PROCEED WITH CAUTION

I am a high school drop out. Even when I attended classes I didn’t pay attention. I failed across the board at school. My creative writing skills are poor at best. I barely know how to use the English language. My spelling is atrocious and I don’t understand basic pronunciation. So, if your looking for some great works of literature, you won’t find it here. I’m glad I got that out of the way!

The origins of this blog were simply to make use of a free feature with my website provider. There was a blog option with my internet package so I thought I’d put it to work. On this blog you will find everything from art news, both my own news and that of others, some of my basic philosophies on life, and whatever has my attention at that point in time. I’m not limiting my blogs to one specific theme. My very extensive mental health blogs will make it to this blog too (Before being deleted). Some of you won’t appreciate what I have to write about and that’s fine too. At the end of the day I enjoy writing, even if I’m no good at it, I have created journals since I was eleven which I still have and cherish. This is a continuation of all my diaries but in a digital form. Some of these blogs are rather personal, which might mean I should keep them to myself but I’m happy to share almost all of it. I go through frequent panic/paranoia/anxiety attacks where I’ll go through all of my past blogs, I get paranoid and the post comes down. I have delete pages of writings and hours of work but I’m becoming a lot more courageous at leaving them up for all to see. I doubt anyone read these anyway. It acts as a journal for me more than anything.

When I doubt a blog I have posted I just think of all that all authors who have come before me who have put their books and blogs out here, which for me makes for captivating reading. Steve-O, Nicki Sixx, Artie Lange, Austin Burrows, Ozzy Osbourne, George Carlin and many more personalities have released content that I would be terrified to put out to the world and yet when I read these works I am completely unjudgmental and it thoroughly entertains me. In some sick way it makes me feel like my life is on track and I’m a million miles away from they’re depths of addiction. In a sick way it makes me feel better in my lot in life. Things haven’t got that far out of control. Everyone’s rock bottom is a completely different to the next persons.

Don’t forget to add a like or write a comment just so I know of your visit. Thank you for your visit!

REPTILIANS ARE BEHIND THE WHEEL

Time for me to put on my tinfoil hat. This conspiracy theory will be a lot for some to swallow. I started my journey into the world of conspiracies back in the first years of YouTube twenty years ago. At the time this was for entertainment value but I have since developed a strong belief in many ‘conspiracies’. I have read dozens of books and I have watched hundreds of hours of documentaries. Most if not all of this information has been deleted from YouTube (Funny that!) but there are still plenty of webpages that will do a better job of delving into the ‘conspiracies’ than I. Here we go. The red pill or the blue pill? Please take the red and come down the rabbit hole with me.

The idea of reptilians was popularised by David Icke (Someone I have much respect for), a conspiracy theorist who claims shapeshifting reptilian aliens control Earth by taking on human form and gaining political power to manipulate human societies. Icke has stated on multiple occasions that many world leaders were, or are possessed by, so-called reptilians.

According to David Icke, who first published on this theme in his 1999 work The Biggest Secret, (I purchased this book only to discover hundreds of pages were missing. This goes for other books by Icke too. What were in these censored pages?) Tall, blood-drinking, shape-shifting reptilian humanoids from the Alpha Draconis star system (I’ll create a separate post on this too), now hiding in underground bases, are the force behind a worldwide conspiracy against humanity. He contends that most of the world's ancient and modern leaders are related to these reptilians, including the Rothschilds, the Bush family and the British Royal family. Icke's conspiracy theories now have supporters in up to 47 countries and he has given lectures to crowds of up to 6,000 people. I had tickets to see him a few years back in Melbourne but his visa was cancelled by the Australian government. Clearly too much of a threat to nations security!

WIKIPEDIA: In February 2011, on the Opie and Anthony radio show, the comedian Louis C.K. jokingly asked former U.S. Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld a number of times if he and Dick Cheney were lizard people who enjoyed the taste of human flesh. Amused by Rumsfeld's refusal to directly answer the question, C.K. suggested it was a possible admission of guilt. He went on to further muse that perhaps those who are lizard people cannot lie about it; when asked if they are lizards, they either have to avoid answering the question or say yes.

I would like to share some videos I once watched back in around 2006 in the days when Icke wasn’t banned from the platform and others. The same goes for Alex Jones who I am also a fan of. These men plus many more were silenced. A lot of other researchers mysteriously died. Funny that!

MY OWN COMPANY

Growing up it was so important to have a good social network. I needed to surround myself with other people. I had this network when I lived in Bendigo. I had developed a good group of friends and my life revolved around spending both my time in school and outside school hours with them. I didn’t want to be ‘cool’ or a jock, I just socialised with the students who wagged school, smoked pot and cigarettes and who listened to Nirvana. Every week we would spend weekends and holidays at my best mates who didn’t have a father that was constantly on our backs. He was a unique character who I really liked. He was an artist too.

I prioritised all of these shenanigans above my school work which I was failing miserably (The story of my life) I attended class but paid zero attention to what was being taught and I flunked every class. It wasn’t that I didn’t have the ability to do the work, I just hated every element of school. Art and ceramic classes were the exception. I couldn’t wait for the lunch time bell or even better the home time bell. A lot of these didn’t mean I was excused from class as I often had detention and I was allocated special classes to catch up with the rest of the classes.

Anyway, this was a good period of life as far as my socialising went but then I made the mistake of moving schools to Frankston. I had all of these ideas like I was going to develop a network of new friends, spend my time at the beach and fir into the social situation. Once again I would be popular with friends. That was the dream anyways. Click here to visit my blog on this. After making friends with people who weren’t my friends, they were just better to mingle with than spending my days by myself. These guys were definitely not my people.

After I left school during the first semester I went to art school in the city. Nothing but fond memories over this stage of my life. A full blog on this can be found here.

After my schooling I made friends with people in my place of work which was Coles. I really bonded with some of these people, all older than me and who had cars. Looking back now 25 years later, they were just children themselves but I respected my elders. Unfortunately these people were the smokers of the green stuff, did pills and that just sent me further down the rabbit hole. These relationships fell apart and for good reason. One of the charactors was someone I was best mates with. We even went to Bali together. It turns out I sold my car and put the cash in my wallet only to leave it in this guys car. I rang him as soon as he had dropped me off home and he told me there was no wallet to be found. BS! That was the end of that relationship. I quit work because of my illness soon after so I no longer had to see him. While I was away my manager from Coles visited my parents concerned I was going to off myself because of a message I left to the dick who stole my money. It stated he was a good friend and i was ending it… meaning the relationship. I wasn’t suicidal at that point in time. This was another blow.

My other ‘mate’ tried sexually ausalting me on a camping trip. He figured he could do this by dosing me with LSD. I fought back and to make an extremely long story short all I will say is we both ended up in the Bairnsdale cop shop. Being interrogated while tripping on this drug was less that enjoyable. I’ll have to do a full entry on this as it was quite the story. One that messed me up mentally for a long time. It has only been later years I have come to peace with the ordeal and I forgive him. That’s what Christians do isn’t it?

I had a falling out with my cousin who I always considered to be my best friend. I don’t blame her for this at all. I used to be a drunk and knowing she was up to a drink I would go over and completely over indulge every time I saw her, and her husband who I was good mates with too.

