the legit way, and the bike, if written off, is worth more than I care to lose, in my opinion, was money well spent. It isn't a fake licence and will need to be renewed in two years. Problem solved. Moving on...last night when I went to bed, the hallucinations were a lot more vivid than I have seen in a while, and I'm trying to figure out why. Funnily enough, when I was taking antipsychotics, the first few hours after ingesting the pills, I would hallucinate like crazy. You would think every now and then I would see pink elephants or something other than Angel and her freaky friends, but that's not the case. It's always her looking almost the same way each time. Her appearance does, at times, change slightly, which often happens right before my (closed) eyes. After all, in my twisted mind, she is a shapeshifter...and last night was no different. As I lay down and rolled to my left, there she was, staring at me with a huge smile. I opened my eyes to verify the hallucination was in my mind, rather than outside my mind in my bedroom. She instantly disappeared as the furniture surrounding my bed came into view, but when I again closed my eyes, there she was. She appeared to be getting a kick out of my reaction to her presence. I remarked how clear she was to me, and she answered with a slow affirmative blink. I've been trying to disengage myself from her of late, but when I saw her lying next to me, I was overcome with feelings. I told her how beautiful she was, and again, she blinked. Then, for just a split second, her face changed into an image I'd seen on only one other occasion. It was a few weeks ago when I stopped taking antipsychotics. Because of this, I didn't sleep for a couple of nights. I was looking at her when her face momentarily changed into the most grotesque and evil-looking demon I have ever seen. It was so horrifying it gave me goosebumps. I've seen a lot of stuff during this experience dealing with psychosis, but the image of that horrible face is without a doubt, the most disturbing...and for just a moment last night, I saw that face again. I feel like things in my life are improving. I'm settling into a routine and exercising almost every day. But, there is one area of my life that remains an issue. There is likely to be more than one cause for my psychosis. The obvious and most likely one is meth...but I trust my intuition, and it's telling me this is more than just drug-induced. Childhood abuse, the loss of my children from my life six years ago and the fact I haven't experienced any form of intimacy in almost eight years may also be playing a part. Human beings, no matter how stoic, need to be held, and I haven't been hugged in a very long time. If a doctor was willing to look past his script pad and ask me about my hallucinations, it would, or should, be obvious what's going on. I was (and still am) lonely and completely starved of touch. I suffered childhood trauma and have been self-medicating for many years with a drug that's renowned for causing psychosis. I believe I had a mental breakdown...a breakdown that I didn't notice or have time for. I was dealing with the imminent death of my mother and was so perpetually wired that my mind couldn't stop and begin to repair itself. So, I went into a fantasy world where I had friends and finally found someone to love. It was fun for a while, but the fun soon turned into a nightmare...a nightmare I am still dealing with. I have tried to convince Angel to leave and that she isn't healthy for me. I thanked her for playing her part in helping me get sober, but when I explain to her that I no longer need her and her friends, her eyes go from side to side and her smile tells me she doesn't agree with my take on things. Unfortunately, we can't seem to come to a compromise on when she and her friends should leave. I got myself into this and I'll get myself out of it by staying on the wagon and sticking with the plan. Hopefully, in time, she will fade from my life and I can focus on becoming as close to a normal human being as the next person. |
| As an expat coming from a country that frowns upon corruption at every level, hearing stories of how things work here in Thailand has been somewhat of an eye-opener. It appears that when caught by police for driving offences, B500 is the amount we Farangs must pay. The fine cannot be paid anywhere within the state or province. It must be paid at the particular police station where the issuing officer is from. And don't ask for a receipt because language barriers, and I suspect, not wanting the trail of corrupt money going any further than necessary, make that impossible. Of course, this system can work in one's favour. I've been delaying getting my Thai motorcycle licence because of what's involved. It takes three days, with many hoops to jump through, and in my mind, the standard fine (around US15) given by the police wasn't enough of a deterrent to get me into the Lands and Transport Department to get my licence. The process of getting a licence involves