Risperidone Conte

Off to the doctors for my next fortnightly shot of resperidone conte for my mental illness. I nearly forgot to change my appointment to coincide with my new work roster. I spent the morning catching up with my favorite blogs and now time has run out and I must rush to meet the new appointment. I haven't had much to say these past few days. Tonight is my first night with new co-worker so I may have more to say tomorrow...

Nothing much...

I have not posted here these past few days as nothing much has happened. Just the daily grind for a dollar and I am sick of thinking about it yet alone writing about it although I am swapping shifts with the opposite to me on the alternate shift because as he puts it "She (his co-worker) hates me!". As such I come off nights and go back on nights next week if that makes any sense.

Two positives however, one, I will be able to get my fortnightly shot of resperidone conte for my schizophrenia on my day off and I can start re-attending my local Alcoholics Anonymous meeting at night every second tuesday which now coincides with my day shift. Anyway as I said in the title "nothing much". I just hope "She" (new co-worker) doesn't hate me too...

False start...

Decided to do overtime today which meant another 5am start but had the rewards of double pay attached and I could do with the money. Co-worker set the deal up and we had a list of tasks to complete in the 8 hours allotted.

The foreman came up at about 6am and said that because co-worker had a day off without a medical certificate during the week that he had to go home... "no overtime when you have had a day off without a medical certificate."

As I was an innocent party to co-workers absences I was to be paid for three hours and then go home. I don't think it was fair on me though. Anyway I have a few errands to run so I won't be wasting the day. Free at last I can put my hard hat away for a few days. I may blog later...

Windy days...

I work in a very large shed with no walls and when I say large it is enormous. It is so high that when it rains if the precipitation is coming in on an angle, large areas inside get wet. The machine I operate is located in the centre of this huge structure and it is safe from the weather except for the wind. The product I produce is in large packs that have to have plastic (promotional) stapled on to either end after it has been cut which is no small task in the wind.

The gusts of wind only produced large amounts of frustration in me, coupled with the workaholic activities of newly returned co-worker who seemed to be trying to make up for his absence yesterday. He was shooting around the shed at high speed in the forklift and spinning the tyres whenever he had to change from forward to reverse. Also the hydraulics where taking a beating from rough operation.

Finally something had to give, and it did. The shaft into the hydraulics came adrift with much noise smoke and grinding. Another larger forklift eventually was called to pick the smaller unit up and take it away for repair costing a few hours of production and even more financially for the company I expect.

Last day tomorrow before a four day break when maybe I can find something more interesting to fill my mind and perhaps blog about...

Indispensable co-worker

Co-worker wasn't at work again today. That makes 2 days in a week. I was given a replacement to operate the machine I work on and found the day most pleasant. I now realise just how difficult co-worker really is. He pushes and pushes all day to produce the most product possible in the allotted time and it wasn't till I had the chance to operate with someone different that I realised the same amount of production can be achieved without all the "hurried" stress that co-worker exhibits.

An old bloke who has worked at the factory for 32 years asked me "what's he (co-worker) like to work with?" I replied that he pushes too hard and drives the large forklift like a madman, swinging heavy packs of product around with sometimes dubious results. The old bloke said simply "That's how accidents happen and people get killed..."

I hope co-worker's away again tomorrow, however, I doubt he could stand that cause I think he thinks he's indispensable. I have learned working there that no-one is...

back on track...

It has been a better day. It is good to be back into a routine. Today was another day of returning to work which was constant and tiring, yet bearable. I was pleased to make my appointment this afternoon with the doctor and get my regular injection of risperidone conte for my schizophrenia. I also got some creme for some rash that seems to have flared up on my back and is extremely itchy. Whilst at the chemist I also purchased some 100 mg vitamin B1 tablets as I remember receiving them in hospital detoxification units I attended in years previous.

When first admitted to detox suffering alcohol withdrawal one of the first things they do is give you an injection of vitamin B1 and then start you on the regime of 100 mg tablets daily which they suggest you continue with when you leave. I should go to a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous tomorrow night though I know now that I will feel too tired by the time the 8 pm meeting starts 20 kilometers away from home. I think the B1 will have to do as a start. Even if it's useless the memories it evokes of my time spent in detox should, at least be useful...

Drinking binge...

Started off my weekend poorly with a visit to a friends house where I accepted a stubbie of beer. A visit to the local hotel followed where I had another couple of my favorite beers. All seemed well enough although arriving home early in the evening I was soon asleep, the effects of coming off night shift and having imbibed the alcohol. Saturday saw me back down the local pub spending the afternoon drinking beer after beer. It still amazes me how quickly I get back into the "swing of things" when it comes to drinking. The early evening saw me crashed out on the lounge sleeping it off.

I awoke this morning with what I would describe as a moral hangover. I was really annoyed with myself for breaking my sobriety, I had been doing so well. My punishment for this indulgence is that I don't feel like I have had a weekend at all. The time was wasted in the hotel with drinking associates who really couldn't give a damn about me as a person and the remainder was wasted on alcoholic sleep.

Also it's fathers day. Out of my three surviving children my youngest girl rang me in the afternoon to give me salutations for the day. That was nice although I must admit I was a little hurt that the other two didn't bother. The price of being the estranged parent with ex wives that must hate me. I'll get over it and I must now concentrate on another week of work starting at 5am in the morning. Tomorrow afternoon is my fortnightly shot of Risperdal consta. I think my mood may be affected by the last shot running low in my system...

Eclipse over...

Last night I finally convinced my co-worker that there was to be a lunar eclipse after my false alarm the previous evening. He actually heard it was true on the radio so I can't take my persuasive comments as the cause. My co-worker is Malaysian (I think) or of some other similar origin and although his english is quite good I often wonder if he actually understands a lot of what I say to him. The environment is very noisy with a lot of machinery operating and forklift trucks buzzing around. We wear hearing protection and just increase the volume of our speech to be heard so these factors and the respective speech accents make things difficult.

Arriving at work I couldn't wait for the sun to finally settle. In between operating machinery I ducked out of the shed at regular intervals to observe the shadow of the earth slowly engulf the moon. Co-worker kept rolling up in the forklift from the storage yard saying "It's not red..." I imagined it wouldn't be red until the eclipse was complete and tried to indicate this to him but all I received was a puzzled look.

Eventually the eclipse was complete and the moon was dark with a red/pinkish tinge. I admit it was very unusual and regret having been at work and only being able to grab swift glimpses of it's various stages of fulfilment. It was nice having something to look forward to during the evening however and it certainly made the first half of the night travel a little faster.

Anyway time to rest before another night only this time with nothing to look forward to...

Blood moon...

Night shift last night had me searching for the moon. I had heard that there was to be a lunar eclipse last night and excitedly told my co-worker of the fact. At 8.30 pm there we were searching the heavens for this unusual event. We were to be disappointed however as the event is not to occur until tonight. I don't think my co-worker believed me in the end as he hadn't heard anything about the impending lunar event. He looked at me as if I had lunar madness.

They are calling it a "blood moon" because the image of the moon appears red instead of it's customary silvery/white color. Apparently lunar eclipses happen somewhere around the world at least twice a year but the last time a total eclipse was visible from Australia's eastern states was in July 2000.