This all happened in the same month! My world came crashing down. Once again I was by myself. After some time passed I discovered I didn’t need these people. There were more broken relationships over the years than these examples. They were mostly friendships based around drinking and smoking. I don’t need them and a lot of these friendships I sabotaged as I didn’t want to be out on the piss doing bar to bar until the sun came up ever again.

I learnt to do my drinking by myself. This sounds sad but it worked fine for me. I wouldn’t find myself in these predicaments with others and I was able to get my art done or web design as part of my business. At the time I had a extended family who I would enjoy few beers with but for the most part it was done at home all by my lonesome.

I’m happy to say I am now a nondrinker. I’m about to reach my six month anniversary and there is no going back. The above things were just life lessons and I cringe when I think of what I used to get up to. Thanks for reading!

IT'S ALL SO BLAND & STALE

I’m not sure if it’s just me but does everyone feel as if the world has become uninteresting and boring? The reason for this blog is that I have binged a lot of YouTube videos with people expressing their own concerns when it comes this a broken world and the lack of positives. The same issues as me. I’m starting to think there is something tangible to this phenomenon. I know I’m not the only person who feels like this. If you were born in the early to mid 80’s this blog is for you. Nothing excites me. There is nothing that makes me happy. There’s nothing to look forward to. Everything has been done.

I live in one of the luckiest countries in the world experiencing one of the most fascinating periods of time and change in history. I should have nothing to complain about but this feeling I constantly have is real and going by other peoples blogs and YT videos, others feel it too. I’m starting to think there is something more to it.

I’m not sure if it’s because I’m getting old? If it is the medications I swallow? It could be a governmental agenda where they are spraying the sky, pumping fluoride into the water or the poisons in the foods we eat. There could be a connection to mobile phones and cell towers? Perhaps Wi-Fi? Maybe it’s the rubbish we watch online which seems to all be negative. I’m not sure if people watch mainstream news on the TV anymore but this can be awfully depressing, Social media? Working a job you hate? I don’t know? These are all just guesses but it wouldn’t surprise me if at least one of these is adding to the depressive mood so many of us seem to be going through. I just feel down and empty.

Remember when there were good movies and music? Each year there must have been at least one quality movie to come out at the cinemas. I’ve fallen out of touch with current movies because it all crap. The standard has really dropped. The same could be said for music. There used to be great, talented musicians but where are they today? They have died out. There are a few big names hanging on. Tool, Pearl Jam etc. type of groups who have been around for decades. I miss the days when I could walk into a music store and walk out with a bunch of CD’s (Remember them?). Yes, I know all generations complain about how good things were and how bad things have become but it’s true! The world has lost it’s colours and it is now so dull and bleak.

It is the small things I miss as a child. Getting a Ninja Turtles figurine, a chocolate bar from the convenience store, birthdays, Christmases and easter. Playing with insects and digging up worms. I have fond memories of travelling to Frankston to visit my grandparents and play with all my cousins. I would feel like the luckiest kid alive if I got to own a pair of Nike sneakers or wear a brand name piece of clothing. Going for bike rides. Riding and racing my motorbikes. Socialising with friends. The list goes on and on. Like everybody, I have such great memories. I didn’t realise at the time how good that period of time really was. It almost makes me emotional to think about all of the joys I got to enjoy as a child

I have young nephews and they seem to be perfectly happy most of the time. Maybe because they need to gain a few years before coming to the realisation their screwed. They are rightfully protected from most of the detrimental aspects of this world. I hate to think what the world is going to look like by the time they reach my age, that’s if we don’t wipe ourselves out by then through war or some catastrophic natural disaster which is a real threat too. They’re too young to worry about these things. What I’d do to be their age again… then again I wouldn’t want to go through some of the hardships we go through as adults again.

I don’t want to play the pessimist but I am but I’m also a realist. It feels like we’re well over due for something big. Something that would make 9/11 (inside job) look like nothing at all. I’m sure there is some correlation between how we feel today and a potential disaster of a monumental size just around the corner. I could be wrong but with how messed up the world is right now nothing would surprise me.

I WAS A REHAB LIGHTWEIGHT

His eyes and skin were yellow, he had jaundice. He was on deaths door and yet here he was in a rehab clinic. His daily consumption of alcohol was two bottles of vodka for god knows how many years?! He couldn’t hold a conversation. This man was maybe in his late fifties but he was probably younger. When he entered for day one of his rehab stint even his cloths smelt like booze. He was simply gone and it was sad to see.

Now, here was me. Little old me! I enjoyed drinking a few beers. A few is playing it down but I wasn’t drinking enough for it to become overly problematic. I drank more than I should have but compared to some of my fellow inmates I was an absolute lightweight. I didn’t even feel like I should have been in that same situation as these people. This gentleman wasn’t the only one like this. A lot of these people were at the end stages of alcohol addiction. It made me feel like a lightweight.

Did rehab work for me? Well obviously not from the first visit as I went back for a second stay. The answer is a simple no! On both occasions I relapsed shortly after the completion of both of these month long stints. Sure I was loaded with all the information and the tools to fight against the drink but deep down I wasn’t ready to quit. You really needs to be. I still had a love affair with beer and the occasional wine or vodka mix. In order for one to quit and remain sober they have to really want it and I wasn’t in that territory. There was more drinking to be done. After the first admission I drank within an hour of leaving. I must have had this planned all along as it took me no time at all to finding myself driving through that bottle shop drive through. I wasn’t ready.

This came after attending hours of AA, so many classes at the hospital, listening to so many other patients war stories and one-on-ones with the councilors. I was full to the brim with the information but I didn’t care. I didn’t even feel guilty in drinking again. Rehab was like a vacation from the alcohol and now I was home!

This continued for a long time until I had enough. It got old. It was the same routine every day and alcohol was no longer helping me and it was making my life miserable. Another rehab visit wasn’t going to cut it so I had to take the matter into my own hands. Without the help of anyone I was able to quit. I’ve heard so many times that you can’t do it with help, whether this is AA or talking to a psychologist who specialises in this area. All nonsense! It was really drummed into us that this couldn’t be done without help. I did it by myself and didn’t even struggle. I’m approaching six months of sobriety and this came down to my own willpower. I have honestly not even found it hard. It has been a breeze. My initial plan was to go for 3 months and see how I was travelling at that stage but that came around and I figured I’d go for six. Now that I’m almost at that mark I never want to go back. I am no longer a drinker I am proud to say… and I did it all by myself! I don’t need an AA chip or a certificate from the hospital.

I’m not kidding myself. I know my journey has only just started. I don’t want to fall off that ‘pink cloud’ but I know I won’t. I can’t think of anything that would make me want to pick up that drink again. I was counting the days I had been sober but I’ve even lost count of these - which is a good thing I think? (I just did the math and I’m on day 163)

AN ATTEMPT AT MY MENTAL HEALTH HISTORY

Here’s another blog I shouldn’t create. I have written and posted this a few times now but I always delete it as it is rather personal (I say while sharing it to the world) and without knowing me as a reasonably normal person you may gather that I’m a crazy man. Before I get into it, let me just say that I am NORMAL when it comes to societies expectations and there isn’t a mean or dangerous bone in my body. I wouldn’t even hurt an insect. I’m just unlucky that my illness carries such a stigma. A stigma that I don’t even like associating myself with. It would be so much easier to have a broken bone as this is something most would understand. For the people who know me, I’m guessing you know what this diagnoses is, but for someone who knows little to nothing about me, it may frighten you off. Celebrity personalities who have suffered drug and alcohol problems have come out with their stories and made international bestsellers out of their books and they have a lot more readers than I and crazier stories. This doesn’t even cover the millions of people talking about their experiences online and on YouTube.

