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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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| If there was a website that sold a vast array of different types of women (I'm not being sexist here) for men to choose from, I couldn't have ordered a better female than the one I got when I met and fell in love with Nada. This thought came to me early yesterday morning when I went to the bathroom and couldn't get back to sleep. In moments like this, I usually start a conversation with Angel (or one of her cohorts). I asked her/them (I can simply think and they hear me) if they had anything to do with me meeting Nada. The eyes I always see when mine are closed went side to side, indicating a negative answer. Then something occurred to me when I absentmindedly reached over and cupped Nada's cute little ass (she's been training hard lately and the results are both apparent and very alluring). As I looked into the darkness, the eyes that stared back at me turned purple. This is not unusual and is a normal reaction whenever the thought of sex comes to mind. The eyes look similar to small portals, and if I stare at them long enough, they flash bright colours, morphing from white to orange to blue and purple. I suddenly realised that the colours were pixelated, and it reminded me of an experience I had when I was around sixteen years old. I was smoking a lot of pot, and my two older friends and I would drive to a dirt road a few kilometres from our homes known as Dead Horse (for obvious reasons) to smoke pot. One night, the three of us were at Dead Horse and I was very stoned. I knew this because when I looked up I saw blue, red and green coloured lights all across the night sky. The blue lights dominated, and unlike stars, which are set out randomly, these lights were perfectly adjacent to each other and configured with remarkable order. I offhandedly mentioned to my friends to look up and see the blue lights and one of them said, in the most matter-of-fact way, “Blue Light Syndrome.” Like that was all the explanation that was required. At the time I thought, these guys knew way more than I did, and so accepted my condition as fact. It wasn’t until later they laughed at my naivety and told me they had made it up, and there were no blue lights. Once again, I accepted the diagnosis from the panel of experts and got on with life. The funny thing was, I had no idea what it was I was seeing until a few years later, when I finally recognised what they were...pixels. And considering I didn’t even know what pixels were back then, I had wondered about this ever since...and the best logic I came up with was...I was seeing the screen they were watching us on. Fast forward to yesterday, and I asked another question of my constant companions. "How long have you been with me?" Of course, this is not a question that can be answered with a yes, no or maybe/I don't know/care. So I refined it and asked, "Have you been with me all my life?" And the eyes smiled and blinked, "Yes." Who knows what to make of this? The mind is a strange place and we understand little about it or the universe we live in. But, it did give me food for thought. There is no doubt that whatever it is that I see saved my life by making the comedown so terrifying I had no choice but to stop (in my deranged/delusional opinion). And since quitting meth, there has been a huge shift (for the better) in the way these hallucinations (or whatever) relate to me. I'm not saying beings are watching our every move, or that we live in a simulation...but it is an interesting hypothesis. |
| Sooner or later, everybody will have a fall, and I've taken two in the last week. Admittedly, the first wasn't my fault. I sat down to eat breakfast and the chair came apart underneath me. It all happened in slow motion (unlike the second tumble of the week) and after hearing a sharp crack, I landed reasonably softly on the floor, surrounded by bits and pieces of Oak. I wasn't hurt but the chair is a write-off. Unfortunately, during the second fall, I didn't fare as well. It was Christmas day and Nada and I went for a walk to get my hair cut (many Thais don't close shop for Christmas). There were no footpaths, so we traversed along the main road, walking close to the edge of the road on the median strip. Doing this is risky business in Thailand because they use it as an extra lane for motorbikes. I was walking behind Nada. Half of my attention was behind me (listening for approaching bikes), and the rest was fixated on her ass (she was wearing a tiny pair of cut-off jeans). The next thing I knew I was sprawled on the ground with blood streaming from my left knee. My left hand was embedded with small stones and there was a lot of pain in my right knee. After Nada had helped me to my feet, she used a tissue to soak up the blood and we made our way slowly to the barber. We then returned home. Since then, my knee has been in a lot of pain. The grazes are superficial and have almost healed. But the right knee will take more time to mend. I'm still going for daily walks, albeit, a little slower than before. I'm on a waiting list for a knee replacement, which may or may not happen at some point in the future. I tore the ACL many years ago, and because I've had a lot of physiotherapy, I have learned what exercises help keep the knee strong. During the day I've been resting and intermittently doing exercises, in the hope of making a fast recovery. I could blame the traffic situation (and Thais for not obeying the road rules) for what happened. Or I could even blame myself for not paying attention to where I was going. But the real blame goes to Nada and those tiny shorts. I knew having a gorgeous Thai girlfriend could be financially hazardous, but I never dreamed it could be physically dangerous too. |
| It's been four months since Nada and I first met, and we are both feeling a little flat. Every month before Nada gets her period, she suffers from what she calls 'fever'. She has around two weeks (by my calculation) to go until she is due. Yesterday morning, she looked down and told me she had a fever. I don't have a thermometer, but I felt her head, and she wasn't hot. Despite this, she took some paracetamol and went to bed. And today, when she woke up, she still looked off. I'm not sure what is going on. If we were in Australia, I would take her to a doctor. But, we are not in Australia, and she isn't keen on the idea. A doctor is unlikely to diagnose what is happening anyway, so I will tell her to rest (getting her to stop can be challenging) and wait and see how she recovers. I must admit there are times when I miss being single, and it isn't just Nada's health issue, which is occurring more than I think is normal, that is causing me to feel this way. We have hit the wall, which upon reflection, was inevitable. We love each other dearly and there is no thought of breaking up. I wouldn't do that because the last few foreigners she dated either left or did things that made the relationship untenable. That said, unless I am genuinely happy, I cannot give 100% to this relationship, which is the minimum I have set for myself. I'm not searching for perfection, although I believe my girlfriend, in some ways, is. Nada had a difficult upbringing. She wasn't just poor, but her mother was strict and all the kids, at some point, were hit. She recently told me a story about when she was small. Nada was sick and they didn't have transport, so her father had to take her to a doctor in a nearby village. It was a long walk for a sick child, and because her Papa had a lot of work to do, he walked fast...constantly chastising his daughter along the way for walking too slowly. I'm not a therapist, and I cannot accurately pinpoint what is going on with Nada that she feels it is her responsibility to make the world, or at least, her little chunk of it, more beautiful/perfect. In some ways, I should be glad that my girlfriend is constantly cleaning the floor, cooking delicious meals, washing clothes (that usually includes soaking whites in bleach beforehand to remove any sign of discolouration), ironing and organising every detail to do with our household to perfection. The problem is that it doesn't make me feel good knowing (or suspecting) there are these underlying (probable) childhood issues driving this need to lay her hands on everything (whenever I help her she will invariably 'fix' my work afterwards), in order to make things right. In my opinion, she displays traits of OCD. I understand that most people have (at least to a certain degree) idiosyncracies of one kind or another. At what point habits become more than that is not for me to say, and unless the behaviour causes stress, then it shouldn't be an issue. But, knowing Nada's background (and that of my own because I too have a disorder), and the fact that she doesn't acknowledge or understand why she feels the way she does (unless I talk to her about how her constant need for perfection), then there will never be change. Small steps. When I first realised there was something more to this, I pushed (as best as I could given the language barrier) her to a point. Then the tears would flow and I would back down. Now, the waterworks have little effect, and it's amazing how quickly they disappear once she realises that fact. Almost every day, I feel the pull of drugs and the reality is that my disorder may never be cured. However, self-awareness of WHY I feel the way I do goes a long way towards helping to prevent relapse. I am hoping that in time, and with the right degree of encouragement, support and love, Nada too may one day gain insight into her need to control everything around her. |
| 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. |
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