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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 gets harder every time. Failing time and again depletes my morale. I am struggling to come up with words...staring blankly at the screen, not knowing what to say next. It's frightening, to say the least. The hope is I will recover my thoughts and get back to normal, but right now, I'm not sure if that will be the case. Darkness has replaced light. The clear vision I had before is now blurred. The confidence I had built up over the last three months is gone, and in its place, only questions remain. I am lost. Today, I took my first steps. I had run out of supplies and although I didn't want to go out in public, it was either that or scrape up whatever I could from what remained. I got in and out of the store as quickly as I could...eyes down. And this afternoon, I got out on my bike for a short ride. It was all I could manage to do. Tomorrow will be better. I have food in the house and hopefully, things will look a little less bleak than they do today. |
| First of all, let me apologise if there are any technical deficiencies in the words that follow. My brain is still very fuzzy, and even though my vision has almost returned to normal, everything is still more difficult than they were before this latest fall. In the past, post-relapse meant months of continued use, until once again, I decide to stop. A cycle I have repeated over and over without finding a way to break it. Ninety days off is a great achievement, but only if followed by another ninety days of not using drugs. I need help...serious help. A few months ago, I was considering rehab, but with my mother's health in decline, I didn't follow it up. This episode has taught me something...it isn't when I initially stop using that I need that kind of intervention. It is around the ninety-day mark after I stop that I need that intensive counselling. The problems with this are many, and for now, I am safe from making this kind of mistake again. I still have a lot to do. Because of this, I've decided to forego my holiday, so I can take a bit more time now to recover. |
| I thought I knew what rock bottom would be like...but that was wishful thinking. No one knows what that popular saying really is until they are there...and then, you know. And the thought keeps occurring to me if I will ever go there again. Even madness cannot hold a shine on addiction when it comes to sheer perspicacity. 'One more time' sounded like a good enough excuse to tell anyone who needed to know. Of course, I would lie to the rest. Omission is the key to a successful drug binge. As I try to write this post, I have no depth perception and both hands have no feeling from my middle fingers to the heel. My focus is blunted to the point where I am struggling to think and if I were to share with you all of the things that happened to me to cause these (and many others) symptoms, you would be shocked. In my mind, I was somewhere else. I don't really know where, but it wasn't here in my home. As fortune would have it, the meth I had must have been very strong, and because I hadn't had any during the previous three months (and the fact that we always begin where we left off), the perfect storm was brewing and about to let all hell loose upon my soul. Once I had that first dose, all logic and any common sense went out the door. It wasn't until later, after having more meth, that I realised there was something in my eye. When I went to look in the mirror, it wasn't a spec of dust, but something alive and evil. I knew it couldn't remain in there, so I began pulling out all the eyelashes on the top rim with a pair of tweezers to somehow make it leave. After God knows how long I was digging around in my eye, I stopped. But I knew that thing was still in there behind my eyeball and so, for three days, I tried to get that thing out of my eye. I'm lucky not to be blinded by my persistence. I know that thing is still in there, but at least now I have its respect. It's seen what I am willing to do, and the pain I am willing to go through to try and rid myself of its presence. I'm a mess...no, I am beyond anything I could ever have imagined. Yesterday, I broke down, and it took a long time to regather myself. I felt more alone then than I have in my entire life. I needed someone to hold me and tell me I was going to be alright. But there was no one and the only way to stop what was going on was to call myself a loser and that I was soft. I had to do something. I apologise to everyone for failing again. But this is not the end. I won't stop trying until I am either dead or get meth out of my life forever.. |