Guys, I just went through the list of topics I wanted to write about and none of these sit well with me to talk about. I’m pretty transparent on this blog but I have to draw the line somewhere. I can’t post these blogs as there is no way of doing it without making me feel uneasy. Let’s just say I have had over 20 admissions to hospital, been on dozens of different meds, too many rides in the back of police cars and ambulances I care to recall and a couple of stints in rehab. I’m not going to elaborate on these occasions as I was going through some dark times. I have had plenty on doctors, psychiatrists and the psych wards know me well. They became my second home. My insurance company has forked out so much money on my hospital stays they would have been able to buy a house… No kidding! There are dozens of stories to tell but I’ll keep these to myself. I started this blog off with good intensions but I just can’t do it. Sorry!

SQUANDERED EMPLOYMENT OPPORTUNITIES

There have been so many employment opportunities I let pass. I worked for large companies where promotions were reachable. I have worked for myself in a business that had chances to become big, but there have been potential openings in other areas of employment I pushed aside. Most of these roles were presented to me 20 to 25 years ago but I still wonder… what if? If I had of perused these lines of work, who knows where I would ended up. Most likely senior, well paying, professional rolls that I let slip through my fingers. I look back now and not only would these positions have been be a happy job for me there would have been good coin involved. These were positions in the supermarket industry where I made it to the fresh produce manager, where I took on big responsibilities and I look back, I could have made it to area manager or higher.

I became sick and was unable to take on these rolls. It was at this stage that everything fell apart. I was in and out of hospital while pushing my duties as a produce manager to the side. I was demoted to night fill where I was stacking shells and this was just the position I was given which meant I was one point away of being fired. I resigned. I was put on a disability pension and all of this stress was alleviated.

My next job was for a large produce farm. Same story here. Had I played my cards right I could have climbed the ladder. I worked there for six months before get demoted and fired. Another lost opportunity. I even did most of my pre-apprentice course in carpentry so I could work with my dad and brother as a builder. I had been around building my whole life and I hated it. I did this course to make others happy. Not for me! I left the course half way through.

Back in art school where I gained my diploma in graphic design & visual communications I found my niche. I left with the skills to take on a web and print design business working under my own rules. I found work for some big companies and was making a good name for myself. I worked for a big architectural firm, an ongoing job working for a big real estate company plus for many other smaller businesses. I was at home with the design side of things where I could do whatever was needed behind the computer screen but when it came to having phone calls and presenting myself for meetings with clients, this is where things fell apart. My anxiety was too great. This and I was spending half my time in hospital. I let this business fall apart. Once again, I could have built a successful living from this business but some detrimental elements took over. These were out of my hands.

Today I play the roll of a visual artist. I sell my art to pay the bills and I am often able to put a little aside to savings, or I pay my rent in advance. No bosses, no deadlines, I’m my own boss without clients chasing me down. I wouldn’t have it any other way!

MUSIC THERAPY #1

When it comes to my dedication to tunes I have not grown up. I still have an obsession with groups that I was introduced to as a teen. I’m a big fan of the nineties and very early 2000’s. I love groups from the sixties but have little time for the 70’s and 80’s. There may be a small handful of groups or songs I got into from this era but very few. For me music outside of the 60’s was created from 1989 with the release of music from the grunge groups and Tool. I was glad to see the death of the hairbands of the years leading up to this date. Nirvana killed this for us all. The closest group of this genre that I have feelings for is Gun’s N Roses. They were one of the first groups I ever got into and I was in grade three. Before that I was a Michael Jackson diehard fan. Don’t give me a hard time for this… I was a ten year old!

I have always had a tendency to get fixated on certain things. It was all or nothing. Black and white. No half measures. This hasn’t changed. When I develop an interest in something I don’t do it half-arsed. I throw myself completely into the obsession of whatever it is/was and it can take over. These things can be quite obscure. When it comes to music outside of MJ my energy went into Nirvana, The Doors and Tool.

I was introduced to Nirvana and Kurt Cobain in 1996. It was my first year of high school and I was 13. It was a cassette flogged on the school bus to school and back home by one of the older students. Thanks Macca. Something just grabbed me by it and I became an instant fan. I threw myself into everything the group and Kurt produced. Their albums, all of the B-sides, VHS tapes, books, posters for my bedroom, my clothing, box sets… everything I could get my hands on! An obsession doesn’t do my admiration for Nirvana justice. I can still name all of the songs of each album in order along with the release dates of each single. I know every lyric and I know more about Cobain than is healthy for any human. As a child I idolised Kurt and glamorised his suicide. His death left room for the jigsaw puzzle of his life, musical works and lyrics. As sad and scary as it was I looked up to him and wanted to follow in his footsteps. Thank God I grew up and now see it for what it was, what it is… great music and lyrics by a depressed man who has no bearing over my life today. I’m so glad I grew out of this dark period of my life. I’m sure it was just a teenager thing that slightly spilt over into my early adulthood. Unplugged in New York is still my favorite album of all time. I occasionally listen to them these days but I played their music sooo much that it has become stale, predictable and outdated. Kurt left a mess behind after he took his own life in 1994 too. He left a wife, a baby and millions of impressionable teenagers across the world, some who commited copycat suicides. He had a responsibility and I find it hard to feel any compassion for the man today for not sticking it out. I will always rate Nirvana.

A few years later in year nine when i was 16 I discovered The Doors and Jim Morrison. I took a similar interest in them that I had found in Nirvana. Without repeating myself on the memorabilia I collected, I flew head first into them. Jim Morrison became my new hero. Once again I fell in love with everything I could get my hands onto and Morrison got me into poetry which I still dabble with today. LA Woman was the first album my dad bought when he invested in a CD player in 1995 and I had few CD’s of my own so I got to know this album well. My best mate at the time shared the love for the group and Jim as much as myself so we bonded over this.

My world was then blown apart by Tool. I am a dedicated fan to this day. I have seen them live countless times, I have tattoos, I fell in love with Maynard James Keenan’s side groups who I have also seen live and Tool’s music has been flogged as often as Nirvana and The Doors music combined. I am seeing them at a festival in less than a month. It’s been a few years since I have seen them. I’m getting too old for festivals but it is the only gig they’re doing in Melbourne so I’ll brave the crowd of youngsters and find a comfy seat up the back and watch them from a distance. Tool have a fanbase of older people like myself who will show so I won’t be the only oldy. The band has been together for a lot longer than the young ones who will be crammed in the mosh pit.

Outside of these three groups I have a plethora of groups I love and respect. I am an avid concert goer and have seen most of the major international groups live over the decades. I won’t list them as this blog has become too long as it is.

I have a healthy respect for music and it has helped me through some dark times. It has always been there for me. I don’t want to sound like a child or teen who is immersed in the music scene but I kind of am. I have lost touch with what is going on in todays music and I know every generation says this but the music from my early years was real and has now faded. You only need to listen to Triple J to see how music has become stagnant and unoriginal. Every song sounds the same as the one before it. There are some dinosaur groups that are still keeping real music alive but there will be a time when these groups disappear too. The joys of getting old!

