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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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| At my psyche appointment yesterday, I was told I would remain on the current meds. A new one called Trihexyphenidyl, which is for medication-induced Movement Disorder (or Parkinsonism) has also been prescribed. The antipsychotic causes the need to move my legs. It will take some time for the secondary meds to begin to work, so once again, I need to be patient. I believe it has to do with Dopamine uptake. I'm taking low doses of both meds. Around three weeks ago, I did a Google search for churches near me. I called the closest one and spoke to the Pastor for ten minutes. He seemed like a nice guy and I was invited to come and see what they were about. In the weeks following the call, I thought about my reasons for attending church. I must admit that I felt guilty, and if not for the fact I've been seeing hallucinations of demons, I doubt I would even contemplate it, let alone go. It makes sense that there must be a God if there are demons. This morning I threw a curveball question at Angel. "Do you want to come to church with me?" "No." Obviously. She isn't happy about me taking meds either but seems more bothered by Jesus than the chemical compounds I take (which so far only dulls the images and looks like a dark screen between her and me). At 9.45 am this morning I climbed on my bike and 'we' headed to church. It was very nice. I was introduced to most of the people there. It's a small congregation and that suits me fine. At one point, we were asked if there was anyone who needed prayers to come forward. I hesitated for a few moments before I went to the front and had hands on me. I was honest about my faith and it being low at best, and I would be lying if I said I am a believer. This is why I was hesitant. How can I expect something like prayer to work if I don't truly believe in the doctrine of Christianity...that Jesus died on the cross for my sins? I can get my head around a higher power/creator, but I struggle with Jesus being the son of God. They were very compassionate and I felt good because I didn't lie about the difficulty I have believing what is written in the bible...I mean, I've never even read the book. It was nice, however, to get out and talk to people. A few times during the service I closed my eyes to see what Angel thought of it all, and for the first time in a long time, no eyes were looking back at me. She said she was there (and I believe her) and that it didn't bother her, but for the next few hours after the service, she didn't look healthy or happy. She is notorious for making up BS. I wouldn't be surprised if the prayers had no effect on her and she was play-acting the slow answers and the sickly look. I don't care if I am suffering from psychosis. The meds keep the visions down to a level I can deal with. But if this is some form of demonic possession (or whatever else it might be in a physical sense), I don't like the sound of that one bit and I am willing to try anything to get rid of it. The doctors are sure it's meth-induced psychosis and it is hard to argue otherwise. But those who are not trained to make an evidence-based assessment...people who look at the spiritual possibilities of what I am going through, may think otherwise. I'm still sitting on the fence, although if I was forced to make a guess, I would say this is something more than a mental illness. Life is good and the funny thing is if not for this entity, I would likely be dead and would never have made the choice to move to Thailand and get my life back on track. If not for the entity, I wouldn't have gone to church today. It's hard for me to hate it because it gave me the incentive I needed through sheer terror, rather than using a kid-glove approach. A weird thing happens whenever I take my meds (which for the first few hours is a little intense). My hallucinations look high...and if this is true, that means the entity may not simply be a spirit, but biological. That also explains why, whenever I was coming down, she would terrorise me...she was coming down too. I'm hoping this two-pronged attack will be enough to send her packing...but I have my doubts that's going to happen. |