| Reality can be a scary thing to face. For many years, it's been my dream to move to Thailand and begin a new life. But now things are becoming irreversible as a matter of course, I am shitting my pants in fear. Ideally (plan A), would have been to keep my home, rent it out and then, if things go awry, that home becomes plan B. Unfortunately, this isn't possible, so I am just going to have to face my fear and allow the future to be a little less structured than I would like...I think they call it winging it. I have time before the inevitable sale of the house and my relocation. I need to use the time wisely, whilst remaining committed and on track because this isn't the one where I want to drop the ball. There is too much at stake (a roof over my head) to even consider. I know I will be OK. I know there will be days when I will question my decisions I know how much hard work lies ahead...but, I also know that once I achieve my goals, I will look back and be proud...and hopefully, happy. |
| I attended my Tuesday group meeting tonight, and isn't it typical in life that there will always be positives and negatives attached to everything we do? The positives of these group sessions are accountability, a sense of purpose that we are all fighting a familiar foe, receiving support and having professional input, as opposed to seeing things only from our own experiences. The negatives are becoming triggered when others speak of their drug use, sharing the time, when one on one sessions may get to the crux of things more rapidly (I'm currently on a waiting list), and saying things that are or may be viewed as inappropriate by others, within the context of a group setting...things that likely wouldn't be as sensitive if it was just me and a Councillor present. There's a couple who also attend the group who just happen to live in the next street to me. They are a bit younger than I am and tonight, they were obviously arguing. The guy and I get along Ok. We have a common interest other than our addiction, and that is training. Last week we exchanged numbers, but I didn't make an effort to call him, which tonight he questioned. In my mind, I have deliberately pushed people who use away, and inviting him into my life right now could very well backfire. If we hang out and both happen to be having a bad day, it could spell disaster. At the moment (and this happened to me just today), if I have a moment of weakness, I simply don't have any people to call. This is a good thing because, after a short period of time, those feelings disappear. It's possible that we might be a good influence on each other, but on the other hand, the opposite may be true if we are both having a moment of weakness and decide to make a poor choice. I believe he still has drug contacts he can call. It's been around three months since I last used (but I'm unsure about the exact length of time), and it's only been three or four weeks for them. I don't know if becoming friends with them at this point in time is a good idea or not. I'm wary, and so I should be, but it would be great to have someone to talk to and train with. There are real risks involved and worst-case scenario, it has definite potential to derail my progress. Life...there's always something. |
| A blog post (edited) from the 21st of September 2021...which just happened to be my 57th birthday. I remember when my brother, who is an alcoholic, stopped drinking sixteen years ago. No one was more relieved than I was because he wasn't a nice drunk and growing up with him was a nightmare if/when he was under the influence. He counted the days, weeks and years (he still does) since his last drink. I'm wondering if this helps, or if it is just a badge of honour. AA has a twelve-step recovery program and this may have something to do with it. Sure, he doesn't drink now, but he still smokes cigarettes, and has done since he was around twelve years old. One day, I asked him about his sobriety. I told him that I was proud of him for quitting alcohol because I imagine that is not an easy thing to do. But my question to him was, how can he tell people he is clean and sober, when in fact, he is addicted to nicotine? He didn't react well to my question and has rarely spoken to me since. At the time, he said that alcohol changes a person's behaviour when they are under the influence, whereas he can have a ciggie and remain perfectly normal. So, I said to him, "Give me your pack of cigarettes and let's see if your behaviour changes in the coming hours and days." To me, there is very little difference between the substances people choose to use/abuse. If a person is addicted to heroin, eventually they need the drug in order to function...to remain normal. Most drugs follow along similar lines and once tolerance overtakes the high, all that remains is normality and in my case, you wouldn't know I was high unless I wanted you to know. Of course, my brother didn't participate in the experiment (as I knew he wouldn't), but it begs the question...what exactly is sobriety? In many cases, addicts will simply substitute one substance for another and whilst I am in no position to criticise anyone for their personal choices, jumping from drug to drug (unless it is monitored by health care professionals, such as in the case of a methadone program), is something I find difficult to get on board with. Strangely enough, another reason (justification) my brother used to continue poisoning his body with the nine thousand or so chemicals contained in every cigarette, was because he had quit drinking, and smoking was his reward, and no one was going to take that away from