The eclipse will be full from 7.52pm (AEST) until 9.23pm (AEST), with the moon appearing red, because only the red component of sunlight will be diffracted around the earth onto its surface. All that remains to be seen tonight is if cloud cover will prevent observing it. Something to look forward to though, in an otherwise dreary night of money earning...

Drug dreams...

I stayed up late last night hoping to sleep in late today because I am starting night shift this afternoon. The plan went badly when I awoke at about 6.30 this morning with mild paranoia and was unable to go back to sleep. I tried again at midday to get a few hours before starting my drive at 3.30 pm to start at 4.

I managed to go off into a light sleep I think about 1 pm only to enter into a dreaming state that I awoke from feeling great distress from. About six years ago I got hooked on the drug ice. First speed and then ice. This addiction took me through three of the most harrowing years before I kicked the habit about three years ago.

The dream was vivid about shooting up. The scene included the whole ritual, the preparation, the insertion of the needle into my vein, the drawing back of blood to ensure the vein had been located and then the glorious rush of the injection. The scene was repeated several times in succession but each time, although a successful injection, the needle on the end of the syringe bent at right angles tearing at my veins.

I woke up and before the onset of distress my last memory was thinking how well night shift was going to go tonight "full of speed". The dream was just so vivid and indicates to me just how fragile my recovery really is and how powerful the sub conscious mind is in relation to my past addiction. I have been clean for a long time now and did it "cold turkey". I have a new life now. I have dealt with my alcoholism, I have dealt with my drug addiction and I have medicated for my schizophrenia.

I hope this dream was a one off experience, but it scared the hell out of me...

Spring wattle...

The weather today is delightful. One could be excused for thinking that it was the middle of spring, approaching summer, tee-shirt weather. My weekly trip for supplies saw the drive made with the window down and a cool breeze flying gently in my face as I drove. The wattles are brilliantly showing off their pre-spring flush of golden yellow and I noticed several unknown fruit trees on the sides of the road showing their first pinkish blossoms of the season.

Spring is indeed just around the corner with another bleak winter behind us here in the southern hemisphere. It is amazing what effects these warmer, sunny weather conditions can have on my mental state of the moment although a little more rain in these drought-ish times would not affect me detrimentally. I have really enjoyed these past few days off and feel rested and ready to return to the "mill" for another week of night shift monday night...

Daffodil day...

Today is daffodil day in Australia. This is a day set aside to raise awareness of cancer by the cancer council. It is a day once a year that I reminisce heavily on the death 12 years ago of my (then) 7 year old son. It amazes me to think he would be 19 years old this year if he were still alive.

I was separated from my first wife and camping at a friends house when I received a call from my older sister telling me to get to the hospital as something was wrong with my son. Shortly after arriving at the hospital my son was air lifted to a major hospital in Sydney where he was diagnosed with a rare childhood cancer called Rabdosarcoma (A malignant tumor of muscle tissue.)

The cancer had started near his jaw bone and had progressed down his spine and formed many legions on his lungs. Diagnosis to death was 14 days. It (the cancer) was inoperable. I define the time as probably the worst in my life. So little time and such a very sick little boy who showed no more symptoms than a toothache for which he was dispatched to the dentist by his mother.

My final memories of my child were watching Jurassic park over and over in the hospital with "Look daddy, Raptor..." his favorite animal. Finally, as the end approached he frantically clutched at my head, pulling me close and kissing me with dry, cracked lips. He knew what was happening to him.

Today I may succumb to a few beers down the pub. I dearly loved that child...

Advantages to adversity ...

Working a four day week with ten hour shifts has it's advantages. A three day weekend as a reward. I am bolstered by the fact that tomorrow is my last day of day shift and as of 4 pm thursday I don't need to return until 4 pm monday afternoon. Looking for the advantages to adversity in the long hours of the day I realise that I seem to have a lot of time to think. Not really pondering anything, more like memories from the past zapping into my mind.

Things I haven't thought of in years seem to appear from nowhere for no particular reason. Some of these memories are very old and equally obscure. I can't really give any as an example as they are fleeting thoughts... more like dejavu, only with tangible substance as far as memories go. Some are pleasant memories and others are disturbing and painful recollections, some I had thought well and truly dealt with and forgotten. Anyway I find it interesting and wonder how much these "unlocked" memories are attributable to the medication for schizophrenia I take.

One more day of adversity awaits and I must now seek nutrition, some relaxation and regain my strength for another, hopefully less brutal day...

goodnight

Head miles...

Got in to see the doctor on monday after work for my fortnightly shot of resperidone conte. I was pleased that I didn't have to wait very long and am appreciative of having a hardworking and flexible doctor available in this small town. I have had more success with medications since seeing this physician.

I have seen dozens of doctors, psychiatrists and associated mental health workers for my schizophrenia over the years, but none have been as successful at treating my illness as this man. I love the resperidone conte and am so glad of ending the daily pill regime that for years I needed to keep any form of stability in my life.

Work is tolerable now and this has not always been the case. I seem able to avoid what I describe as "head miles", times I spent endlessly conversing with a myriad of thoughts,"voices", paranoia's and phobias. I used to feel as if I was doing miles and miles in my own mind. It was thoroughly exhausting. I am happy to say that with the help of this medication that at the end of a hard day's work I am simply physically tired, and not physically tired and mentally exhausted. I thank resperidone conte and my doctor for this.

I have missed posting here since saturday night. I arrived home from day shift today and still had the mental capacity to log on and catch up on some of the regular blogs that I read. I will finish this post and catch up on a few more before settling down for a meal, a little television and a good nights sleep...

Sleep, DVD's and medication...

Arriving home at 2.30 am friday I took the luxury of watching television till sleep overcame me at about 4 am. I slept late into the day with the electric blanket working a miracle on my strained and tired legs and feet. I feel I wasted most of my first day off but needed the time to properly recover. I didn't post here at all friday.

Today was spent lounging around before a trip to the supermarket for supplies and a visit to the video store for cheap DVD's. I selected 6 which tallied to just over $50.00. A little reward after returning to work. Problem is my DVD player isn't working and was forced to watch one on this laptop computer with very poor (little volume) sound.

Not much really happening here, and Dr Who beckons from the television in my bedroom. I will retire again to the knowledge that I don't have to work again tomorrow. I really appreciate my weekends now although I seem to sleep a lot of it away. I forgot to make an appointment with the doctor for my fortnightly shot of resperidone conte on monday for which I am due. I will try and get an appointment for monday afternoon after work.

The problem with being medicated for schizophrenia is that when your well you have to remind yourself that it's the medication that keeps you well...

5 hour blocks...

Tonight is my last night on shift and then a three day reprieve. I feel like I have been living my life in blocks of five hours duration. Five hours till my mid shift break, five hours more till home, an hour or so till sleep and then waking, another five hours till I start the next block of five hours.

I must leave in a half an hour to restart this five hour ritual and looking outside it has started to rain with loud claps of thunder attached. It is a long walk from where I park the car into my workplace and it seems I am going to get very wet... great...

Death before dishonor...

My first tattoo was a standard "off the wall" picture of a dagger through a heart with a scroll that said "Death before dishonor". My camera isn't available so this picture is one I found on the net that is "sort of" similar". Mine has color and is now surrounded by many other tattoos.