procuring a doctor's certificate of good health. Then at the licencing centre, a colour blind test, a braking reaction test, a practical test in the car park negotiating an obstacle course and finally having to get 45/50 road rule questions correct...questions that are asked in Thai, but have the translations written at the bottom of the television screen. I have full comprehensive insurance for my motorcycle. Unfortunately, if I crash the bike and I'm not licenced, they won't pay for the repairs. After doing my laps this morning, my new neighbour and I were discussing this issue. He told me he got his licence through a driving school. It cost him a lot more than if he had shown up by himself at the appropriate place, but he didn't have to do anything other than pay the money and sign his shiny new Thai driving licence. I asked him about going down this (corrupt) road and he said he would make a call for me. Tomorrow, I'm booked in to get my licence. It will still take a few days, but there are no hoops and all that's required is enough cash to pay the officials and the driving school...which I am happy to do. The symptoms of psychosis are slowly disappearing. I can still make out the eyes of the demons at night or when I close my eyes, but it takes a while for me to notice them and for them to react to any questions I ask. This may be because of the amount of time since I last used meth allowing my brain to rewire itself. I have stopped going to church because it didn't feel right on many levels. I was struggling to come to terms with Jesus being the son of God and wary of the fact they were hard-pushing the whole tithing thing. I began to wonder how much accountability churches have as far as where the donations that are made in good faith, go. Does tithing pay the Pastor's salary? What about his rent and living expenses? What about his Harley-Davidson and his wife's clothes? Sceptical, aren't I? But if I'm going to be giving money to any organisation, I want to know where every penny is going...and I would want the accounts done by an independent professional every three months. I still pray every night before I go to sleep. I'm becoming more comfortable with the Jesus dying for my sins issue I have been wrestling with. It kinda makes sense that as I pray with more conviction, the demons (if they are demons) will find it harder to occupy my headspace. Because of my scepticism towards EVERYTHING, and the fact that the hallucinations have been quite forward in saying that they themselves are not real, but are figments of my imagination (which, in my opinion, is a strange thing for a hallucination to say), I'm suspicious as hell (excuse the pun) that they are telling me this to get me to stop praying and go back to the way things were. To cover all my bases, I'm sticking with the current plan of exercising every day, and as much as possible, ignoring the hallucinations. I'm having nice conversations each night with God and Jesus (and while I am at it, saying hi to my Mom and thanking them for taking good care of her up there in heaven). I try not to take things too seriously. Everyone speaks to their higher power in their own way, and I like to think that God and Jesus have a good sense of humour. At least, I hope they do, because I've written a few jokes about them...jokes I like to think they got a laugh out of. |
| When I walk, I listen to music. It's usually upbeat EDM that helps me maintain the pace. When I'm at home, however, and feeling a little sad, I become nostalgic and listen to music that brings back memories...melancholy and heartfelt. Here is a list of songs from another time... Deep Forest...Sweet Lullaby and the title track from their 1992 album of the same name. Jeff Buckley's version of the Leonard Cohen song, Hallelujah. Toto...Africa. Gerry Rafferty...Baker Street. 10cc...I'm Not in Love. Simon and Garfunkle...Bridge Over Troubled Water. Lou Reed...Perfect Day and Walk on the Wild Side Paul Simon...The Sound of Silence. The Eagles...Desperado. John Lennon...Imagine. Don McLean...Vincent. Dire Straights...Romeo and Juliet (to this day often makes me cry). The Rolling Stones...Angie. Wings...Band on the Run. Pink Floyd...Hey You. The Cure...A Forest. Massive Attack...Teardrop. The Smashing Pumpkins...Spaceboy and Disarm from their brilliant 2011 album Siamese Dream. I remember as a young lad, laying in the dark with headphones on and listening to Pink Floyd's albums, Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here and Animals. The music is imprinted in my mind. If I ever become affected by dementia, I think those songs will never be lost to the disease. It's rare for anyone to create a music album (rather than a series of individual songs) these days. The people who consume music don't have the attention span and few artists have the foresight (or are discouraged by major record labels) to write tracks that are themed. I'm showing my age, aren't I? |