him...fair enough I suppose. We all have our own outcomes, and if a person doesn't want to do something, they simply won't do it. I thought about my own abuse of meth and the excuse my brother used to continue to smoke when it dawned on me that I have been doing the exact same thing for years. My excuse was that I don't drink alcohol, smoke pot, use pharmaceuticals or heroin...blah blah blah...so, that justified my use of meth. Thinking...it was all I had left to get by on and I'll be damned if I was going to give up the one thing that brought a little joy and comfort to my life...classic denial. It's hard to see things when they happen right under your own nose, yet we see other's problems because for one, it's easier to see them from a distance, and, it's much easier to point out someone else's faults and flaws, than it is to face up to our own. Political correctness will likely see the term 'sober' gone, replaced by some other acronym, which I don't mind. I mean, what is it but a word? I choose not to use any chemical that causes dependence or changes me in a way that is not healthy or positive for life. And in doing so, I don't just choose life, I choose a better life. |
| I've had a better day today. I did weights and went for a ride. I also got the glass door lock changed after a lot of mucking around. I can't bring myself to book a holiday yet. There's too much going on and I don't want to regret making plans only to have them come to nothing but disappointment. I'll hang in there and wait until I am more confident about how things are going before following through with a firm booking for flights and accommodation. It sucks, but I can't see any other way around it right now. I know I need a break, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. One foot in front of the other and don't use drugs. |
| I'm all over the show at the moment. Up one minute and down the next. It's to be expected, I suppose. Brain chemistry isn't going to revert instantly back to normal. The highs and the lows continue and will do for a while yet, I assume. I feel very alone right now. I'm missing Mom, and even missing going to visit her. I made some friends where she lived, but I can't see myself going there now that she's gone. It's a sad place really, where everyone is just waiting to die. I was so happy when my family accepted the payout offer, but it means this house, my home for the last ten years and the place I grew up in, will soon be sold, and this new life I have been looking forward to for so long, will become a reality. Isn't it funny how we dream of this or that, but when that reality looms, we realise exactly what it is we must sacrifice in order to achieve it? I'm scared of what I might find. What if this life in paradise isn't the life I foresaw? Yes, I will have more money once my home is sold, but money doesn't guarantee happiness, and I would rather be happy than rich. These people I plan on helping may see me as someone to try and take advantage of...in fact, there will be those who will try. What that will do to my headspace is anyone's guess. I've never been good with uncertainty, and all this uncertainty is playing havoc with my life right now. I know in my heart things will be Ok...but in my head, I am not so sure. |
| I have a sore face. You know that feeling when you have been smiling so hard that your face aches? Well, I got that and some. It's possible I may be suffering from a condition known as, Too Much Happiness Disorder. I will need to see my doctor and seek medical advice on how to relieve these symptoms of incredible joy and happiness. And, it's not just my face that TMHD is affecting, but my weight sessions as well. In between sets, when I should be resting, I am overwhelmed by an uncontrollable urge to dance (this, despite my right knee vehemently complaining about it). It is possible this dancing thing may be related to the ultra-cool tracks I have playing on my JBL Xtreme3 speaker, but I suspect there's more than just seriously good taste in music going on here. There are other symptoms...allow me to share. When I wake up...there are no feelings of negativity. And, I've developed an eating disorder. I now crave fruit and nuts and other healthy food groups, and these are seriously worrying devolutions indeed. Also, I have completely gone off chocolate. Then, this afternoon, a dramatic development...I began frothing bubbles of effervescence. Add to all this, I've lost weight and walk around like I own the joint (which could be attributed to the fact that I do). And now, whenever I go out in public, I make sure I am dressed well and that I smell good (I told you this was serious). I'm definitely a worry to all who cross my path because I've noticed others smiling just as much as I am and I think it may be contagious. If I stop writing this blog, you will know that I have succumbed to this disorder and you will likely find me somewhere in SE Asia, convalescing poolside and trying not to smile so much that it hurts. |