When I first joined the army at 17 years of age it was popular to get a tattoo so, full of bravado and a few beers I was off to the tattooist in Melbourne for my first. The un-original Death before dishonor tattoo seemed the logical choice. The image of being macho was probably the deciding factor of this first tattoo.

I thought about it early this morning at work when I was thoroughly "fed up" with the work and tired beyond belief. My legs and feet ached and all I wanted was the shift to come to a speedy end. I have worn this tattoo for 27 years and it rarely comes to mind even when standing in front of a mirror. I laugh about it now because I think dishonor is probably far more preferable to death...

note: the tattooist used a stencil and used the American spelling "dishonor". in Australia it is supposed to be spelt "dishonour".

Nothing much...

Returned home from work at 2.30 am this morning. The work was particularly hard during the evening and my usual complaint of sore legs and feet from pounding up and down on the concrete prevailed. The hours seemed to drag by with the repetitious and demanding activity. As I work in a large open (no walls) shed the cold of the evening (2 degrees celcius) seeped through my jumper and work coat. I just couldn't warm up even though the work I was doing was strenuous.

Anyway home I arrived to a pleasant hour of a 1965 circa movie on television about a small boy who steals an exotic (didn't catch it's name) small animal from an English zoo and his attempts at concealing it from his aunt. I would like to know how it ended but sleep overcame me within the hour. I awoke at 8am, then 10am, then 11am. I am off to work again in 2 hours.

I hope tonight is easier...

Just have a few...

I think I need to maintain a few relationships with friends around town. The problem for me is that these relationships have, in the past, been maintained in the local pub (hotel). As I find it difficult to restrict my alcohol intake this location can be very bad for my well being. Yesterday afternoon I visited a friend from the pub at his home. Upon arrival one of the first things he offered me was a beer. I declined. I didn't say why I didn't want one, not the truth of why, just that I didn't "feel" like one. I felt by my absence from the pub that he thought I was avoiding him which wasn't true. I was avoiding the drinking place itself.

After a short while my friend decided we should relocate down to the pub in order to watch the Rugby Union (football) on the big screen television located above the bar. I don't know why but I simply responded "see you down there" and left in my car. It felt strange after a long absence to walk into the pub and even stranger to ask for a schooner of Coca-Cola. It ended up being the longest game of football I think I have ever watched and took the final whistle as my signal to leave.

I can't say that I didn't want to have some alcohol because I did. I didn't have any, but deep down I wanted to. The beer seemed to be calling out to me. Old thinking that I could just have a few, that I could now drink sensibly and be "normal" crept into my mind. I didn't enjoy the game, the conversation or my surroundings and I think it will be a while yet before I can comfortably re-enter the environment and remain sober and sane...

Stupid car...

After 47 posts on this blog and never missing a day, I have gone five days without writing anything. Work has consumed me for my ten hour daily shifts and left me exhausted with very sore feet and legs at the end of each day. I get home, eat and go straight to bed to get ready for the next days start. I have missed reading my favourite blogs each day and have spent this morning catching up on a weeks worth of postings.

Starting at 4.30 am to travel to work, I began on monday. Not being used to the constant walking on concrete my body was rebelling by the welcomed end of the day. After the shift remained a long walk to where my car was parked and upon arriving, to my horror the car wouldn't start, the key did not turn in the lock. I had an appointment at the doctors 45 minutes later and in desperation decided to walk to my lady's work to get her car.

I didn't realise how far that walk was on foot. 40 minutes later I arrived, legs and feet in pain. My lady rang the doctors and let them know I would be late. Long story short, 6pm saw me with pants down receiving my fortnightly injection of resperidone conte. The dose had been increased to 37.5 mg in a slow release mixture and to this point has alleviated the symptoms of my schizophrenia well this week.

The car's key lock is being repaired and I have another vehicle as a "loaner" so my transport woes have been corrected. I am enjoying my first day off giving my legs time to adjust to the rigours the work involves. All in all I am happy to be back earning an income. The effect on my self esteem is empowering. I just wish my legs and feet shared my new found optimism of the future...

Back to the dungeons...

The weekend travelled by faster than I expected and my new work starting in the morning sneaks up on me swiftly. I need to get some sleep as I must awake at 4.30 am tomorrow to make my half hour drive to work. This leaves me only six and a half hours sleep if I finish this now. Then its ten and a half hours till my half hour drive home.
goodnight...

Big Cats...

For many years there have been many sightings of big cats in Australia. The sightings are becoming very common in the states of Victoria and New South Wales.

It is believed that American servicemen stationed in Australia during World War II may have brought them in as military mascots. When quarantine demanded the animals be destroyed the owners released them into the Australian bush in preference to putting the animals down. Other theory's include private zoos, collectors and travelling exotic animal sideshows releasing these big cats.

Farmers have reported stock losses of large animals such as horses and cattle as well as smaller sheep, goats and deer. These kills usually displayed characteristics of mauling impossible for any other native carnivore, cat or feral dog. Many believe there is a sustainable population of panthers and pumas roaming wild in the Australian bush.

Head miles...

Today I worked up the inclination to contact my work and find out what shift I am to return to next week. I presumed I would be doing the same job as I used to do, a job I grew to despise. The manager told me which shift I am to start back on and then before finishing the call told me I would be doing a totally different job.

I can't express the relief in me when he said this. I think it is a mark of my own paranoia that I have been "working myself up" for a week about returning to work and fighting despair and anxiety every inch of the way for all that time only to discover at the last minute that the whole mental experience was un-necessary.

Later in the day I drove to the bigger supermarket in a neighbouring town to get supplies as Mother Hubbard's cupboard was bare. I drove past work along the way and felt that my fortunes have perhaps changed. I can't say that I am looking forward to the return still, although I am not dreading it like I was.

Anyway I have a weekend ahead of me to enjoy (or at least try to) and perhaps have the frame of mind to write something a little more interesting than my work woes...

Kurrajong trees...

Today has been a restless day. I forced myself out of the house this afternoon and drove down to the local waterfall where I sat and smoked a cigarette and enjoyed the sunshine, the babbling creek and the peacefulness of the place. The landscape beyond the creek was void of trees accept for a sprinkling of kurrajong trees left over from the land clearing of the mining era last century. In the time between then and now it seems nature has failed to reclaim the area leaving only the timber unable to be used in the mines and mining camps.

Reading yesterday's post reminds me how awful a day it was for me. I am in a more accepting mood about the work issue today. Tomorrow I will call work back and find out what shift I start on next week. After that call I will try and not dwell on my imminent return and face the situation when the weekend ends.

Next week I will try and be like the kurrajong and remain standing at the end of the day...

Back to work...

It was a shock to be contacted recently and be offered my old job back. Apparently I was very much missed in my absence and a suitable replacement could not be found. I without really thinking it through accepted. The deadline for my return to work approaches and with each hour counting down to the date my anxiety about the return is starting to well up in the pit of my stomach.

I originally left the employment because I grew to detest it. Deep resentments had developed about the hours and conditions enforced in the workplace to a degree of unhappiness that made it impossible for me to face another day there. The situation at work had started to make me feel unwell. Stress and anxiety saw me visiting my doctor who suggested anti-depressants, some time off work and an eventual return to the workplace. I thought it best to simply cut and run.