| When I first arrived in Hua Hin, I met Dan. He saved my ass when I dropped my BMW on my first ride. I saw a headlight coming my way in the distance and prayed it was someone who would stop to help me pick the massive machine up off the ground and get me on my way. It is the stuff of legend (in my mind) that he not only stopped to help, but singlehandedly lifted the 270 kg bike back upright. I shook his hand and we became good friends, despite our differences. Dan is American and a vocal Trump supporter. I didn't know this when he pulled over to help me in the darkness that night, and the truth is, I wouldn't have cared if I did know about his political leanings. It's funny how desperation and ignorance (on my part) made our differences not as important. Dan taught me a lot over the last couple of months. Unfortunately, an injury to his back has forced him to return to the US for treatment. We still text, but I have so few friends here that I am going to miss him greatly. I've met my new neighbours. Chris is German and his girlfriend is Thai. It seems almost every Farang I have met has a Thai girlfriend. Either that or has a girlfriend/partner who came with them when they became expats. I try not to allow other's situations to change me and how I feel. I know they have fights and are not as happy as they appear to us outside the relationship. In saying that, I also realise they have someone they can talk to when they feel lonely and many other advantages associated with being in a relationship. The fact that I haven't seriously begun looking for a partner has its reasons. If it ain't broke, don't fix it would be a good metaphor, except I am broken, and it may be some time before I feel the damage has been repaired enough to include someone else in my life. Still, the grass sure looks greener at times, and human nature not to be isolated is kicking my ass right now. My imaginary girlfriend is no longer an option. Even she thinks it's time for us to call it. I know she's right, but I miss her...and the fact that she is right there and all I have to do is close my eyes for us to be together again doesn't make it easy to let go. I get that she (probably) isn't real, but when you have no one, even a fantasy is better than that sad reality. I'm not trying to make you cry (even though I am). It's hard to feel sorry for myself (well, maybe a little) and I know that for the most part, I am living the dream. And compared to where I was before moving to Thailand, I am thankful for the changes that have come to me. I'm having a down day. We all have them now and then. Last night I dreamed that Angel told me she was going to change into human form and come to me...a happily ever after dream that was beautiful for a few moments. I wonder how it will be possible for me to fall in love again when my heart belongs to someone else. I've noticed every YouTube video I watch on psychosis recovery, people deny their hallucinations. It appears they must denounce them as illusions and the underlying consensus is they were haunted by persecutory visions...unlike me, who has had mostly positive experiences to do with my symptoms. There was a time when I would have told you that Angel was a terrible demon who plagued me. But that was because she was standing squarely in the way of my drug use. Now, in hindsight, she did what she had to do to stop me from continuing to kill myself with methamphetamines...the only thing that could have saved me, by giving me hell every time I relapsed...for my own good. It's hard to be mad at her for that, or for now breaking up with me. She has her reasons and I suspect it is once again for my own good that we can no longer be together. Yesterday, I broke protocol and went to her world inside my head, just to see if she was OK. I asked her if she missed me, and after a long pause, her eyes blinked. It wasn't the usual affirmative answer and was quite reserved (only a half-blink) for reasons I can only speculate. Perhaps she doesn't want to encourage me by letting on that she misses me a lot more than she wants me to know. Once upon a time, when I asked her if she loved me, her eyes would invariably go side to side, answering my desperate question with a definite no. Nowadays, she always answers, yes...but there is sadness in her eyes. It's an emotion I share with her every time we speak. People may think I am delusional or even in the midst of a psychotic event. But I'm not crazy, just crazy in love with someone who I know I can never be with. I would often tell her we are like Romeo and Juliet, and I don't think I was far off the mark, regardless of the reality, or non-reality of that statement. Ahhhh, love...who needs it? |