| A good day was had...I have one leg shorter than the other by one inch. This makes every pair of shoes I buy that much more expensive. The process is buy a pair of runners, hand them over to my shoe guy and hope they turn out ok. No guarantees though, and a $150 pair of New Balance shoes (plus another $150 to build them up) are a gamble I have no choice but to take if they are ruined in the process. So, I walked into my local Footlocker store, where it appeared (or not appeared, depending on which salesperson couldn't see me) that I was invisible... apparently. After five minutes of walking around looking at different brands and trying my best to look conspicuous, I tried a different approach by attempting to catch the eye of one of their hard-working sales attendants. Unfortunately, it appeared she was much too busy to ask a potential customer if he required assistance, and instead, was deep in conversation with another girl. I thought, fair enough, they must be discussing how to raise their sales in a competitive market (since their competition is right next door). I know it was wrong, but I couldn't help but eavesdrop on their conversation (there wasn't much else going on at that point in my life), and to my surprise, they weren't discussing how to raise their sales at all, but instead were discussing, quite loudly I might add, their plans for the upcoming weekend. This revelation pissed me off to no end. The Rebel Sports store next door became a more attractive option, so I exercised my consumer rights and walked indignantly out of Footslacker. No prizes for guessing no one even noticed me leaving, as I made a beeline for more than the nothing service I had just not received (oh I do love the English language). I admit that after my experience, expectations were at an all-time low. All I wanted was a, "Hello, can I help you?" Or even, "How's your day going?" Said with a smile. I entered the Rebel Sports store, only to realise I wasn't invisible at all, and that it was possible I was being ignored at the previous store. What a relief that was. And at the end of the day, not only did Rebel Sports get the sale, but also a positive five-star Google review (which they deserved)...and Footlslacker did not. I did, however, give them a fair review of their service and a one-star rating. My family have accepted the offer to pay them out. This means that there won't be a challenge to my Mom's Will and is great news to me and makes planning the next phase of my life so much easier and less stressful. All in all...a good day was had. |
| I might rehash a few of my old blog entries, with a few edits. It seems a shame to write them, they get their fifteen minutes of 'fame' and then they disappear into the depths of blog post's past. From September 12, 2021. My Plan... Don't use drugs. Continue to seek professional help. Realise that pride comes before a fall. Lean on others in moments of weakness. Avoid and boycott people who use drugs. Delay when the urge to use comes (five minutes can mean all the difference). Exercise every day (rain, hail or shine). Stop substituting reasons for excuses. One day at a time. Begin to make longer-term plans. Smile, laugh and appreciate every day. Expand my horizons and learn new skills. Travel and see more of the world. Find people who care...and care about them. Avoid people who only care about themselves. Believe in myself and my future. Make integrity my mantra. Trust in those who put their trust in me. Become who I always dreamed I could be. Trust my instincts. Love in the same way I want to be loved. Give...because giving is the greatest gift of all. It's not where I've been, it's where I am going. I am worthy. Know that the only path to happiness is through truth and hard work. Be humble and say thank you often. The only person I should fear letting down is myself. |
| As I rode along my usual route today, the song, 'Us and Them' by Pink Floyd echoed through my brain. The lyrics proposed by PF back in the 70s painted a bleak picture of modern society...a dog-eat-dog morality and a somewhat selfish outlook most of us have been guilty of at some point or another. I thought about why we humans are, at certain times, like this and the question popped into my head, is this me me me attitude hardwired in our DNA? Is it a reaction to stressful events such as pandemics, climate change or those who look and act differently to us moving in next door? Is racism, xenophobia and bigotry a leftover trait from a bygone era when we needed to beware of those who looked different or had different beliefs to us, just in case they were a threat? I did a search and found this interesting article... https://www.independent.co.uk/tech/racism-learned-dna-nature-or-nurture-a9445606... There are several theories about what happened to our cousins the Neanderthals, but I think it is most likely Homo Sapiens took a disliking to them and by hook or by crook, they became extinct. There remain some humans today who carry the signatures of interbreeding between us and them. I have always prided myself on standing up for the weak and supporting the underdog. Members of other cultures cannot help being different to us any more than we can to them and racism is something I could never understand or tolerate. Then one day a family of