Just before I end this post… back to Triple J. In the late 90’s I was a big fan of the hottest 100. I know almost all of the songs, I voted and every Australia day I would listen to it intensely. It was like a tradition. Now I’m lucky to recognise a single tune and it’s not even held on Australia day anymore. Just another way the times have changed.

IT WASN'T MEANT TO BE

All of my energy was put into jumping through the hoops of what was expected of me as a boyfriend. This wasn’t enough. It was just confirmation for me to once again realise that I’m not built for relationships. This is one thing that was very apparent. I’m destined to do this life solo and that’s fine by me. This is what I choose. I am too tied up in my own world to gamble in another relationship with the ladies. I have said it time and time again in my blog: I am responsible for myself only. My freedom comes first and I couldn’t live by this rule whilst with someone.

I moved my gf’s unit, we bought a puppy (who I still occasionally see and cherish), we would, and still do, \go to concerts together and life was swell for the first couple of weeks. I was paying cheap rent, all of my utilities were taken care of and the little I had to do was make tea, as she worked all day throughout the week, and maybe do the vacuuming over the weekend. There wasn’t too much that was asked of me.

I was left to my own devices during the day but as soon as the five o’clock mark arrived and I knew she would be home at any stage would give me a mild case of anxiety. Most of this was based around disposing of the daily beer cans as there was zero tolerance for drinking booze of any quantity. This was a hard game to play for a former drinker. She was oblivious ninety nine percent of the time to my consumption but it was that one percent of the time I was sprung that caused the conflict. I hid my intoxication like a champ! This lady was straight edge… she’d didn’t drink, she didn’t take medication or smoke vapes or pot. She lived in total sobriety from everything. I couldn’t/can’t get my head around that. Good for her I guess but it’s just not the way I was wired and she didn’t understand this. One of our first blowups came when she discovered I had very poorly hid a couple empty beer cans behind some dirty clothing that she was to wash. This didn’t go down well. Things only got worse from there. I would spend my nights in the spare bedroom and got the silent treatment for days. This did wonders for my mental health.

The breaking point was when I had been outside smoking my vape and tripped over the step when entering the house. I was far from intoxicated and this wasn’t the first time I had fallen. I still do this when sober from time to time. After receiving notes she had left me on the kitchen bench every morning asking me to leave (even threatening to involved the cops) it was my time to go. I slept in my car that night and ended up falling back on good old mum and dad for accommodation which wasn’t an issue other than the fact I was an adult living with my folks!

For reasons I don’t understand, I remained friends with her to this day. She does have great qualities as a human being. She would do anything for me or other people but after being treated like shit because I indulged in a few drinks, this put an end to the relationship. I have tried my best to push these things aside and keep in contact and a good friend. I feel like I’m doing a wrong by myself for doing this. We go to concerts together - Nick Cave, Pearl Jam, Thome Yorke, Queens of the Stone Age, Grinspoon, Henry Rollins, Pixies and an upcoming festival to see Tool perform in a month… it would all fall apart if I was to drink a single beer. I feel like a child. Not that this is an issue for me as my six month sobriety milestone has almost hit and I don’t have the slightest desire to drink again but the damage has been done between us. My fault or hers, I still have the bad memories, mostly unjustified. She would argue against this I’m sure. This is only my side of the story. I’m sure if she was to write a blog it wouldn’t put me under a positive light and maybe rightfully so. There was probably many things other than the beer that caused the breakup but they are unknown to me.

We catch up for lunch at the bakery every second Sunday and take the dog for a wash and walk so she can’t hate me too hard. We just weren’t meant to be together.

SO STUPID - SO LUCKY!!!

Another blog I shouldn’t write: Let me first stress… I take my medication as the doctor prescribes. The times of the day may vary but for the best part of the time I take the correct doses and try my best to take as few PRN’s (Pro Re Nata) which means to take meds as needed as possible. When I become unwell, it’s so important to have my correct meds so I need to ration these out over the length of the script so I don’t find myself in the depths of despair. There’s nothing worse than one of these attacks without medical aid. Now we have that out of the way, let me tell you of my benzodiazepine abuse back in my drinking days (the dark days).

The two substances you can die from during withdrawal is coming off alcohol and coming off benzos. This is different for each person. Also to take into account is how long one has been drinking or popping benzos and quantities. If you take the occasional 5mg - 10mg it is unlikely you will have anything to worry about. No different to drinking a couple of beers over the weekend. You have to continuously take a lot to run into trouble. I’m not a doctor so don’t listen to me. I’m just an average idiot who takes this occasional med but this is what I have come to learn…

The other danger is mixing the two. This is an absolute no no! I count my lucky stars I didn’t kill myself playing around with these two highly addictive drugs (Yes, I call alcohol a drug) and I’m lucky to be here to tell my story. I’m a little upset that my doctors who knew I had issues with the booze and yet prescribed me benzos without telling me of the dangers. At least I would have expected them to warn me. Never was the fact brought up that they are highly addictive either.

I never took my benzos as I should have. My pattern was to take a few days off swallowing them and then take a large dose so I would get a high from them because of my weakened tolerance. I would usually take a bar (10 pills) off diazepam (Valium) or half a dozen nitrazepams (Morgadone) and then drink beer. It wasn’t uncommon for me to take more once I started drinking that poisonous brew. Guys, I cannot stress enough how dangerous this was. Do not follow in my footsteps. I came out the other side unharmed but there was a lot of luck involved and a lot don’t make it. Ahh.. so stupid, but like I said, I didn’t know of the risks I was taking.

By the way, if you want to wipe your memory out completely, the combination of these two substances will deliver. If you have ever been black out drunk and wake up the following morning with only vague recollections of the night before, times this by ten. I only hope I didn’t do too much damage to my poor brain. I must have wiped out a trillion braincells.

I don’t drink anymore and I take my benzos as I’m directed. I don’t take them every day. I take them as PRN’s. They are worth their weight in gold when I’m suffering a severe panic attack or for the occasions where my anxiety gets on top of me. I’m basically taking them as they’re meant to be taken. A script can last me a few months.

When I was in rehab, Valium was widely used for the people who were detoxing. They would hand them out like candy without even questioning why they were needed. I have a conspiritual thought that by dosing patients which was to chill people out so they were easier to keep calm and chilled to get out of the nurses hair. People may have recovered from alcohol but I’m sure there was a healthy percentage of people who walked out of the hospital with a benzo addiction. This is something else I noticed, when I took the pills and got a slight high, I would crave beer more than ever. It was prescribed to me to help with the wanting of alcohol but for me it only made the situation and the desire to drink even worse.

I dodged this bullet and I thank the lord for looking over me during this two decade long roll of the dice. Once again, this is probably another one of those blogs I shouldn't have created but it’s all a part of my story. Who knows… maybe this may help someone!