I thought another job would be just around the corner and that a change of scenery would make me happier. Unfortunately in this small town employment is hard to come by and another position was not forthcoming. Currently being unemployed and not being entitled to any form of un-employment benefit from the government has placed me in a very precarious position. In short I need to go back in order to meet my financial commitments, pay rent and eat although I worry about the implications for my mental health.

Fortunately my schizophrenia is under control with the help of my medication and I have my alcoholism under control with the help of alcoholics anonymous. I know I must return. I know it is the responsible course of action to take but it is a struggle mentally to accept the situation. I feel though that my hands are tied and I have now to just accept the situation, bite the bullet, and make the best of a bad situation.

I have had these feelings of anxiety destroying me for a while now and having unloaded it to this journal wish now to try and forget about my return to work and get a good nights sleep. A little white pill called valium is my ticket to that sleep tonight. I just hope the anxiety is gone tomorrow when I wake...

Selfish Alcoholic...

I Picked up my new/used car today and it being tuesday my first drive was to my weekly meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. Once again I didn't really want to go as I was comfortable watching television in a nice warm house. This weeks meeting saw four of us attending in a small, cold catholic school classroom near the local church. In the many years attending A.A. meetings (in between drinking bouts) I have always been used to meetings of twenty people or more so having only three or four people at a meeting is taking some getting used to. It always amazes me that when I don't want to attend a meeting, and I still go, that something is usually said that really sticks for me.

I related immediately to one member described his drinking habits as starting off "having a few..." and then having his selfishness kick in. After it kicked in he then always decided to have a few more. After a few more nothing else matters, not the wife and kids at home, not the financial consequences of continuing to drink, not the legal implications of (eventually) driving home drunk, not the possibility of an accident along the way or possibly killing some other person in the process... Nothing else matters anymore. Just the selfish actions of a selfish man who can't stop drinking and puts everything else a poor second to his addiction.

I never started off drinking to be selfish. It was always to be "normal" and have "just a few" but it always became a very selfish act. Not caring of the consequences after that "few" became several and then many. Drinking abandoned to selfishness. It is good to remember what I am like when drinking. It is good to have the memories reinforced. It is a reminder of my true nature when inebriated, that of just another selfish alcoholic...

Quiet day...

Quiet day. I made it to the chemist for my repeat of anti-biotics this morning. Walked back avoiding chat with one of my neighbours. This afternoon I finalised my new vehicle with the "car bloke" and went to the bank and picked up the cash.

It is a sign of the times that even in this little (crime free) town, the equally little bank has installed glass partitions between the tellers and the customers. I suppose insurance or occupational, health and safety was the deciding factor. It was strange to be so separated from the well known locals that work there. The staff were complaining that they couldn't hear the customers properly and that they were "cooped up in a fish bowl now..."

Nothing much to blog about. I can't wait (again) to get some "wheels" tomorrow...

Big Brother...

Well after 100 days the television show Big Brother is finally coming to an end. I have to admit I avoided the program for about 98 of those days. Sucked in in the last 24 hours I have taken an interest in who will win the $450,000 prize money. I imagine it will be a topic of conversation after the programs completion and feel I should at least know the basics in order to be social.

Today otherwise has been very quiet... nicely so. The day was spent watching old movies on television eating potato chips followed by a dinner of mushroom and tomato omelet served on toast. Tomorrow I need to have a prescription filled at the chemist and then arrange to collect my new vehicle. I can't wait. Sleep evaded me last night and I did not fall asleep until around 5 am this morning and then only for a few hours. I am now so tired I feel sleep will come easily tonight...

Lord of the rings...

A few years ago my lady and I went for a holiday to the South Island of New Zealand. Arriving in Christchurch we hired a car and travelled south admiring the changing landscapes. Queenstown and the magnificent surrounding countryside was outstanding. Quite simply we fell in love with the place. The area was used for the filming of the "Lord of the Rings" movie trilogy and the scenery was absolutely breathtaking.

When we travelled, winter was just beginning and the mountain caps of "The Remarkables" (above) were covered in snow. The weather was cool as we drove down to Milford Sound through the "Homer Tunnel" a 1.2 kilometer tunnel through the mountain descending toward the Milford Sound. (below) My lady was terrified on the approach to the tunnel and I remember small cries of "No...No...No..." as we entered. The entrance was small and the way unlit. It was quite unexpected on the road we traveled and once upon it you were committed to enter. There was no turning back.

Construction of the tunnel commenced in 1935 as a Public Works scheme employing 5 men using picks, shovels and wheelbarrows. Although construction was fully mechanised in 1946 the tunnel wasn't completed till 1953. Following the amazing experience we travelled from the southernmost areas of the South Island up the east coast through to the city of Dunedin then finally back to Christchurch for the flight home.

I often think of the adventure and If I were ever to immigrate from Australia, the South Island of New Zealand would be my choice...

Ten and a half hours of hell...

I thought there would not be much to post about today and until late this afternoon there wasn't. I received a phone call from an old employer at a place I used to work. He offering me my old job back. I don't know why but I accepted straight away. I should have said "Oh can I think about it and get back to you". No they had me... the lure of a weekly stable wage from a full time job attracted me immediately. I have pondered since answering the call the wisdom of returning.

The reason I left the job originally was because of the physically demanding and dangerous work, and the mind numbing repetitious routine, the long arduous hours, the sad downtrodden co-workers and because there was absolutely no possibility of advancement... ever. Five hours of these working conditions then a half hour break followed by a further five hours. Ten and a half hours of sometimes hell. The only real advantage to the position is that weekly pay packet that I really need right now.

So it's back to working, back to breathing a constant supply of fine sawdust, back to being deaf from a ten hour shift of earmuffs and back to watching the minutes tick slowly by as I struggle through the shift and overtime. I know I'm crazy, I have a diagnosis to confirm this undeniable fact but until saying I would go back I didn't know I was absolutely and completely insane...

Cars and kangaroos...

It finally it looks as if my new/old car will become a reality. It still hasn't had its clutch fixed as the mechanic went away during the week. It sits forlornly waiting for its repair. It is a twin cab datsun utility and has the options installed that I find necessary, a towbar for my 7 X 4 trailer and a bullbar on the front for kangaroos.

I have over the years encountered several roo's and one black wallaby driving country roads at night and the damage caused when hit can range from a broken headlight to a total write off of your vehicle. Driving at night always holds the danger of the animals simply springing onto the road and into the path of your car. There is little you can do to avoid them sometimes and the death of a kangaroo is sometimes an unavoidable consequence of the event. I will be able to drive at night with a little more confidence now which will be refreshing.

The other night for my A.A. meeting I had to borrow a car. The car was a newish sporty Honda and I was very paranoid every inch of the 20 or so kilometers of dark country road between towns. I have had a few close encounters with kangaroos on this particular stretch of tarmac. The thought of an unavoidable encounter in someone else's car had me driving way below the speed limit on the deserted road. I knew the car was fully insured which made me feel a little better.

The new ute, a towbar and a bullbar, everything on my wish list...

Quiet of the night...

As the night draws nearer the midnight hour, I have finally settled mentally. Outside it is dark as there are no streetlights near where I live and it is incredibly quiet. The air is cold and crisp and the sky is clear with a million stars shining down on my small town. There will be a frost on the lawns tomorrow and possibly a shrouding fog on the lower areas of the creek.