| The Title is taken from Neil Young's song of the same name. As I look back in time with sober eyes, if only I had paid more regard to what I was doing to my brain, instead of focusing solely on the pleasure I received in the moment. Hindsight is not so wonderful now that it is too late to change past mistakes. Having to take medications that don't just filter the symptoms caused by my drug use, but limit me, sparking undesired effects like drowsiness, confusion, uncomfortable leg pain and simply going through the motions, rather than truly living this newfound life I have fought hard to achieve, wasn't a consideration. Are...regrets. I have always wondered about regret. Some say they have none, and I find it hard to fathom how anyone could go through life without at least one. Yes, I can see that if we were to change the course of our past, we wouldn't be where we are now. But surely, there have to be things we look back on and wish we had done differently. I know I have many of these moments and they are not just drug-related. I get that there is no sense pondering them, other than to revise the lessons to ensure we hold onto the positives we learned...which is the only thing I can see where regret has some benefit. We are a lot like Ameoba swimming around on a plate (ironic considering that's what we once were... allegedly), bumping into each other and thereby suffering and causing some damage, and yet, taking something away from the experience. Should causing hurt and pain to others be something we regret? When the fact is they also caused us hurt and pain before moving on. Is pain a necessity in life? Is it God's way of reminding us that we are still alive? Is pain and regret essential to our development as human beings? Does the saying, 'that which does not kill you makes you stronger' apply in all cases of human and chemical interaction? I am wiser now than at any time during my nearly sixty years on this planet, and I wonder if I would be as wise if I had not chosen to self-medicate, and instead, sought the help I am now receiving earlier. The reality is that no one knows what or where we would be if we had in the past, made different decisions. The butterfly effect comes to mind, where even the smallest of changes could make huge differences to our present...if we indeed had a present, considering the possible outcomes. To live each moment like it could be your last. Breathe and appreciate that small yet huge thing that few of us pay any attention to until we truly understand what that means. I could complain, but I am not going to. I brought this situation on myself. Sure, there were circumstances I could hold up and say that's why. I could use my present situation as an excuse to feel sorry for myself, something I have done so many times in the past. But, what use is complaining? Is the glass half empty? Or half full? Yes is the answer on both counts. I am so lucky to be alive after a lifetime of taking drugs that could easily have killed me. And so, given these words I write to gain clarity, I choose to look at the positives. I'm now under the guidance and treatment of someone I pray knows what they are doing. Someone I hope has my best interests at heart. I no longer need to dull my psyche to avoid feelings of regret. I'm no longer so bored that drugs are a better option than spending time alone...to avoid feelings of loneliness. I'm still alone, per se, but no longer lonely, and that is something I hold onto with all my might. Abandonment will come again. Regret will too. But these things have both positive and negative connotations attached, and it is up to me to choose which I focus on. |
| So much for going off meds...it only lasted 24 hours before I was back on them again. Why? The hallucinations wouldn't leave me alone and forced the decision. The strangest thing happens when I take my meds. Taking a whole tablet (200mg) causes not just me, but the entities/demons to hallucinate as well. When I close my eyes to see what they are up to, I see their eyes bulging and struggling to focus. They look for all the world like they are hallucinating and are very high. I'm not sure if my taking meds is supposed to get my hallucinations off their heads, but that's exactly what it looks like from my perspective. Another thing I notice whilst their eyes are lolling about, is they are more cooperative and possibly truthful when I ask them questions. But, it appears they have found a way around this by answering yes and then no, on repeat when I push them for answers. They often did that anyway, unless I asked questions like, "Are you beautiful?" "Yes." "Are you smart?" "Yes." And so on. Or the opposite would bring a series of answers to the negative. The best thing that happens when I take my meds is there appears a dark screen between them and me. I can still see them, but it is faint. Unfortunately, I've been forced to take the tablets earlier, rather than just before bed. The reason is that within an hour or two of ingestion, my legs begin to ache (restless leg syndrome on steroids). A condition I inherited from my father...which is exasperated by the compound I am taking. I can't lay still, and it is much easier to tolerate when I'm moving about, rather than laying still. The downside is by the time I do go to bed, the effectiveness of the drug is somewhat diminished, and so the hallucinations are more active and able to attack me when I close my eyes while trying to get to sleep. To overcome this, I cut a tablet in half and keep it by my bedside...just in case. I've tried using this as a threat to my imaginary, drug-addled and psychotic friends, but they refuse to make deals with humans, no matter how much they stand to gain. When I ask them about my continuing to take meds, they always say