Aboriginals moved in next door to us and our (my Mom and I) lives became a living nightmare. The nightly drinking, fights and music playing loudly until the early hours of the morning was enough to turn any good-natured and tolerant neighbour into a hater. Then came the day (refer to Blog I) when I declared war on them. This came after a particularly bad night, and as soon as their music went silent at around 6.00 am, I pushed my lawn mower up to the fence on their side and let them have some of that...and when their bleary eyes came out to see who the inconsiderate person was mowing their grass at such an early hour, I asked them how they liked it (only with some added colourful language that helped them understand my feelings at that point in time a little bit better). Things improved for a while and eventually, they moved out, much to Mom and my relief. It wouldn't have mattered if they were black, white or purple...inconsiderate neighbours are just inconsiderate people. But those two years did give me a whole new perspective. I now realise that it's easy not to be a racist when they don't live next door to you...and I am ashamed to admit that. But, I have to blame my ancestor's fear for my intolerance. |
| After taking a couple of days off chores, I feel better. I finally have Mom's room completed, but there's a lot more work to do on the rest of the house. I guess as a homeowner, it never ends, and there will always be something that needs doing. I can deal with that, I just have to learn to pace myself and realise when I need to take a break...and then take one. I need a break now, but it will be a month before I get to lay by a pool in Thailand, sipping pina coladas and trying not to stare at the bottoms of nubile women who are young enough to be my daughters. I haven't touched alcohol since I was last in Phuket in 2018, and in a way, I'm lucky I can have a drink and then leave it. Meth on the other hand is not like that for me. If I were to have even one little line, I know it would be six months before I might stop and regret that one bad decision. Yesterday I did the double...weights followed by bike, and today, forty-five minutes on the bike. I have a pair of pants that I love. I bought them last time I was in Thailand and they are now too small for me. To fit into those pants again is one of my goals, and I hope within six months, I'll be able to wear them comfortably and with pride. Although I don't want to sound like it, I am a bit too big for my britches. |
| By the time we are teens, we are who we will be. Hardwiring comes from genetics passed down through generations, but is also laid down as our young minds develop. Damaged children will, by and large, become damaged adults, and will usually act out accordingly. I don't remember the specific age I was when it all began, but I vividly remember the incidents of abuse and growing up living with fear, which in time, became normal. Studies have shown that around 90% of people with Substance Use Disorder have suffered childhood abuse and/or neglect. Physical and/or emotional abuse and trauma become who we are...hardwired into our psyche. Many people recover from addiction, but in order to do that, they must first go through talk therapy and relive the trauma all over again. And that for some, is a very scary thing to do. I have a memory like an elephant and recall every single thing my abuser did to me from around the age of seven until I became too much of a challenge at around sixteen. These incidents have, so far, defined my life. And although I understand the complexities and have acknowledged that it wasn't my fault...that I didn't deserve for those things to happen to me, doesn't change the hardwiring in my brain like some form of miracle cure. Addiction is a complex and difficult disease to treat. There is so much stigma attached to being an addict that many who suffer won't ever seek treatment. Shame, fear of family and social rejection, along with how society and the law see and treat drug addiction as more a legal, rather than a health issue, turn addiction and Substance Use Disorder into a more deadly killer than if we all faced the truth and changed the way we look at the problem. You just have to look at the numbers of people of all ages who are dying in the US alone, to see it is an epidemic that society must change its attitude towards because if we don't, it could be your son or daughter, or brother or sister who might next be counted among the statistics. And it doesn't have to be this way. Not all addicts have bad upbringings and not all those who grew up having a hard time go on to become addicts. And I acknowledge that there must be at some point, ownership of the choices that addicts make every time they/we, choose to use drugs. Compassion and understanding go a long way, and are far better tools than arrest and prosecution, which only leads to permanent criminal records and for many, pushes them further down the path and away from treatment and a possible cure. At what point do we say, "This war is lost." Once we can acknowledge this is the case, the question remains, where do we go from there? What value do we place on the lives of our children? Over the fear-driven inaccuracies of what is falsely pushed by the government and media as what an addict is. I know what the solution is, but I also know that society is not ready to face the reality of what needs to be done to put the black market out of business and offer hope for change. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results (Albert Einstein). Isn't that what the war on drugs is doing? It is futile trying to arrest our way out of a problem that has more to do with health than it does law and order. When I developed Cellulitis a few years ago, I knew to get myself to the hospital as quickly as possible because it can, if left untreated, be life-threatening. Upon arrival, I explained to the nurse at reception that I was a meth user and immediately, I was treated differently. I was as calm as I could be under the circumstances and explained that I was no threat to the staff or to myself, and yet, the stigma I felt made me feel less than human. Once I was admitted, that stigma disappeared as the perception and the reality of who I was changed the attitude of those who treated my condition. I wanted to show that we are not all the stereotypes seen in the TV ad campaigns. That we are as varied as any other members of society and not much different to someone who appears with any other illness. I can see the path towards my own salvation. I know where it leads, I just have to find a bypass that will skirt around the obstacles that have so far blocked my way. I see things more clearly now than I ever have before...and, I am more hungry now for change than at any other time in the past. I think I can, I know I can...and this time, I will find a way. |
| Isn't denial a funny old thing? Yesterday's little episode was blamed, perhaps unfairly, but certainly squarely, on meth withdrawal. I was quick to jump to the conclusion that my drug of choice, Methamphetamine, was the culprit. I mean, what else could have caused such a reaction? Later that night, I made dinner and got my water bottle out of the refrigerator. It was then I realised I hadn't had a drink of Powerade all day. In fact, I didn't have any the day before either. It's winter here in the southern hemisphere and as we all know, when it's cold (relatively speaking), we are nowhere near as thirsty as in the hot summer months. And I have been consciously trying to drink more plain old water. It was at that moment a thought came...could what happened to me only hours before have been caused by sugar withdrawal? I've seen how the brain reacts to sugar when an EEG is taken. Sugar lights up the frontal lobe in exactly the same way as when cocaine is ingested. I suspect sugar may have been the real culprit, and now I am faced with a new dilemma...how do I quit sugar? Sugar is in almost every processed food, as is salt (which may be far more harmful than simple carbohydrates, and possibly, just as addictive). To prove this for yourself, cook anything from vegetables to meat without adding any salt, and if you are used to salt (addicted may be a more apt choice of word), you will instantly know by the food's blandness and lack of flavour. What am I to do? Unlike meth, sugar, and its co-accused, salt, doesn't have to be sourced from some shady dealer, who charges exorbitant amounts of money for the product/poison they supply. And doesn't the previous statement sound familiar...denial, alongside its best friend, justification. All rolled up in one sweet and salty treat. Even writing those words causes my mouth to begin watering. One of my favourite flavours of ice cream is salted caramel, and I cannot imagine life never eating it again. The mere thought of this abstinence in my future life is sending my head into a spin. Is life worth living without something pleasurable to look forward to? To have to lose every single thing that gives me pleasure...sex, drugs, and now salt and sugar. I mean, what's the point of living in a world where bland, pleasureless monotones of grey are all I have to look forward to? If I did choose all of these poisons, at least my last few years would be spent doing something I enjoy, instead of living life in a continuous act of denial of what I want and desire. Dying from pleasure or living by deprivation. Or is there some middle ground? Some sort of balance. Powerade is my weakness. And a ham, cheese and tomato sandwich without salt and pepper is simply never going to happen. Reducing my consumption of food that comes wrapped in plastic might be a good place to begin. There's no way I am going to start using meth and have to go through all of this again. I don't think I could...and I don't want to. As for my other addictions, I suppose I need to focus on slowly reducing and eventually eradicating them from my day-to-day life...weaning myself, just like I did with meth, might be the answer. For now, removing those two food groups is not beneficial for my ongoing mental health. I'm already fragile and to add more weight to the pack would be reckless, and might I say, detrimental to the cause at hand. |