If I were to travel down to the towns centre I would find an abandoned landscape void of cars and silent. The curtains will be drawn on the pub windows. Tonight I will sleep knowing that no dangers lurk in the quiet darkness. It is the morning I fear. Will it hold the dread deep inside me that I have been experiencing these past mornings... Tonight though, I sleep.

Blue Wrens...

When I first came to town I purchased a 10 acre block of land just out of town with a little creek and a long history. The block had a very small, old house on it that burnt down many years ago. Un-occupied for so long the land is home to kangaroo's, echidnas, snakes and a multitude of bird species sustained by the trees, insects, grasses and regular supply of water.

The land near the creek has a small orchard with very old fruit trees on it. Pears, plums, quinces and fig trees have grown untended for such a long time. Generations of silver eyes have feasted on the figs each year and parrots pick at the pears each season. Of all the birds it's the Superb Fairy-wren I like the best.

Each summer small families of the bird "hippity hop" through the grasses around the fruit trees searching for insects. Only the dominant male is blue with the remainder of the females and immature males being a drab brown/grey. They nest near the ground in the blackberry thickets on the creek and in the remnants of an old, fallen fruit tree in the middle of the orchard.

I miss the lazy afternoons/evenings in the summer watching the little wren families scuttering about on their daily business. It is the colder months that keep me away from the block of land that (finances permitting) I wish one day to build and make my home. A home with the trees, animals and fairy wrens...

Alcoholics Anonymous - 2nd Meeting...

Lying on my bed this afternoon I just wanted to block out the world. It had been such a dreadful day for me from the moment I had woken up. I was pleased with the outcome from the doctors this morning and should have been happier but wasn't. I just feel I could be a lot happier in life and I am not. I can't find an appropriate reason for not feeling better, I just seem not able to.

I had confused today (tuesday) with monday and remembered late in the afternoon that tonight was my weekly meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. I couldn't work up the inclination to attend the meeting and thought up a half a dozen reasons in my mind for not attending. I remembered an old-timer of AA saying to me "when you don't want to go to a meeting, that's when you need one...". The last thing I thought I needed tonight was A.A. rhetoric, another excuse I thought, so I dragged myself off to the meeting.

The drive was just over 20 kilometers and I arrived just as the other two attendees were opening the church hall doors. When I first arrived I thought an hour for only three people, this is really going to drag and I did not feel like sharing anything. I was still in "hide away" mode and it had taken the greatest of efforts just to "attend" let alone "share". The speaker opened the meeting and asked the other bloke to share first (thankfully).

I was amazed to hear just how similar our story's were, military background and the troubles in life alcohol had provided us. He was articulate and descriptive and I found his sharing somehow therapeutic. By the time my turn came I was amazed how relaxed I had become with the situation that at first I harboured so much scorn for. By the end of the meeting I felt the best I had felt all day and was glad that I made the effort to attend after all.

I now think my depression today was probably just that of an "un-medicated" alcoholic, pure and simple...

No cancer...

Saw the doctor this morning and the biopsy showed no cancer. The wound on my neck however is infected and I have a course of anti-biotics to complete, so all is well. I woke up feeling dreadful. "Full of dread" would be an apt description. For all of the good news, I am still having a rough day. I may post more later... I may not.

Risperidone Conte take two...

Back from my walk to the doctor, the post office and the shop. The weather is simply glorious out there and I really did enjoy the walk and my brief respite from my dwelling. The wait at the doctors was not too uncomfortable as I waited for the nurse to administer the second of my bi-monthly injections of Risperidone Conte, an anti-psychotic I take for my schizophrenia.

The doctor called in to check his surgery from the other day on my neck and for some reason squeezed the wound causing me some pain. He said it was a bit red and seeming in a hurry left and said he wants to see me again to-morrow. I hope it is not something nasty emanating from the biopsy results. Tomorrow will tell I suppose.

I called past my "car man" only to be told that it will be a few more days. He offered me a few more cars to look at, but I am still primarily interested in the first one offered so I will wait. My walk took me to the post office to check my post box where I was trapped into general chit-chat from the postmaster and a bloke I know from the pub. Continuing my morning travels caused me to walk past the pub itself with a few casual waves through the windows from some of the patrons I know. A visit to the bank followed securing a $20 note, then to the supermarket for cheese snacks and a bottle of coke.

All in all a very mundane, boring morning to have bothered posting about. I am however pleased to have returned home with change and munchies from that $20 as any other time there would be nothing to show from it after turning into the pub...

Someone rang...

The phone rang...

"Hello", "it's Gordon here, where have you been?" "Just at home mate, I haven't been well and I have been having a little break from the pub" my reply. I didn't tell him that it was because I had decided to give up drinking. "Oh that's alright" Gordon continued, "I thought you might have left town" (laughs). "I haven't seen you all week."

After reassuring him I was indeed still in town I added "You cant get rid of me that easy... I love this town". I told him about the mole being cut out of my neck and said it was very sore when I moved my head. "The incisions about a quarter of an inch and has several stitches." I used it as my excuse for my absence from the pub.

"I heard your car had broken down?" "Yep' Gordon, the motors blown but I'm waiting on a new car, a dual cab ute, maybe monday" to fill him in. General chat and information including him hurting his foot on a ladder in the orchard where he works filled the next few minutes.

"Oh well, I thought I'd ring and check you were o.k." as Gordon ended the call. "Thanks mate... your the only one in town who's noticed my absence... that's very nice." I added I would call in and see him later in the week and said goodbye.

You get to know who your friends really are at times...

Time zones...

One benefit to living in a different time zone, the more I delve into blog reading, is being able to get up in the morning and read the updated American blogs and then in the afternoon/evening catch up on the blogs from my own timezone. Some of my morning blogs have become a sort of ritual to me. I am following quite a few now after slowly accumulating a collection of ones that interest me.

I have all but given up on using the next blog button because of the number of advertising and "money making" inspired blogs that proliferate the listings. More annoying are the blogs that remove the next blog button from the top entirely. I suppose the logic is that without the next blog button you will somehow be compelled to investigate the content as if there is no escape. It became too annoying hitting the back button to re-click the next blog button.

Recently I have been googling blogspot blogs on topics that interest me. Today has seen too many Harry Potter fans gushing about the last book. Only released such a short time ago... So much for a leisurely read of a treasured manuscript. It seems it was a speed reading contest, with those people who finished first being the winners. I have had enough for today...

Gold Fever...

"Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold." William Shakespeare.

I often look at the landscape around my town, the old gold workings, a century or more old. (Gold was first discovered here in the 1850's) I ponder the times when "gold fever" brought men from every nation to this fledgling town in the hopes of making their fortune. Huge amounts of the precious metal was recovered from the creeks, gullies and shafts that literally litter the area. I have met modern day prospectors in town that guard their own secret "claims" jealously, so I know gold is still "out there somewhere".

When I first arrived in town I went as far as buying a gold panning dish. It was not the traditional metal variety but a black plastic model with raised ripples around the interior to catch the heavier gold as the water washed away the sand and gravel from the dish. The color of the dish was to highlight the yellow metal so as to allow for easy identification. I did in fact try it out a few times in the creek and found a few specks for my efforts, but I think the old timers had definitely been over my selected area many, many times in the 150 years previous.