no. But this lack of enthusiasm doesn't transcend to compromise of any sort. There are other benefits to continuing the medication. I feel awesome during the day. It's only the mornings when I'm a bit groggy, but once I've had breakfast my head clears and I can go about my day unimpeded. Yesterday I decided to take an entire day off training. It was hard for me to do because of the progress I have been making, but this morning at the gym, I felt great and had energy to burn...three steps forward and one step back seems the best course of action. Perhaps one day off a week will be better in the long run. In any case...things are going well for me in Thailand. I had to apply for a residency certificate to get my bike registered in my name (it's been in the dealership's name until now) and get my driver's licence. I've been riding around without a Thai licence for two months, and this is something I need to change to avoid being fined by Tahi police when I eventually get pulled over. I stand out like a sore thumb. They call my bike a 'big bike' (which is anything bigger than a scooter), but mine is a giant bike compared to everyone else on the road...and once I have those two duties done and dusted, I will be free to legally explore SE Asia. |
| The meds are having a profound effect on my memory, especially in the mornings. And because of the restless leg syndrome (more painful legs syndrome), it is taking me a long time to get to sleep. The result is I'm sleeping longer in the mornings. Compounding these issues is the fog I am wading through when I wake up. I am not happy with the medication. I've stuck with it for five days, but I'm becoming anxious about taking it because I know what will come over the next three to four hours. It is working as far as making the hallucinations fade. But they are still there behind a dark screen and Angel still answers questions in the same vane as she always has...negatively about me and positively about her. The medication has had some positive outcomes. I'm still training hard and overall I feel great. I'm paying little attention to the visions behind closed eyes. My energy hasn't been affected, and once I get through the foggy morning, everything else is fine. But, the leg thing is awful, and as much as I don't want to discontinue taking the pills, I'm at the end of my tether. I have another appointment with the psyche on the 25th. At this point, I'm more concerned about the side effects (or effects) of these antipsychotic drugs, than I ever was about dealing with Angel. From tonight, I'm going to discontinue taking Quetiapine. I know the doctor will recommend another antipsychotic or prescribe a medication to deal with the pain in my legs. I'm going to have to decide the better of two evils. Dealing with Angel was, by and large, my problem, in so far as she only caused me grief at night before sleep (how ironic it's the same as the meds). The rest of the time, it was me stupidly engaging her. Going forward, I won't acknowledge her in any way shape or form and will not allow loneliness or boredom to become an excuse for engaging her. She isn't a problem regarding my day-to-day living. However, I'm still uncertain about if she is a hallucination or a demon, and this may present a problem further down the road. If that is true, and this is more than just a mental illness, it won't matter if I take antipsychotics or not, because the drugs only mask the visions, but change nothing else. These drugs are not a cure, and only relieve the symptoms and stress the hallucinations cause...which so far in my case, isn't that much. An interesting article about kickbacks made to Physicians...particularly in mental health. https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/cifamerica/2011/mar/15/psychology-heal... |
| Before I decided to get help for the symptoms of psychosis, I said I would follow the doctor's orders to the letter. Back then, I had no idea what the side effects of taking an antipsychotic like Quetiapine would be. Sides vary from person to person but are almost guaranteed to play a role in the process of being medicated for a mental illness. On that note, however, even though I have only been taking the medication for three nights, the symptoms/hallucinations are not as noticeable now as they were before. I'm not looking to converse with the entity as much and I'm not sure if this is a result of the meds, or if I am mentally breaking free from the allure of having an imaginary friend (who is not a good friend). I'm not putting too much thought into this because as far as I am concerned, any improvement is better than none at all...especially considering the pain (not literal pain, but a few hours of serious discomfort) I have to go through. I'm thankful that tonight it appears I am becoming accustomed to the dosage...although I am not out of the woods yet, and things can change pretty quickly once I go to bed. I had one look today and could faintly make out Angel's silhouette low and to the left in my field of vision. She