| I thought I was through the worst of withdrawal, but today, my addiction showed me otherwise. The day started out like any other, but there was this focus I didn't like at all. Everywhere I looked were jobs...tasks that needed doing which became a tidal wave of negativity and ended up coming close to an anxiety attack. After breakfast, came this need to finish all the jobs I am halfway through. To try and complete one room at a time is next to impossible. I don't like loose ends though and today, they were flapping around in a breeze of failure...laughing at my ineptitude and inability to finish a single task. I tried to push through the negativity, thinking it would pass, but after only a few minor jobs were done, panic hit me like a freight train. I didn't understand what was happening. How could this be after not using meth for the best part of two months? I didn't even see what it was at that point and instead of calling it a day, I took a break and made myself some lunch in the hope that would change everything. After I had eaten, it became obvious that nothing had changed. It was then I made the best decision...the only decision I had available to me, and laid down in my bed in the hope of taking a nap. I hadn't slept well the night before and despite advice from my most trusted friend to take a few days off the chores, I thought every day of sloth would be a wasted day...and a day's delay towards my goal of flying out of this place to Thailand. I never was good at taking advice and today, I paid the price. After only a few minutes of laying down, I felt the familiar warning signs of withdrawal, and along with that, came cravings. No two sets of circumstances are ever alike when it comes to quitting this drug, and this time is no different in chemical dependencies' ability to be different. I am thankful my anxiety was mild. I fell asleep for an hour, only to wake up with a new outlook. Not exactly jumping for joy, but certainly better than I felt only an hour before. I grabbed that feeling with both hands and ignored every task on the way out to my gym. I then put on some music and hit the weights hard. A lot of anger was channelled and dispelled in that forty-five-minute session. Then, on my bike, as I pedalled, I considered whilst racking up a few miles. This is where my mind went... Think of an old-school, Walt Disney cartoon, where Goofy has an angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other. Only for me, it isn't an angel/devil scenario, but my past and my potential future. And these two were going at it. The voice of my past was telling me not to take any chances...to stick with what I know, even if that has caused me a lot of negative outcomes. At least, it said, those choices have brought me to this point where I am still alive and relatively happy. The voice on the other shoulder, however, had a very different view of things. It argued that although change is scary, it could bring me a better outcome than the voice on the other shoulder was spruiking. My potential future voice urged me to break free of these past experiences; to take risks and follow a new path for a chance at an even better future. I should point out that these two voices are not real to me and have nothing to do with schizophrenia or psychosis, although they were compelling in their rationales. With three possible perspectives to consider, I will dictate a compromise between the two disputants and hopefully, we can all get along in the small space between my ears. |
| Yo-yoing emotions are to be expected. Up one day and down the next will be my normal for an indefinite period of time. This is everyone's life anyway and taking the good with the bad is, dare I say, normal. Yesterday I was a bit down. I allowed some things to get to me. Dealing with the loss of the most important person in my life and an entire house to sort, clean and potentially have to fight a legal battle over was beginning to overwhelm me. My position on all fronts is strong and I am confident little can be done to reverse my Mother's last Will and Testament. The problem is if there is a contest, the estate must pay the legal fees of whoever decides to go down that path. There are plenty of firms who will take this kind of matter on...no win no fee. Unfortunately, these potential fees will be paid by the estate (me). I'm not stressing about that just yet because first of all, I have to get the Supreme Court to recognise the Will as valid and grant probate. Once this is done, as executor, I can then distribute the estate according to the wishes of my mother. The catch is that anyone wanting to contest the Will has nine months to do so. This means it is inadvisable to liquidate the assets (the house) during this period in case any possible contest is successful. It suits me anyway because as much as I have a plan to move permanently to Thailand, it's a good idea to have a backup plan and therefore, somewhere to return to, just in case things don't go as well as I hope. At this stage, once a grant of probate is issued, and I wind up the estate and pay out the beneficiaries what they have been bequeathed, then I can rent out the house on a short-term lease (there is a severe housing