Surfing gold prospecting sites today I learned much about the modern detectors available today that claimed to re-discover lodes left behind by my historical prospectors. My area is a government approved fossicking area. I think I may have gold fever but whether I am prepared to fork out the "gold ransom" required for one of these high tech detectors is another matter. Upon retrospection of the day I think my gold obsession is more closely linked with my mental illness than anything else, but who knows...

Passing the pub, creeks better...

Yesterday I made it out of the house with a little urging from my girlfriend. The day's weather was glorious and besides I needed to enquire about the delivery date of my "new" car. The walk down the main street took me to the car repairer who I was purchasing the car from. The large roller door was wide open, cars in various states of repair were stacked end on end out said door and vehicles were parked outside near his un-official car sales yard, but no proprietor was to be found anywhere. It is a testament to the safety of this small town when you can simply abandon your business, leaving to destinations unknown, leaving everything as it is without bothering to lock up.

I continued my walk down past the local pub and was greeted by some of the regular drinkers outside on the footpath who were having a cigarette (it's now illegal to smoke inside a licenced premises in this state). "G'day, hows it going" casual greetings, "great thanks" casual replies. No-one commented on my absence of now nearly a week. No-one seemed to care or comment that I had not taken that right hand turn into the establishment. Ordinarily that turn into the pub, upon crossing the threshold, would have seen my "usual" first schooner of beer lined up on the bar before I actually reached my usual drinking spot.

I felt relieved at the non-attention of my actions but deep down a little disappointed. These were indeed 'fair weather" drinking partners that really did not concern themselves with my recent absence. They were more concerned with finishing their cigarettes in the fastest possible way to get back inside to continue drinking. I "lapped" the small main street whilst pondering whether or not to extend my walk down the creek towards the "falls". Deciding eventually to just pass back past the pub (on the opposite side of the road) and re-attend the car bloke in case he had returned, he hadn't.

Across the road was the mechanic I was told was repairing the car so I decided to saunter across and enquire as to the car's progress. "I hear your fixing the car I'm going to buy?" "No" the reply "no" (wink). It "clicked" to me. He was repairing the vehicle, just not for the owner of the shop he worked for. I knew then I would have to wait till after his days off on the weekend. I walked back towards home but detoured down a small dirt lane that intersects the creek just to see how it was flowing after our recent rains. It was bubbling along nicely and as I realised after my walk so was I. I returned home to again read in the local rag about wild dogs in the area and hence my previous post. I was however proud of myself for passing the pub...

Wild dog problem...

Wild dogs are becoming more of a problem in the areas surrounding where I live. Reports of stock losses appear bi-weekly in the local paper. A few years ago I was camping in a nearby old growth eucalyptus forests and was astounded at the amount of dog droppings filled with marsupial fur littering the pathways through the area. One night my camp was surrounded by a pack of dogs I think attracted by a combination of curiosity and the smells of cooking food.

It was quite a frightening experience as these animals had no real fear of my presence at all. I thought of just how easily I could have become just another feed for a hungry pack. They stayed on the perimeter of my small camp for 10 to 15 minutes and then with a bark from one of the dogs all raced off into the distance till they were out of sight. Some of these dogs were simply huge and were more than likely hybrids of the local Dingo and introduced canines. I suspect the gene pool had been enhanced by hunting dogs lost by their (pig hunting) owners whilst illegally hunting in the national park. There has been a surge of inter-breeding by hunters of dog breeds such as pit-bulls, bull mastiffs and other large hunting type breeds intermingling with both native dogs and other feral dogs alike.

Sadly this situation has all but bred out the pure blood Dingo although I did see one recently briefly whilst driving through the Namadgi National Park last year. It looked pretty pure to me, right colour, size, with a shorter tail, all the attributes of a real pure blood. All around Australia attempts are being made to keep pure blood populations separated from domestic dogs in an attempt to save the unique species.

Calls are being made to introduce aerial baiting of 1080 poison and although this has proved to be effective in the past for feral dogs, foxes and cats, it is also the demise of other carnivorous species such as the native Quoll. I think cage trapping and professional shooters are a more viable option for the eradication of the feral species, that and responsible ownership of domesticated dogs that are lost on hunting expeditions or simply left to roam in towns nearby to bushland...

Too much caffeine...

Today has involved way too much coffee. I must have had 8 or 9 cups so far today. I just can't seem to stop drinking it. It is possible I am substituting the liquid for my usual intake of alcohol. Combine the caffeine with my chain-smoking of cigarettes and it has been a very unhealthy day. I am actually feeling quite ill from it all now with the cigarette smoke inducing a gag reflex from my throat before the smoke is finished. I have an ashtray full of half and two-third finished remnants placed around the ashtray like some form of bizarre artwork.

So I have once again been holed up in my flat having spent the day reading blogs from Canberra, a city I once lived in. All the curtains are drawn, my dial-up internet removed any phone calls and I have no vehicle parked outside to indicate if I was home. The view out of the toilet window (visited many times because of the coffee) indicated a lovely day outside, sunny with a clear blue sky over the long disused gold mines of the surrounding hills.

If I had my vehicle I am sure I would have "escaped" for a drive on one of the dirt back roads of my village just for the escape. There is a waterfall down the creek that I could have sat and pondered next to. I could have walked there but I am avoiding that walk because it would take me past the pub that I have become determined to avoid. It was safer to just stay put at home. I can't wait to get my car...

Red Kangaroo

I have been very self absorbed of late in my postings on this blog. This post is about something of concern to me and of which I have passionate opinions...

When I was a kid the Red Kangaroo was plentiful. They were culled because of their numbers for competing with cattle and sheep for grazing resources, they were shot to supply the pet food market and they were shot on mass for sport but still they were plentiful so not at danger of extinction. That was when I was a kid. Today it is a much different picture. Today an industry has developed and expanded with the Australian Governments full support which is blind to the realities of sustainability of the industry it sanctions.

Today the Australian Government promotes this animal, this Australian Icon, as a marketable and supposedly sustainable resource. An industry that hunts the kangaroo for profit. Australia now exports 3 or more million kangaroo skins annually. The government sanctions a quota of over 6 million kills annually. These skins are used for football boots, some are used for golf gloves, baseball mitts and other sports goods.

Unfortunately for kangaroos, the Red Kangaroo, in particular (which is larger and therefore worth more), the gene pool is being diminished to the point of no return. All the large males are targeted as the most valuable leaving the smaller animals to reproduce when conditions oblige. Immature animals "joeys" are killed as worthless. In the 1960's the average age of a Red Kangaroo was 12, today it is 2. Professional roo shooters have virtually cleared the western parts of the state of New South Wales and are now lobbying for access to national parks and reserves to maintain quota numbers.

The national drought has also severely affected kangaroo numbers as the animal naturally restricts it's breeding cycle when climatic/rainfall conditions are adverse. The wild harvest of these animals is NOT sustainable. I see no problem with the industry if they were farmed but they are not and the wild population is being genetically decimated at current levels of slaughter.

"The largest massacre of land animals on the planet takes place in Australia each year. Millions of adult kangaroos are shot for their meat and skins. Millions of orphaned baby joeys, "worthless" to the industry, are shot, stamped on, clubbed over the head or abandoned to die." From the Save the Kangaroo website .

I think the Australian Government does a wonderful job of covering up this disgraceful situation. The resulting industry is reminiscent of the government bounty placed on the Thylacine or Tasmanian Tiger (now thought extinct) and it is interesting to note that the government listed that animal as "protected" the same year as the last one died in captivity...