INSOMNIA

It’s getting bad. I’m not an insomniac where I go days without a wink of sleep but I have experienced this on occasion. My insomnia doesn’t allow me to sleep for over an hour at a time and then I’m awake until I drift off again. This happens several times every night. I just want continuous, uninterrupted, natural sleep. I have tried everything I can think of: Listening to podcasts. Reading books. Listening to ten hour rainfall videos. Exercising during the day. Taking medication at the same time and correct dose every night. I have a hunch that this is what is causing it… medications. I think this but then I have been a night owl since I was a young child but I guess this was by design. I take nitrazepam (Morgadone) which is a strong benzodiazepine but this only puts me to sleep (most of the time) it doesn’t keep me there. I am allocated twenty pills a fortnight and I always go through them and hang out for my next prescription to be filled. I take a whopping dose of Seroquel and I take Chlorpromazine. This combination is not doing it for me either.

It sometimes gets to the point where I give up trying to sleep. The sun may be coming up and I think stuff it! I’ll just get on with the day which of course leaves me constantly tied. I have even cut back on coffee which was something I used to rely on. The same goes for energy drinks. I used to drink these like they were going out of fashion. Now I have stopped drinking all caffeine and this hasn’t done anything to improve my situation either.

Some of the meds I have taken include: Imovane, Stilnox, Chloralhydrate - All the pams - Nitrazepam, Temazepam, Diazepam, Xanax, Zolpidem. …You name it and I’ve tried it. I sometimes have the same sleep pattern (or lack of) on the occasion when I don’t take medication at all. I’m starting to think this is just how I’m wired. Maybe my body and mind only need a couple hours sleep to function. Elon Musk does it and look at what he’s able to accomplish. I know it’s not the best of ideas but I sometimes take brief naps during the day. Twenty minutes siestas here and there. I sometimes have to as my brain is calling out to me to get some damned shuteye.

I’m in the lucky position of not being employed so I don’t have to worry about getting to a job on time each morning or making it through the day. I still have daily commitments. I don’t think people understand when they see my bedroom light on at bizarre times during the night and why I’m so tied during the day. It’s not an illness that is recognised, just like mental health in general! If I had a broken bone I would receive more sympathy.

Off topic a little… I have a story to tell on the sleeping med Zolpidem. This is not sold in Australia anymore and for good reason. It causes sleepwalking and in a lot of cases sleep driving. People also used to take it recreationally too by taking large doses and forcing themself to stay awake. I never tried this but I did find myself driving my car. It scared the crap out of me! I found myself driving on a busy road not knowing how I got there or what the objective of the trip was? I turned around, went home and never took this medication again. Apparently this is very common. A mate I was living with also took a dose and one night he woke up only to realise he was cooking dishwashing liquid on the frying pan. It sounds funny but it really isn’t. Thank God this has been banned. Without doing any research I think it is known in the USA as Ambien and commonly prescribed for sleep disorders, not for sleep driving!

150 DAYS SOBER

I lost count until I did the math. Today is day 150 off beer and other alcoholic poisons. That is 150 days of saving my health, saving money, renewing creditability, improving fitness, no more hangovers and just a greater sense of wellbeing. I know to the average person this is no great achievement but for me it’s big.

I was never a raging alcoholic, I didn’t lose jobs, i was never penniless and I wasn’t the man sleeping under a bridge with his bottle in a brown paper bag. I was able to maintain a functioning life but I was drinking too much. I’m not going to go by the safe amount of units one should drink as this is ridiculously low. Yes, I was drinking more than the one standard drink a day like they recommend, but what drinker who enjoys a few beers does?! At the end of the day no alcohol is the way to go. That habitual glass of wine or beer after work may seem harmless but it starts to add up if you look at a weekly, monthly or yearly consumption. If you drink a few beverages over a year, that’s almost 11,00 drinks. This doesn’t include weekends where you’re likely to consume more.

I drank more than this. I won’t go into specifics but I was down to the bottle shop every morning/day to purchase my supplies for the day. To give you guys a better idea of my drinking patterns I did two stints of rehab and did other programs that wasted my time. I fealt like a lightweight. I was with people who were court appointed, people on deaths door with jaundice who drank bottes of vodka a day, people who went into seizures during their detox. And here was little old me who enjoyed a few beers. Not down playing my consumption, it just wasn’t at the levels my fellow ‘classmates’ were experiencing.

Quitting the booze was extremely easy for me. Once I told myself enough was enough I went cold turkey and never had any difficulties (May 29th 2025 - Present). No cravings. No desire to start drinking even entered my head. I was thrown into situations where others were over indulging and this didn’t phase me a bit. I have learnt to except alcohol is everywhere… for the good times, the bad times, a hot day, public holidays… any excuse to drink in Australia is fair game. Boredom is another one. I’m not going to get into too much more as these experiences were not good and exceeded the ‘normal’ drinking. Drinking at work and the grocery shopping were all fair game... stuff like that!

I’m not kidding myself, I have only just started my journey. I have the rest of my life to carry out my sobriety. They say a day at a time but I see it more as a year at a time. I’ve got this! There are triggers: Every time I go to the pharmacy I see the bottle shop next door and remember my fond memories of buying a couple of beers whilst I waited for my script to be filled. I was never over the limit. This was a promise to myself. NEVER drink and drive. I learnt my lesson 25 year ago during my DUI. This is for another blog.

So that’s where things are at. No more drink for me. You won’t see a blog titled ’I relapsed’. I don’t know what it would take me to pick up that bottle of poison again. I made it through the death of my grandfather a month ago who was very close to me. Even this didn’t tempt me in the slightest. It’s just something I don’t do anymore.

People often offer me an alcohol free beer. Nope. Why would I want that taste in my mouth. I can’t guarantee this wouldn’t lead to the real stuff. Part of me was after the effects not the taste. I don’t judge the people around me who drink these, it’s just not for me. It’s a little bit like a heroin addict who comes off the gear and moves to methadone (without the high)

I have given far too much of myself in this post. There is SO much I haven't shared as this would touch on the boundaries I’m not willing to go. All that matters is I am today sober. I can only live in the now and not stress about my past of future. I’m going to give myself a pat on the back, as no one will do it for me. Have a nice sober day!

VAPING VS. CIGARETTES

I’m not kidding myself. Vapes can’t be good for you. Breathing in anything other than oxygen is not a good option. I’m addicted to the vape! There is a stereotype going around in the bloody mainstream news about these product's enticing children to take up the habit. This may be true as they apply over 30 different flavors and they come with flashy packaging, why not make it no different to smoking cigarettes or drinking alcohol? Put an age restriction on them! Treat them like the purchasing booze. I’m a little over the novelty of being cool. I’d rather be dead than popular for vaping!

Not promoting the use of these devices but if we’re comparing these to smoking cigarettes there is no comparison. I honestly believe this. I haven’t had a cig in 3 to 4 years but I’ve been smoking a vape fort his amount of time too. I swapped one addiction to another. In my mind there is no comparison. Vaping is definitely the lesser of the two evils in my eyes. If it makes me cool than I guess I’m a cool kind of guy!

There is zero coughing. I used to cough my guts up when smoking cigarettes. I would be constantly be coughing up lovely brown stuff and my lungs would hurt. Nice stuff like that. Every smoke would burn my throat and lungs but I kept going for over two decades. With the vape I can honestly say I haven’t coughed once in 3 to 4 years.