looked like hell, and when I asked her if she was OK, her eyes went side to side very slowly. I told her I was sorry for doing this to her, and left it at that. Mental illness or a demonic presence doesn't mean I don't feel bad for doing to her, exactly what she promised all along she would do to me. A few days ago, I watched a video by a Pastor called Derek Prince. It centred on a prayer for expelling demons. I recited it, but one of the conditions was that I had to hate the demon. I admit, I struggled with that concept. Hating the demon (if it is a demon) isn't something I am comfortable with, and only lowers me down to its level. Turn the other cheek comes to mind. Many times I tried to convert this entity I call Angel, but to no avail. I would tell her she was beautiful, and then ask if I was, only to see her eyes moving side to side. Her actions strengthened my position that love will overcome hate, and light defeats darkness. There is no reason for me to fear her unless I allow her negativity to push love out of my heart and replace it with hatred. If this is not primarily a mental illness, she may yet get her way. I have laid with the devil, and done things I look back on with shame. Meth turned me into someone I am not...and do things I would never do if I wasn't under its influence. It is only now that I see just how deprived I was. I pray for forgiveness, but I do not expect that to happen. My faith is not strong, but I am determined to make up for the self-indulgent behaviour of my past. I'm not looking for redemption, I just want to help people. The main thing is that I forgive myself...the rest is mostly out of my control. Every day I draw breath, I set out to make the world a better place. I know I have said it before, but I am done with addiction in all its forms. The wheels are in motion, and although no one knows their future, I have hope that I will fulfil my goals before I die. |
| This is night three of taking Quetiapine, an antipsychotic drug used primarily to treat people with Schizophrenia, Bipolar Disorder, depression and psychosis. I took half a tablet an hour ago and am struggling to concentrate. The doctor advised me to take a whole tablet for each of the first three nights, then switch to half a tablet. On the first night, I took a full tablet, but it was too much. About an hour later I began to hallucinate (the tiles on the floor in my ensuite, which are white, turned a light shade of pink...and Angel's face appeared to form in the texture on the surface) and my legs were super restless. It felt like I needed to stretch them, but nothing could bring relief. Even worse was when I closed my eyes. I saw Angel completely wasted. Her eyes rolled around and were bulging out of her head. This went on for hours until the drug finally wore off and I fell asleep. Last night (night two), I reduced the dose to a half tablet. This was much better. I can (even now, if I close my eyes) see Angel, low and to the left in my field of vision. She's faded and is not a happy entity, but then she never was. I was told it would be six months before the meds could be stopped. And then, we would see what happens. I deliberately underplayed (to my doctor) my thoughts on what exactly it is that afflicts me. I didn't want him to think I was completely bonkers. That, and I want to remain as open-minded as possible. Telling him this or that, when I don't know what is real, is what I would expect someone who is delusional would do. It does seem strange though that the hallucinations appear to be wasted. They are not as easily detected now I am on medication. I'm trying not to engage with Angel, but that is easier said than done. As usual, my worst enemy is curiosity, and I will be the first to admit that I am, at best, reinforcing this delusional belief that a demon has taken up residence inside my head...and by continuously asking it questions and then getting answers in reply, I might be setting myself up for something I don't want to think about. |
| Hindsight? Why didn't I keep my big mouth shut and not brag about my physicality and such? Why did I invite something into my life just because I was lonely and didn't believe it could be real? I got through the workload today. After breakfast, I hit the gym and did half an hour of cardio, followed by a moderate weight session. I then returned to my abode, had lunch, swam laps and did three sets of twenty pool edge dips. I finished the day off with a walk to the local fresh food markets and back. I'm aching in places I didn't know could. My feet hurt and I have come to the realisation that I'm a fifty-nine-year-old man who is terrified of growing old. I don't regret the amount of exercise I'm doing, but I do regret saying that I am getting younger...when in fact, I aged another day today. I'm in denial and finding it hard to accept that one day soon, I'm going lose this battle for youth. My eyesight is getting worse and the strength I had a year or two ago, is waning. My right knee, right elbow and both shoulders complain