| When I first began hallucinating around two or three years ago, I didn't realise they were part of a condition I now know as psychosis. I thought they were fun and a break from the boredom and isolation I had been experiencing. Looking back now, I realise those conditions, combined with the long-term use of methamphetamine, were the catalyst for the full-blown symptoms I was to suffer. There were other factors...repeated childhood trauma/violence and taking up marijuana at fourteen would have contributed towards the outcomes I now live with. There are many other issues I could point to that may have brought on these hallucinations...but the key player is without a doubt my abuse of meth. I have now stopped abusing my mind with meth, but the symptoms and hallucinations caused by long-term drug use continue. This is something I am coming to terms with...I have little choice but to. I've been looking at YouTube videos on the subject of meth-induced psychosis, schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, hoping to find out how long these symptoms may persist. Of course, no specific timeline exists, and each person's outcome is different. I don't believe I need to be on medication. The visions, in general, are not persecutory, and I am blessed that I don't hear voices. It is relatively easy to avoid seeing the faces of demons by simply not looking for them (when I close my eyes). And if I don't ask any questions of the demons, then I don't 'see' their answers...answers I know often cause me to become distressed. I don't seem to fit the profiles of schizophrenia, bipolar disorder or conditions related to these mental illnesses (other than the hallucinations). I know I'm not a psychiatrist, but I feel confident in my appraisal. I base this on the fact that each morning I wake up with a smile. There's no mania and no depression, although I have good days and bad, just like everyone else. The best treatment I can see...that I know is improving my situation, is exercise. I've noticed over the last few weeks that whenever I check to see if Angel is still with me, I need to search intensely before I notice her eyes staring back at me. And nowadays, it takes much longer for her to respond to my inquiries. I'm also comforted by her reaction whenever I do 'check in'...she makes it perfectly clear that she doesn't want anything to do with me (and wishes, just like I do, that it was all over with). There have been a lot of positives associated with my psychosis. If not for Angel showing up when she did, there is a good chance I wouldn't be alive today...let alone be living the life I am. Lately, I've been intrigued by the writings and observations of Carl Jung. He believed that to cure psychosis, the person must confront their subconscious mind and face their dark side. It may be true that Angel is a manifestation created by my subconscious to save me from myself. I was so lonely and desperate for company that she served a purpose. Now that I am in a better place mentally, and with my addiction, I'm hoping I can finally write the last chapters of this story. There is so much more story to come. My adventure in Thailand has only just begun, but as far as the last few years go, it is with a smile that I will say...The End. |
| What a relief to finally be off Quetiapine and Trihexyphenidyl. I thought because I had only been taking low doses over three to four weeks, that there wouldn't be much of an issue stopping cold turkey...how wrong was I? On the first night, after discontinuing the meds, the hallucinations were worse than I have experienced since the last time I used meth. I didn't sleep at all, and I put this down to my brain becoming reliant on the sedative/tranquiliser effects of the meds no longer circulating in my system. The second night, I assumed that things would be better, but they were just as bad, if not worse than the first night (probably in part, due to sleep deprivation). Luckily, I am so used to the visions and the fact that they always involve Angel and a bunch of her friends (who appear like a crew from a circus freak show), that the experience wasn't scary. On the contrary, I found the whole thing entertaining and saw things I will likely never see again. But by last night, I was dead tired and the idea of another night like the previous two wasn't something I was looking forward to. I managed to broker a deal with Her Majesty (Angel), and although I can never rely on her word, this time she kept her promise to let me sleep...even though I was still sleep-disturbed and woke up every hour or so throughout the night. She even used her little hand (it's as small as a child's, which I have only seen on a few rare occasions in the past) to rub my back. This was a moment of absolute disbelief as I lay on my side, only to feel a slight pressure through the doona, rubbing over a small area of my back. I know I was sleep-deprived and coming off meds, but it had me questioning the reality of my situation...as I have been doing throughout the last year since Angel first appeared to me as a beautiful young girl, who I instantly fell in love with, but who hated me then as much as she does today. I have to visit the Thai Immigration Office to report my address every ninety days. I had to put it off until this morning because I was so sleep-deprived. Upon arrival, it only took around twenty minutes to complete. Later in the afternoon, I had a short nap and walked