I don’t stink of smoke and I don’t have to spend a fortune like I did with the fags. In Australia a pack of 50’s costs close to hundred dollars. The tax keeps going up and not in small increments eiter and the government can’t understand why illegal cigarettes take up to 65 percent of the market. You can’t be poor and be expected to spend hundreds of dollars for a product most people have to find money for every few days or less. A vape will last me about five days. I am spending over a third of what I did on smokes. This makes it affordable. What I used to spend on cigs I can now purchase 3 vapes that almost last me a fortnight. Vapes by the way cost about 30 dollars each.

There is a grey spot in the distribution of vapes. They are illegal as far as I know to sell. This is why the tobacconist always ushers me to the corner of the store and tells me to keep the cash out of view of other customers. The obeadiant customers who like paying tax - They will only except cash too. But there are no guide lines. The government doesn’t know how to tackle it. Apparently pharmacies were meant to supply vapes providing you had a script from your doctor, who didn't know what to prescribe either. There has been no education for the health professionals, the pharmacy or the tobacconist stores on what to do. At the end of the day it doesn’t effect me unless the tobaconnist stops selling them and after four years of service I doubt this will be an issue. If the feds seized all vapes and the government put into place some legislation then I would quit. It would be hard but so was quitting cigarettes. Even if the worst case scenario came into place, I would never take up the darts again. I have zero desire to smoke a cigarette again.

After writing all of the above, I do plan on quitting. I say this every time I’m about to finish my last one but it won’t be too far off now. Within the next months, weeks I am hoping to tackle this addictive monster..

ART SCHOOL

In my last post I described the hell I went through at my new high school in a strange suburb where I didn’t have a single friend and battling academic endeavors were poor to say the least. Having a social network at this age is fundamental. I didn’t have this and I left halfway through year 10. I don't regret it for a moment. This was liberating! There were bigger things to move onto.

In 2000 I enrolled in a diploma course in graphic design and visual communication in Elsternwick (I know this was a million years ago) This school since closed and I can’t find them even on Google. Maybe I just imagined these two years!

In my initial interview, the head honcho interviewed me and looked at my work, which consisted of Microsoft pain art, no Photoshop, and I presented a number of paintings. I was accepted on the spot. I was warned I would be the youngest in the class and I had to hold a certain level of maturity. I did my best but I was a teen, who knows what shenanigans I had planned.

The trip to class was a bit of a big one. I caught buses, trains and trams and it took me well over an hour and half to make it to class. I loved the transport. It gave me the chance to read my latest design magazines and keep up to date with current events by scanning the newspaper.

Day one of classes: This was mostly an introduction to the course and a get-to-know my fellow students. I automatically connected to my comrades. This was a mix of people who had been through VCE and some elderly folk wanting to make an introduction to the design industry. I was amongst my people. Country boy meets city! At first I enrolled mostly for the fine arts but it wasn’t long before I fell in love with the design programs using the G3 Mac. Photoshop was my passion and I still dabble in this, but I found love in web design, meaning I had classes in Flash, Dreamweaver, Illustrator, Fireworks, Photoshop and QuarkXPress also. I’m totally out of the touch with these programs 25 years later. So much has changed and updated. Today I focus on my fine art.

I met some awesome people who I have lost contact with. Nathan, Dan and Heath reach out if you read this. Every lunch we would go to the same burger shop and there may or may not have been some pot smoking intervals between classes. It was an art school after all. Most of this was done with my teaches!

After this was all over instead of finding employment in the industry I created my own business in web and print design. I did really well with this before becoming unwell and not being able to liaise with my clients. I was in and out of hospital and couldn’t keep up with my commitments. I left a lot of unsatisfied companies in the lurch. There was nothing I could do about this.

Still, art school was the greatest thing I ever did. I also did some certificate courses in fine art with a teacher who put me under his wing at the same school. The whole experience is in my distant past but I still have the memories.

HOME WAS A MILLION MILES AWAY

“Excuse me, where do you think you’re going?” I’m not sticking around here, that’s for sure! These were the words from my year 10 math teacher asked as I collected my stuff and walked out the door. I wasn’t coming back to this hellhole and that exit from the classroom was absolutely liberating! It was the first semester and I new I was done. Leading up to this was a test that was placed on my desk. I glanced over it and I realised I didn’t know a single answer to even one question. It was gibberish. It wasn’t just math’s I was failing at in fashion, it was every subject. I had zero interest in learning the bullshit curriculum and I didn’t partake in any attention in class and out. I didn’t do a single hours worth of homework during my six months at this high school other than art class.

My time here was awful. I moved schools from Bendigo to enroll in this school in Frankston. It felt like a million miles away. I left behind a collection of good mates and my status as a reasonably ‘popular’ student amongs the peer group I hung out with. I was now in this foreign school where I didn’t know a single soul. I was by myself. There was a small group of people that I would spend some of my time around as this looked better than me being completely alone but these people weren’t my peoples. I don’t place blame on anyone other than myself. I wasn’t the type to make new friends easily. They were people I used just to be apart of some ‘social’ group. On my first day of school I was allocated two students to show me the ropes. I could immediately see that these guys were the school outcasts and not in a cool way. They were the unpopular kids of the school who had only a few more friends then I and I had zero. They were nice enough guys but they weren’t the type to smoke dope and listen to the music I was into, two of the necessary factors in people I wanted to associate with at the time.

It was at this later stage of my time at this school that I started to not show up at all. I would dress in my uniform and make the walk there but never quite made it all the way. Both of my parents worked during the day so I would turn around and return home to an empty house, listen to my antiestablishment music, smoke and drink. These were some dark times for me. I was 16 and I was suicidal. I don’t say that lightly.

Walking out of that math’s class was the best move I ever made. I cannot describe what a relief it was to remove myself from that situation. Sure, I was a high school dropout but this didn’t phase me in the slightest. After a brief period of not attending school and doing nothing else with my time except work on art projects, I increased my hours at Maccas and Coles and then enrolled in a two year diploma course at the Melbourne School of Art in the city which in contrast to high school was the best period of my life. I wrote a previous blog on my employment post high school here. I will do a blog on my experience at art school as my next post.

Do I have any regrets about being a high school dropout and not doing VCE? Nope. Getting my diploma was much more beneficial and opened more doors than VCE ever would. At my age it is not even necessary to put these details on a resume. The employer doesn’t care what you did 25 years ago. VCE is irrelevant. I guess because most employers just expect this to be everything one does.

THIS IS WHAT I HAVE TO LOOK FORWARD TO

About a month ago I was experiencing some issues with my bladder. I saw my GP, who I find difficult to visit at the best of times, and sure enough he sent me off for an ultrasound of my kidneys. What can go wrong here, I thought? Just another routine precautionary test I had to take I’m guessing was to safeguard the doctors arse incase there was something abnormal. So off I went for my death scan. An ultrasound is nothing new to me, I used to have regular echocardiograms which is the same deal, just on different parts of the body. This whole ordeal took five minutes. The results were to be sent off to my doctor.

So I reluctantly go and see my doc not expecting anything out of the ordinary. He wasn’t his usual happy self to see me. He puled out my test results and tells me they found something. Please don’t be cancer I though but the findings in my eyes were close to it… Kidney stones! Oh joy! I was given some medication, told to drink plenty of fluids and wait for them to pass. He told me, just like everyone else I have spoken to about it, that this can be excruciatingly painful. More so than giving birth. I am yet to go through labor but I can only imagine what this must be like for the soon to be mother. He told me I can get some pain medication, the good stuff I hope, but he also warned me not to go down to the Frankston ER as they will presume I’m a drug addict chasing down a high on pain medication and leave me to suffer in major pain without receiving relief. He told me to see him at the medical clinic. This doesn’t help much as there are only certain times of the day or month that I can get ahold of the doctor. He’s a busy man. How does this even work? I’m going to need the medication pretty quick I’m imagining. This is concerning and stresses me out even further.