every night when I lay down in bed. I refuse to take any pain relief because eventually, the pills won't work anyway. The symptoms of psychosis are still with me and show no signs of abating. The entity insists it is going nowhere, but I have a plan...only four more nights of torment before I see a doctor. Hopefully, he or she will prescribe medication that will relieve the symptoms...and if not, I'll travel to Phuket and buy up all the Diazepam I can get my hands on (no one in Hua Hin will sell me any). I also need to find a local English-speaking church...not as a backup per se, but it can't hurt and I need all the help I can enlist to overcome this problem. I'm tired of seeing demons every night when I close my eyes, and even though I know they can't hurt me (at least, I don't think they can), it is beginning to take a toll. It's become normal to see them, and even though I try to make light of it (for my own sake), the fear and anxiety I feel before going to bed isn't ideal...especially given how long it has been going on. I'm resilient, and no matter what happens, I won't give in to this illness/affliction/condition/infection. There is too much at stake...from my mental health to my soul. |
| There is something strange going on with me. It might be (it could only be) all in my mind, after all, isn't everything? But, I feel younger today than I did yesterday. And not just younger, but stronger and fitter. It could be put down to the fact that I am training like a MF, but I'm trying to fathom HOW I am accomplishing the extensive workload. In the past, I have done a lot of training. I know my body well, and when it comes to my physicality, something isn't adding up. I'm doing some serious training sessions each day (in the vicinity of three hours). The thing is that I'm not feeling fatigued at the end of the day like I should be. I'll be sixty soon, and even my libido has done a complete 180-degree turn. The only unfortunate thing about this is I still don't have a partner. And with an abundance of single Thai women hanging out in bars only a few minute's drive away, it is becoming very tempting to go check out what all these Farangs are getting into. There's a voice in my head that yells at me each time I begin to entertain the idea, telling me that I will be chewed up and spat out...a guppie in a tank full of sharks. Of course, this is something I cannot do (have sex with prostitutes). Why? Because I am stupid? Because I cannot face the reality that here, it is perfectly acceptable for an older and foreseeably richer Westerner to have a Thai Girlfriend much younger than himself and come to some mutual monetary arrangement. We (older men who should know better) want to have sex with young and beautiful Thai women, and they want (need) money to help support their families. It all looks fine on paper, but the reality, I feel, might not fit the page as well as the fleeting, dumbass idea does in my head. I may need to employ a guide...an old hand who can show me the ropes. I don't drink alcohol, so this reduces my Dutch courage levels significantly. Perhaps my best and wisest old friend (me) is right to tell me, "Don't go there, Neil!" The last time I had sex in the flesh and in person (entities/demons and an online friendship with benefits aside) was in November 2016. For those of you who are mathematically challenged, that's eight fucking (or not fucking) years. Now there were reasons why this was so. I was in love with a drug called Methamphetamine and nothing and no one could come between us. I also had the responsibility of caring for my Mom. But the main reason I never looked for someone during those eight years was because of my addiction. Now that all the aforementioned excuses I had to avoid intimacy are gone, I am struggling to find someone who is perfect for me in every way (please read facetiously). Oh, to finally meet that one person (the latest and hopefully last soulmate I will encounter) who compliments me physically, emotionally and mentally. But alas, although she may be out there somewhere, just waiting to ask me where I have been all her life, the reality is we might never bump into each other in the grocery store isles (with the right foodstuffs on board our respective trollies) or see and swipe the correct way (whichever way that is because I've never dared to put myself out there to be judged by everyone on a particular dating site as worthy or unworthy of giving or receiving love). Some people have given me sound advice and said if I am serious about finding someone, I need to pay to be on one of the more professional dating sites. To be perfectly honest, I don't think I am dating material. For a start, I still have a long way to go in my recovery. I have only just arrived in a new country to begin a new life, and I cannot help but think that meeting someone now might change the direction I am planning on taking...which is exploring Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos, Malaysia and perhaps even The Philippines. And that's just the