Melanoma?

Some times it never rains but it pours...
Realising that my current medical certificate was running out I (once again) this week attended my local doctor to get my certificate extended. I had noticed a mole on my neck had changed color, had grown in size and become itchy over the past few months but had put off or forgotten to have it checked. Today I decided to "kill two birds with one stone" and asked the doc to have a quick look. After the doctors examination the possibility of it being a skin cancer or melanoma was real and quite frightening.

My doctor is also a surgeon and decided quote: "If in doubt, cut it out" so I was surprised when he decided to cut out the mole and surrounding tissue for a biopsy straight away. I went into his surgical room, was administered a local anesthetic and 20 minutes later had the offending mole removed, stitched and the wound dressed. I saw the offending mole and was surprised at it's size, about the size of a small marble. Now I must wait for the results of the biopsy to return.

I am sitting at the computer with the anesthetic wearing off and feeling the impact of the surgery now. It pains me to turn my head and I am finding that swallowing food and liquid is an uncomfortable experience. I am reading up on skin cancer and melanoma trying to ascertain if mine looked benign or cancerous. Silly I know but it's the paranoid part of me hoping that this isn't a sign for the worse. It is probably nothing and if it's not I hope it is a more treatable form of skin cancer and not melanoma at all. If it is melanoma I hope it hasn't spread because I left it so long getting it checked.

Ordinarily I would have left the doctors surgery and headed down to the pub for some anesthetic of a different kind. I really am glad that I attended that A.A meeting last night and I am glad that my anti-psychotic medications are at an acceptable level.
I just can't help worrying though...

First Meeting...

Yesterday I looked up A.A. meetings online and discovered that the tuesday meeting's were alternated between my small town and the larger town 20 odd kilometers away, but, didn't indicate which meeting was which week. A call to the Sydney main office of A.A. Australia secured two names and two phone numbers one of which clarified that this weeks meeting was to be held in my small town.

The weather was dismal last night, very cold and sleeting with rain when I left for my first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting in several years. I drove past the catholic church on a street with no lighting and found myself doubling back to drive past roadworks that prevented access to the school sections hall. Finally I entered the church driveway (also unlit) and drove past the church and towards the rear of the school. In the distance I could see light emanating from two small windows and as I drew nearer could see two cars parked outside the building from which the lights shined.

As I approached the shining windows a head poked out the door and I wasn't sure if I had found the right place. I think I expected more people or at least more cars. I expected to find people milling around the doorway smoking cigarettes and chatting about sobriety. This was not to be so. The head out the door extended his hand welcoming me to the meeting but was surprised as he was expecting some of the regulars and not this newcomer.

I walked in and discovered this to be a meeting of three including myself. Apparently there were usually a few more but the inclement weather may have kept the others away. People sometimes travelled from neighbouring towns near and far. Meetings at one time I was told numbered at least 3 a week between the towns some years ago but had dwindled to one. They were however happy to have me there and probably appreciated the "new blood" to this obviously dwindling membership.

The chairwoman opened the meeting and spoke for about 20 minutes, the second member followed for about the same time and then it was me. I found the time I was allowed liberating as I had a lot to get off my chest. I had in the past been used to sharing time being limited to a few to 5 minutes in duration in larger meetings and definitely not the opportunity to share in every meeting. I was surprised how effective such a small meeting could be and was told that it only takes two alcoholics to constitute a meeting.

The time passed quickly and I was soon home feeling very satisfied with the experience. Next week's meeting is in the larger neighboring town and I was assured there would be a few more members attending. I will research where other meetings are held when I get my new vehicle as I don't mind travelling some distance to attend other meetings. All in all I am glad to be back in the rooms of A.A. and maintaining some sobriety. I know for a fact it will be good for my mental health...

A better day...

Re-reading yesterdays posts reinforce my belief in what was a really dreadful day for me. Last nights sleep was disturbed and I woke up feeling dreadful but determined to accomplish some positives in my life today. I travelled via a lift from a friend to the social security office in the next town this morning. I sat in the waiting area whilst a small child played in the automatic doors near where I was sitting, allowing the cold to engulf me each time she activated the opening. The office was slow as one after another of the poor souls in the waiting room inched their way to their turn. next...

Finally it was my turn and I enquired as to the status of my application which I had lodged 3 weeks ago. The officer seemed to take forever as she stared at the screen which obviously held my applications information. "Your application is not yet finalised" "it could take 28 days... or less" she said. "Thank you" my rely as I left as I have long since learnt of the futility of a verbal exchange with the officers of that government department.

I did some shopping for the week in the (cheaper in that town) supermarket to ensure I was fed for the rest of the week and then proceeded back to my small town to enquire about my new/second hand vehicle. It was at the local mechanics getting it's clutch fixed still so will have to wait a few more days for a result. I feel good knowing I have the money for it stashed safely away and would really be in trouble without a reliable vehicle.

I have managed to borrow a car for tonight's trip to the local Alcoholics Anonymous meeting held in the Catholic Church hall and remain determined to once again get back "on the wagon" with my drinking. I have graced the hallowed rooms of A.A. many times over the past nearly 20 years and wonder where my life would be (mental illness not withstanding) if I was some form of old-timer now if I had stayed with the program. Fantasies aside I am again a newcomer.

So far I have accomplished what I promised myself last night, to do today and am feeling better than I did when I first arose. Today is a better day so far...

Medications kicked in...

Told by my girlfriend tonight that I smell.
Showered now and eaten 3 poached eggs on toast. Feeling better but tired. Still wired though.
Plan for tomorrow, get ass out of bed early, see social security about sickness allowance, try and acquire car, get to an alcoholics anonymous meeting and try and get my life back on track before my finances are non-existent. (from continued drinking)

The excuses I use for drinking are getting very tired. Even I don't believe my own excuses anymore. I realise that I self justify my drinking as wanting to feel better when all I really want to do is "get out of it" and in the end it doesn't make me feel better, only worse. At least I have gotten to step 1 of AA's program 1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol - that our lives had become unmanageable.

Tomorrow is another day and I am determined to make it a better one...

Moral hangover...

Just woke up from a 4 and a half hour sleep, and I feel like sh*t. I really must get a grip on my binge drinking... I don't think it is so much the beer that hurts but the large glasses of port that do the damage. My poor liver. I tried searching for A. A. meetings online last night, not online meetings but real life ones near where I live. The nearest is in a larger town 24 kilometers from home on tuesday nights I would like to start attending but not having a car at the moment puts an end to that plan for a while.

Today's outing did provide a lead towards another second hand car however, a subaru brumby ute. The bloke that owns it said it is registered and that he has no need for it at present but couldn't give me a price on the spot so I will find out tomorrow. I hope it's cheap I hate being tied to the one spot at present with only a walk down the main street (getting past the pub without going in ) my only viable outlet. this is a very small town.

I am going to lie down and watch the idiot box and let my moral hangover settle down. I have taken tonight's medication and may indulge in a Valium to try and make the world a better place for me to be in my skin tonight...