So now all I can do is wait for the pain to kick in. I have a high pain tolerance but I’m really not sure what to expect or how to react. Hopefully they’re small stones and pass without a great deal of pain and discomfort but what if this all of a sudden comes on and I’m left in the fetal position on the floor wishing I was dead!? I feel like a ticking time bomb and the solution the doctor gives me is to drink water!! If I make it through I will post a blog on how the kidney stone situation ends up. Wish me luck!

WAKE UP FOR THE MORNING COMMUTE

Guys, I can’t fill my life with the monotonous task of work. I’m not wired that way. I have tried selling my soul to a number of companies but I always end up quitting or getting fired, or sabotaging my employment. I never took work seriously. I would take days off sick every week. When I did show up I would do the bare minimum to hang in there but I would grow tied of the roll I was playing and I’d leave. I don’t think I have ever been fired but I have left just before this happened. My disability would restrict me greatly in these positions too. This isn’t an excuse, it’s reality. I haven’t gone too deep into my actual disability because it’s hard to encapsulate the extent of it and there is no way of explaining myself adequately without sounding like a nut. The disease comes with a tone of stigma. It’s not like I have a bad back that restricts me from work, that would be understood. All I will say as it is tied into mental health. I don’t even like using the title of my illness and only share it on a need to know basis. It’s something I came down with in my early twenties so I have been battling this for over half of my life. I have also always had a disliking to authority figures. Rarely have I got along with a boss. This trait doesn’t really help one climb the corporate ladder into better job descriptions and a more enticing pay. I had plenty of opportunities to do this. I’m definitely not the company man!

My first jobs were working at Maccas and at the same time for a supermarket doing casual hours as I was also balancing school at the time too. I gained employment at these shitholes on the same week that I was legally able to work. I think this was fifteen and nine months. I had always wanted money but I didn’t want to work hard for it. I’ve never been financially driven. They say working at Maccas is a great stepping stone into other lines of employment. I’m not sure if this is true or not but if you can stick to a position at McDonalds, you can work almost anywhere. I have nothing but bad memories at that place and what makes it worse is that I gained employment with another Maccas once again when I moved from Bendigo to the city. It was just an easy transition from one hellhole to another.

I quit school at an early age. I was only half way through year 10. My schooling really needs to be addressed in another post. Having worked at Maccas on a casual basis as soon as I left school I increased my hours to part time. 11:30 - 4pm Monday to Friday. I swear that clock ticked slower than that of the world outside of that restaurant. Man, did I hate that job! I worked the grill and I can still remember going home at the end of my shift every day with my body covered in oil.

I quit working there and found myself working casual hours at Coles in the fresh produce department. I would grow to hate this place but compared to Maccas, it was a dream job. I can still remember how happy I was to work there. It was refreshing. I stuck at the job for a number of years, then I quit and worked as the dairy manager at Woolies, then I moved back to my old position in produce for Coles again. Had I played my cards right I could have made my way up through the ranks and up the corporate ladder during my employment at Coles. I worked my way up from a casual position to manager, which was a big deal because I had about 15 to 20 people working under me. I would write out the rosters, do all of the ordering and all of the back end stuff nobody ever sees in a supermarket. Unfortunately, this is about the time I fell unwell. Things came crashing down there and I took demotion after demotion until I was left stacking shelves on night fill. I was in and out of hospital and the company couldn’t keep me. I hold no grudges, things couldn’t continue giving me chance after chance like this. Once again I quit just before I was fired. I still think about that place and where in the company I could have ended up. This was out of my hands. There was nothing I could have done about it at the time. I was sick.

It was around this time I got my diploma in graphic design and visual communication which was a full-time two year course from a privately run school in the city (They no longer exist). This was the best time of my life. I’ll go into this in another blog. With the skills I learnt there I created my own web design and print business which did extremely well at the time. I was great behind the computer and the visual and design side of things but not at all good with phone calls and meetings with clients. I did ongoing work for one of Melbourne’s leading architectural firms and for a large real estate company. Once again, this could have become something good had a played my cards right but I didn’t. I ended up going in and out of hospital again. Bummer! I have let my skills dwindle over the years and I have fallen out of touch with the industry.

Working with my dad and brother as a builder popped up as an option but I hated it. I had always hated being a chippy. I was exposed to this from an early age. Not for me! I even did my pre-apprenticeship in carpentry which once again I dropped out of. I loathed it.

I went through a job agency and found work at a charcoal chicken store. I almost made it through a full shift before being told that the job wasn’t for me. I wasn’t heartbroken over this.

My last place of employment was at a large lettuce and herb farm. I was hired as a QA. It turns out that this stands for quality insurer. It was one of those things where the longer you went not knowing something the harder it was to ask. I spent six months there walking around not knowing what I was doing. I didn’t know my job description. It was like an episode out of Seinfeld. I was later moved to dispatch which meant loading the trucks full of produce for the Melbourne market. I can’t remember for the life of me how this came to a close. I’m guessing I spent more time in hospital than at work and removed myself from that company. Once again, no tears lost.

Today I work my dream job as an artist. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I work from home, I don’t have a boss, I make my own hours, I make okay money and I’m happy to get up every morning.

Today I live off a DSP. I have for over a decade. I have to watch over my spending as this payment is not a whole lot of help help, but it allows me to get by and have a tiny amount to save each month or put into my art. I’m not a man of money! So to the thousand of ladies out there chasing me, please keep this in mind LOL. Mental health can be debilitating and my heart goes out to those who are suffering. Leave a comment below to tell your story or jut to say hello. I haven’t received any comment or likes as of yet. Be the first!

THAT'S THE END OF THAT!

I recently added half a dozen paintings for sale. I just sold my last painting I had advertised and now I am free of having to deal with people enquiring about the pieces they take interest in. The series included 12 canvases, all the same size with varying prices. A lovely lady collected the last painting this morning and was keen to purchase other paintings that I had on the walls. These weren’t for sale but the interest was encouraging. It’s sometimes hard giving up my babies that I put so much time into but all of the earnings go back into art supplies and have allowed me to pay off a few months rent in advance and fill up my car with a full tank of petrol, which always makes me feel like a rich man. In one of my earlier posts I brought up how disheartening it was to have a couple visit basically tell me they weren’t interested. This lady bought the same piece for the asking price and loved it. Art truly is in the eye of the beholder. I have come to learn this.

If there is one thing I hate about the selling of my art is the communication side of things. There is a lot of back and forth through messaging with people wanting to buy, wanting to view, wanting to bump down the price and it get’s tricky when I have a lot of paintings listed at once and knowing who wants what? How much one person wants to pay compared to someone else and what times they are available to visit. I really struggle also with having the buyer come over into my house. I have to use art talk to convince the person I am the real deal too. I’m not good with people at the best of times so to add the extra stress of managing the art of the deal can be overwhelming for me. I know it’s no big deal.. they either want the painting or they don’t but this doesn’t help when I’m playing the salesman and I have to put on a smile and act in a way that’s not the true me.