beginning. If things settle down in Europe, I would love to visit Holland and Iceland. A dream would be to ride my bike through Switzerland and Finland during the summer months. All of these places I could go with a partner, but I feel like I shouldn't be afraid to do it on my own...and perhaps solo travelling is the best way to get the most out of an adventure. It wasn't until about two weeks ago that my body dealt me and my sex drive an unbeatable hand (excuse the pun), and now that my libido has decided to make a second coming (again...excuse the pun), has complicated matters beyond what I would have anticipated. I suppose this could be a post-midlife crisis...me buying a brand new motorcycle and all these thoughts of fucking hot Thai women. Perhaps the therapist I need to talk to might see these hallucinations of demonic entities as a lesser evil than my desire for fast adventure and sleeping with girls young enough to be my daughter as the main issue here. This is unlikely though because he probably supports a much younger Thai girlfriend and will say something like, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. To which I will reply, "But, Doc... what about all the STIs that a condom doesn't protect me from?" And he will roll his eyes at me, just like the other men I have asked that question whilst I have been here who don't even bother to wear a rubber. I thought life would get easier once I got meth out of my life...and it has, only to face the new challenges that have inevitably arisen, just when I thought I was home-free. |
| My training has hit overdrive—multiple daily sessions...swimming, weights and walking. My diet, since arriving in Thailand, has improved exponentially. No bread or butter. No oil or salt (other than if I eat out) and plenty of fruit and veg. Despite adding lean body tissue to my frame, I've lost over two kilos in a month. I now have a one-pack, with another five to go. I'm enjoying the work I'm putting in and especially the results. There's a long way to go. The hardest thing to get my head around is the ongoingness of training. It's difficult to remain motivated and get out there and train every day. For me, it's all about routine. If I can persevere for a week or two, then it becomes easier to keep it up. All it takes is a few lazy days that can easily lead to a week or two. Then a week or two can lead to a month...and so on. I'm surprised at how quickly I have bounced back from the Covid infection. I can still feel the lingering effects deep in my chest. When I am swimming laps and begin to breathe more deeply, I can hear a slight wheeze in my lungs. I will also cough up some phlegm between sets, but overall, I'm happy with my recovery. My general health has improved significantly since I left Australia...mostly because I no longer use methamphetamine. If it weren't for the persistent symptoms of psychosis, I would say I have made a miracle recovery. Ten days until I go to see a doctor about it. I am loath to take prescription drugs, but I am willing to do this if it helps get rid of these demonic hallucinations. I'm thankful I only see them at night and that for the most part, they don't bother me much. I don't hear voices, and the truth is, if not for my curiosity and stupidity in engaging with them, 90% of the time I wouldn't be aware of the eyes that answer my questions with a yes or no. I'm hopeful that by taking the lowest dosage of antipsychotic drugs that still affect the hallucinations and make them disappear, in time, I can be weaned off them and return to a normal life. I have been researching the topic of drug-induced (meth) psychosis and it can persist for over a year after discontinuing use. This means I may still have a while to go. In any case, I will be under the supervision of a medical professional and I will follow orders to the letter. At first (and even for some time after the symptoms appeared), I treated the whole thing lightly. I had no idea then that I would find myself in the position I am in now...with no way of controlling the psychosis other than through medication. I thought that once I stopped using meth and returned to normal sleep patterns (as had happened in the past), the symptoms would soon disappear. I wish I had been more aware of the long-term effects that meth psychosis can cause. Even now, whilst writing this, the delusional belief that this thing is real persists. And as bad as this sounds, I would rather have an ongoing but treatable mental illness than have this thing...this entity, become my reality. It's going to be a long ten days. Angel has been nice to me for the last day or two, and that's not a good thing (my knee has been hurting from all the training and when I ask her for pain relief, it instantly stops hurting). She doesn't want me to attend my appointment and that makes perfect sense. Even if she remains, hopefully, I won't be aware of her. And if she is real, this will cause her issues because I am her only focus. |
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