Maybe a need for AA

After my last post I decided I needed to get out of the house. I still haven't had a shower and put on yesterdays, or the day befores, maybe longer, clothes. I discovered $15 in my change in my pockets and wallet and walked down to the main street and wandered into the pub shortly after opening time. I had 3 schooners of beer at $3.60 each and decided to end with a middie, $2.80 and a glass of port $2.30 that I didn't have enough for. The publican probably felt, as a good customer he would let me go and let me off with the shortfall of cash.

When I was broke I went to the auto-teller at the bank and discovering money there, so I withdrew a further $20. I went back to the hotel where I ordered another beer, placing the note on the bar as I went to the toilet. When I returned the change was on the bar, as was another schooner and another glass of port. I hadn't wanted the port, but, oh well, nothing left but to do but drink them...

Some schooners later and I was feeling pretty merry... I am home now and editing, and re-editing this post as I write. I don't even know why I am writing it. I think maybe I need to go back to A.A. (alcoholics anonymous). I was a long term member for years but struggled with it. I broke down many times on the program and struggled with the 12 steps. I struggled with sponsors and individual personality's within the organisation. I even got to the stage where I chaired meetings, but I was only fooling myself and everyone around me. I remain a mental drunk...

Mumbling man...

I realised this morning that I haven't left the house since friday morning, and haven't showered or shaved either ( I will force myself soon I hope ). I don't think the reduction in my medication is helping. I just feel listless and crazy at the same time. I keep thinking about a fellow in town I have run into a few times who stands, always stands in the pub looking out the window mumbling to himself non-stop. I find myself watching him when he isn't looking and trying to hear exactly what he is saying.

When I first came across him I thought he was saying something to me and being polite said "pardon" or "excuse me" when he spoke. I soon learned to try and ignore the behavior and make sure I am away from him now as in response to my querying I got a disdainful look in return. I feel empathy for him but my own phobias rise in his company so find distancing myself from him an acceptable relationship between him and I.

I mentioned him to Ben (another patron) who claimed he heard him say "I'm gonna' get a gun and shoot them all..." Ben reckons it's very disconcerting as he thought he is probably crazy enough to do it. He can talk normally and stops mumbling long enough to order further beers quite normally in a clear louder voice, only to return to the mumbling when the barmaid turns to fill his order.

I watched him from the pub window one day standing across the road with a cigarette paper in the corner of his mouth whilst he fumbled in his tobacco packet for some tobacco to roll a cigarette. Every time he attempted the maneuver his mumbling would force the paper out of his mouth and he would be forced to catch it as it tumbled on the breeze downward. He would place it back in the corner of his mouth and start again only to have the mumbling force the paper back out. He repeated the procedure several times until finally he was rolling the smoke free to mumble along with unconstrained abandon.

All my conversations go on in my head and thus far have not resulted in any vocal responses on my part so I can conceal from the people around me any turmoil that I am mentally experiencing. I can't help feeling sorry for him though...

Enough posts today...

Re-reading my posts today of which there have been a few I am realising how all over the place I have been. My mind has jumped from one thought to another and back again. I think I need a good nights sleep. That and a little helper to assist me getting there. I bid all a good night and hope for a better day tomorrow...

Prison and mental illness...

I have been reading several blogs dealing with schizophrenia today one in particular, The wife of a schizophrenic, caught my attention asking the question 'how many people are in prison because they have been failed by the Mental Health System?" My reply "plenty". I myself have been lucky many times, not falling through the cracks and being safely tucked away in the psych ward by the police and not the watch house.

Some years ago whilst un-medicated I was convinced that I was being persecuted by unknown, unseen but often heard and felt strangers, assailants who pursued me upon nightfall every night. They were in the ceiling peering at me through small holes and I was convinced they were trying to electrocute me via the electrical wiring under the floorboards. I would be left a manic, screaming mess unable to relax or drop my guard until sunrise when I could literally hear their vehicles parked somewhere unseen in the distance, leave.

Finally I could stand no more and was chased by these unseen assailants down the road (I lived in the country) 5 kilometers to a neighboring property. I was found waking the owners of the property up from their sleep. I must have been such a frightening sight... a madman at the door in the small hours of the morning gibbering about being pursued and wanting the police called to catch the tormentors I could never catch. Luckily for me the police involved checked to see my history and I was conveyed to a hospital ward and some medication and not the lock-up. One other occasion I was not so lucky waking in the corrective services remand centre to face a two week remand to court until the mental health tribunal finally released me to a psych ward under a mental health holding order. I still don't remember why I was there.

My problems had been ongoing for years and I was lucky that my history was well documented by the police, hence often provided with psychiatric care for my mental illness when these episodes occurred. Many others are not so lucky...

Thylacine

When I was a kid (about 16 in the 70's) I was hiking on the long plain in the Kosciusko National Park when early one morning I saw a strange striped "dog like" animal with a long stiff tail somewhat like a kangaroo belting off from the plain into the nearby thick bush. I later found pictures of the said animal (as above) which resembled the "extinct" Thylacine or Tasmanian Tiger.

Two problems arose with this sighting. No. 1, the animal had been extinct on the mainland for 5,000 years and was restricted to the Australian island state of Tasmania, and, No. 2 the last Thylacine died in the Hobart zoo in the 1930's. The last "wild" animal was reported around 1918 having been hunted for government bounty's of 1 pound (a decent amount of money at the time) to extinction.

I thought I was mistaken and just "seeing" things. Maybe not as the following may explain...

No. 1. Research in later years claim that breeding pairs of the animal had been brought to the mainland in 1910 by the then "Thylacine Preservation Society" and released north of Wilson's Promontory in Victoria. North of this is the Baw Baw Ranges which link directly to the Great Dividing Range that leads to Kosciusko.

No. 2. In recent days news reports of scats collected in the 1960's and lodged in a museum are being identified by DNA as maybe being those of the Thylacine. Possibly proving the nocturnal and shy animal was still around 30 odd years after the last known animal had died.

So who knows, a further 10 years (1970's) is not that much a stretch of the imagination and the possibility that the animals released in Victoria had found sanctuary in the rugged ranges of bush of the national park.

Perhaps they still exist today... I hope so.

Borderline

Whilst I was with my second wife (7 years) she had decided that she would diagnose me, so armed with the internet she decided that I was really a sufferer of BPD.( I am paranoid schizophrenic and happily medicated for it now thank you) I suppose she confused my deep seated paranoia as being an intense fear of abandonment, my mania's as fitting the symptoms of personality disorder. Finding there were no support groups for the disorder at the time (mainly for herself) she decided to start one, even renting a shopfront for the fledgling organisation.

She obtained referrals from mental health organisations and practitioners near and far. People came out of the woodwork from everywhere all looking for support for their unwanted diagnosis. She started a website for the "organisation" and wrote pamphlets from her internet research and even gained support from the hospitals psych ward and community police. Anyone who wanted somewhere to dump these people who nobody understood or knew how to effectively treat.

The endeavour began to invade all parts of "our" lives and she would spend most of her time "counselling" predominantly women who self harmed, often talking well into the night ,most nights, on the telephone. She effectively filled her life with the project. In hindsight having all these people around me sent me thoroughly "off the planet". It was the beginning of the end of the marriage. The marriage had been plagued by my episodes anyway, but this was the straw that broke the camels back so to speak.

She once described BPD as "bad persons disorder" which only reinforced my paranoia that I was a "bad person". It took getting away from her to defeat my own denial, get help, and treat my illness. She confused me for years...