Anyway, that will be the last sale for a while. I’m taking a vacation. All I have to do now is wait for those creative juices to start flowing and make my way to the art store. I have plans on working on another series. The question is do I churn out the same themed product that have been proven to sell or do I experiment and see what I come up with… or both? At the end of the day I am just happy to be selling my work. I guess not every artist can say this. I’m no longer the frustrated, struggling artist - Actually this isn’t true, I really am. I just have an outlet to move my art now. This feels good to know.

NOT FOR ME

Guys, the time is 4:31am and I have been sitting behind my laptop indulging in some music therapy trying to prioritise some fresh blogs. I have a lot of ideas and there is plenty to write about but I have chosen to do a random blog on whatever comes to mind. Sometimes my brain works quicker than my fingers on the keyboard and some gibberish is created. Tonight (or this morning) are going to be just that. As usual I can’t sleep and it’s almost that time of morning when I hear the poor peoples cars on the distant freeway destined for the morning commute to jobs they hate. Jobs where they have no option but to sit in there cubicles and do they’re 9 to 5 shifts of tedious, soul crushing tasks so at the end of the day they can knock off, drive their new cars ,that they are paying off, home to a house they have a mortgage on, to their 2.8 children, children that cost a fortune to raise, to a wife that is sick of you. You shower or spend time on the loo as these are two places where you have time to yourself. You go to your home office, in the box you live in, a box that looks like every other box on your street, to pay the utilities, credit card bill, and the latest iPhone you got on finance and wonder to yourself… how did it become like this??!! Have tea, go to bed only to repeat the same game the following morning. Then the weekend comes around and you have the kids basketball game, need to attack those lawns that need mowing, and go out for tea with people you don’t really like… and this is your life. This is what you designed for yourself because that is what society pushes you into. And let’s not forget that messy divorce that is constantly hiding in the shadows, ready to take more than half of what you own and have you pay child support for 18 years to children you only have custody of two nights a week. Ahhh… I couldn’t think of anything worse! You have one life guys. I’m talking mostly to the men here.. If you are a youngster and desire these things just remember the things ‘you’ own end up owning you. It’s not a game you wanna play. As for answers to these dilemmas, I don’t have any. The damage has been done. I have played my cards right.. I think.

Of course this is a generalisation but I’m sure it’s not too far off what most guys go through, or at least some of it. Some guys would enjoy being owned like this because they know no different. This is what your friends and neighbors are doing so this must be normal. This must be the only reality.

Let me speak for myself. Rule number one - NO CHILDREN: This was a choice I made early in life. I can see the alure in having kids but the negatives completely outweigh the positives. I wouldn’t make for good father material - NO MARRIAGE: Where are the benefits for the man? Why would you wanna do this? What is in it for you? Most marriages are created from the whining of the lady in the relationship to pressure you into her trap. I have had plenty of girlfriends over the years but I’ve always made it clear from the get-go the things I don’t want in this life - NO DEBT. Don’t live above your means. Pay cash or at least money you have in the bank.. Don’t borrow from anyone. Be completely in charge of your coin. As soon as you tie the knot she now owns that money too. And when things go south, and statistics suggest they will, this along with most other possessions you own are now not yours alone. Women have you where they want you!

These are just my personal philosophies. Everyone is different and there are always exceptions to the rule but the odds aren’t in the guys favor. People have said to me - Don’t you feel like your missing out? Nope. I feel free, and nothing interrupts my freedom, to do what I want, when I want. No middle man (or lady) needed. I’m responsible for me. I don’t believe in needing other people constantly around me. I enjoy my own company but if I wanted some company I know where to find it. I only need a handful of friends anyway. I’m not a misogynist or have anything against women as a rule, most of my friends now and in my past have been ladies. They just know where I stand on my beliefs.

Well, so much for the ‘random’ writing session. It kind of morphed into a tirade against having no marriage or kids into my idea of how people (especially men) should look at the bigger picture and enter carefully. ‘Love’ or close relationships can be special at the time. I had partners who I could swear on were going to last forever only to dwindle out in the coming months. Lesson learnt!

I'M THE PINNICLE OF FITNESS

When I was growing up, especially in my young teens, my body was in good shape. I rode my mountain bike or BMX long distances with ease. I would ride for 3 hours through the mountains, to school which was a million miles away and I raced motocross and played basketball. I was as fit as they came. Slowly over time I discovered pot and alcohol and partying with my mates took priority over my fitness.

As it stands today I’m the heaviest I have ever been. I’m over 100kg. I am 6 foot 3 so the weight isn’t too obvious but I have a beer gut that In simply can’t get rid of, I have always been told to stop drinking beer and I would see the weight drop off me - BS! The weight gain also comes from all of the medication I take, diet and lack of exercise. I’ve done my research on the antipsychotic medication Seroquel, which I take large doses of (over ten times the therapeutic dose) and person after person says the main side effect of this medication is weight gain with a lot of people coming off the medication for this reason alone. I also take chlorpromazine, Invega injection, antidepressants and a couple benzodiazepines thrown in the mix. I recently went on a health kick where all I drank was water, my diet was healthy and I was going for two 45 minute fast paced walks a day. I did this for a whole month and thought I’d better get on the scales to find out how many kilos I had lost. I nervously stood on the scales hoping to see a loss off some weight. I watched the numbers on the scale adjust and it fell on 105kilos. I PUT ON WEIGHT. This was really disheartening. What’s the point of living a miserable life by adding and subtracting different nutrients, not drinking alcohol, pushing my mind and body to exercise and eliminate all the finer stuff in life and for what??!!! I could have remained the same weight by staying home and binging Netflix while eating bowls of chips and enjoying a slab of beer. I gave up!

I have recently started to exercising again, watching my diet and I haven’t had a drink in 146 days. Alcohol wasn’t going to be a problem as NOTHING gets in the way of me and my sobriety. I’m in a different mindset now. I’m pushing my body to get out of the house and work out. I wont go into all the positives of exercise as we all know the physical benefits of daily exercise are beneficial. I’m told it helps your mental health too. The thing is people…. I HATE exercise, I hate preparing for it, I hate the process of engaging in the work out, all I can think is ‘I want this to be over’ and I hate how I feel when I get home and recuperate. I loath it from start to finish. Endorphins? Serotonin? I’m starting to think my body doesn’t produce these chemicals at all. I’m not one of these freaks who needs to push their body to feel good.

I’m not trying to set any records for myself and I’m happy to walk the same route everyday. I’ll keep this up but I still hate everything about it. I don’t wanna become heart attack or diabetes material. I have to remind myself that losing weight isn’t the only reason for me to exercise. As I said there are many benefits including the little things like smelling the fresh air and flora around me, Getting some natural vitamin D and I’m told I would sleep better which is a bunch of BS. The same goes for beer. I was always told to stop drinking and the weight would fall all off me…. BS! I quit drinking beer for other reasons which I won’t add to this blog as it’s becoming too lengthy as it is. My sobriety will make it to another blog. All I’ll say is that I’m approaching 5 months sober.

Thanks for reading! Oh, it’s also funny how I started piling on the weight when I quit smoking cigarettes and pot 4 years ago too. Perhaps I should pick these habits up again? Not too likely but it’s fun to romanticise!