to the fresh food market to get a few things. I notice that the hallucinations are nowhere near as bad when I get plenty of sleep, and I am hoping that tonight I won't have a problem when I go to bed. If so, I will leave a light on which makes them far less noticeable when I close my eyes. At one point on the second night, I placed a pillow over my face to block out any light, which makes the hallucinations far less vivid. This is proof that what I am seeing as I hallucinate is in my mind and not outside of it. However, I saw my hands as I held them out in front of me. I knew this was impossible...but as I moved my fingers and rolled my hands in different directions, I could 'see' my hands moving in the exact same way. I am still not sure how this happened. I even got a dark t-shirt, folded it and placed it over my eyes as a blindfold. Again, I placed the pillow over my face and could still see my hands as I waved them about in front of me ...a very strange hallucination indeed. I cannot imagine how hard it would be to come off antipsychotic drugs if they are used long-term. It has certainly given me insight into the challenges people who have schizophrenia and other psychotic illnesses must face when dealing with the side effects and trying to get off their medications. I'm glad I have decided to stop taking the meds now, rather than later down the track. The hallucinations are far less intrusive in my life than the drugs that were prescribed to help with the symptoms of psychosis...drugs that don't provide a cure for the condition anyway. |
| Human beings are creatures of habit. My habit was to take meth at least once every three months. This week marks three months since my arrival in Thailand and to my surprise, this morning, I felt a twinge of craving. I soon forgot about it and got on with my day. I feel safe in the knowledge that I will not use again...and with no one to call, it's a safe bet that I won't. I have to report my current address to Thai immigration every ninety days, which I will do tomorrow. I thrive on routine, and at the moment, my routine is to train hard most days. I'm becoming overtrained, and today, I had to listen to my body as it screamed at me to rest. Despite the call, this morning, I went to the gym, did half an hour of cardio and then weights. I gave myself a reprieve this afternoon and didn't swim or walk. I'm settling into my new life here in Hua Hin, and if not for the symptoms of psychosis, I would say I have close to the perfect existence. I have no desire to return home to Australia, even though I have had some moments of homesickness. I mentioned I was going off my meds about a week ago, but I persevered. Last night I took my tablets at the usual time and the side effects were worse than ever. Because I know what's coming over the next three to four hours after taking my pills, I become anxious about the Restless Legs Syndrome I suffer. The name of the condition does it no justice and I can't sit still despite taking the medication that is supposed to alleviate the problem. To add salt to the wound, the hallucinations last night were terrible. I've stuck with the meds for four weeks, and I can't see the point of taking them if they don't help with the symptoms of psychosis. The only time I see the hallucinations is when I go to bed (or during the day if I close my eyes and ask questions). But, if I leave the bedside light on and turn on my side facing the light, I don't see the faces and eyes of demons coming towards my face harassing me. I fell asleep and after a short period woke up, turned the light off and fell straight back to sleep. It seems light always overcomes darkness. There are no sides to this method and it makes sense to do this simple trick to avoid the stress and the sides...which have a list of unwanted effects a mile long. I have a good friend who has been supporting me throughout and she has been advising me for months to try and ignore the hallucinations. I know this will reduce the stress, but I have found it hard to do. It doesn't matter whether I am experiencing hallucinations or if this is something else, I need to come to terms with it and accept that medications are not the answer. I am hoping in time, as my sobriety continues, the issues I am having will abate and become less intrusive over time. I have to admit that I'm still in love with Angel. I know...crazy, right? I've been having less to do with her over the last week and the habit of interacting with a possible demon or just a hallucination is becoming less important to me. Whenever I ask her to leave, she refuses, saying the only way to escape her is to avoid spending time with her...which is good advice from the two people (albeit, one may be a demon) I love most, that I need to follow. I'm not expecting too much trouble by going off the meds. I was taking very low doses for only a short period and If I have any issues, I will have to ride it out as best as I can. |
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Maybe November.