shortage in Queensland at the moment and rents are very high). I can then go on holiday until whenever it suits me, return and finalise my plans depending on any legal proceedings that may come up. It's all very much a silver cloud with a darkish lining, no matter how it goes. Today, I went to the local hardware warehouse and bought replacement locks, some new blinds and curtains. All things I need to do in order to make the house safe for any prospective tenants (because people have previously had access to the keys which is a good enough reason to change the locks). Slowly, day by day I am getting things done. I'm not going at it like a maniac because I don't need to. What I do need to do, however, is focus on my training, my mental health and my goal of staying off meth. All interconnected and all a part of this new life I am planning/living. My best friend in all the world, who convinced me there is such a thing as unconditional love by demonstrating it in real-time, sent me a link to an interview with British comedian Russel Brand. I was moved by his philosophy and brilliance...profoundly so. I've never heard a more sensible argument for where we humans must begin to head. A must watch in my opinion. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=EXUpMMde51E&pp=ygUXcnVzc2VsbCBicmFuZCBpbnRlcnZpZXc... Today I achieved a lot and tomorrow, I plan on doing similar. I feel so normal now, as opposed to the internal chaos that once ruled my life. I'm aware of the pitfalls to come, but I am very confident nothing is going to get in my way. |
| There are days when I have nothing to say, and today is one of those days. I still feel good and nothing will stop me from achieving what I have set out to do...staying off meth for the long term. Anything else I do is a bonus. |
| It started raining here in SE Queensland, at around 10.00 pm last night and it hasn't stopped all day. I have bedsheets and curtains that I need to wash and all this rain isn't helping me at all. In the sub-tropics, we don't usually dry our washing in a dryer, instead hanging it out on a clothesline. The clothesline I have is a locally made invention called a Hill's Hoist. I remember as a kid my friends and I would hang by our arms and get twirled around like we were on a merry-go-round. And when my kids used to come and visit me, sometimes, they would do the same. That very same Hills Hoist remains in my backyard and works just like it did the day it was installed around sixty years ago...a little trivia. At my meeting tonight, I got severely triggered. There was a couple there who spoke a lot about using meth and other drugs and although that is what we are there for, I felt those familiar pangs of want rising in my belly. It didn't last long and once the meeting was over, I forgot (well, I almost forgot) about it. This will be my reality for a long time to come...perhaps forever. Meth isn't physically addictive, but what it lacks in the intense physical withdrawal department, it more than makes up for in its ability to hang onto its victims for the long term...a lot like tentacles. I'm Ok and have no intention of using...not today and I hope, not tomorrow either. One day at a time is how I should take things, but I think tomorrow is beginning to require a little more forethought as well. Today, I managed to get through...albeit, with a slight wobble. It doesn't matter to me how I do, just so long as I do. Yesterday before the rain began, I did weights followed by a forty-five-minute bike ride. Back in the day when I had a fight coming up, there were days during the eight-week build-up that I just didn't feel like training, and the best motivator I used to force myself to turn up and do the work was to tell myself (about my opponent), "He's training today." Having had the previous two days off because I was so sore and fatigued from the previous three weeks in the gym and doing four straight days in the garden, there was no way I was NOT going to get out on that bike today (I do love those double negs) and let a bit of rain stop me. Some ride in the rain...whilst others just get wet...or stay home. Today, I chose to ride that bike, no matter what the weather, and not to use drugs...and that's a win-win in my books. |
| Another busy and successful day. Everything is falling into place. Not taking drugs is what keeps me on track, feeling accomplished and strong. I've had two days off training because the exertion of the previous four days demanded it. But today, I went back and did the double. I love the gains during the first month back after a break. Both my cardio fitness and strength gains are surprising to me. I've got a long way to go in both my health and fitness and in dealing with my addiction when it returns to bite my ass and try to take my life and future happiness. I feel good...so much better than I was just a short time ago. All things I have seen and said before and yet, this time, I am more confident I can and will break this cycle. With more to live for and more to lose, this is what I will rely on when things begin to swing towards the other side. |
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