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...

Another day nearly over...

Went to my doctors appointment today. One week to the day since my injection for my mental illness. Was distressed to find the waiting room full of people and assumed that the doctor was behind schedule as he is often wont to be. To my surprise I was the next in and having waited only ten minutes could only assume everyone else were early for their appointments. Anyway it was a very brief visit with the doc only wanting to see how I was going. I told him I was struggling a bit and he wants to see me again in a week for my second injection... guess I'll just ride it out till then.

After the appointment I walked to the main street of town to inquire about my new (second hand) car which had arrived but was at the mechanics having it's clutch checked so will have to wait until monday. I proceeded to the pub for a few ales. Drank 4 schooners of beer going outside between beers for a smoke and returning each time to the mundane chit-chat. Was very tired when I returned home and fell asleep on the lounge chair in front of the television.

Woke about 9pm and went to bed. It is now 11.30pm and I am sitting here writing this post. While I was laying in bed my mind was full of things I wanted to put in this post but now the thoughts escape me so I think I will just go back to bed and await another day... goodnight.

A bloke at the pub...

A bloke I know at the pub said to me the other day "I am now a local" I said I thought he was born here in town. "I have been here 50 years" he replied. 50 years and he was now only defining himself as a local. I moved to town 2 years ago so I have a very long way to go before being accepted by the local townsfolk as truly fitting in.

Another local I met who is in his 80's once said to me "most people who move here have been chased away from somewhere else". I thought at the time this was a little insulting as I chose to move here for a slower lifestyle and to get away from the city "rut" I had slipped into. I needed to get away from the excessive drinking and drugging and the lowlife people I had somehow managed to acquire around me, who weren't really friends but just acquaintances I had collected along the way, who went hand in hand with my drinking and drugging. Maybe the old codger was right, maybe it was the people and lifestyle of the city that "chased me away" from where I was.

This town I credit with saving my life. I had gotten a compensation payout of $120,000 for injuries I had received working for a very unsafe business. I paid the legal fees of 12 grand and then binged $42,000 on drinking and drugging. I was un-medicated (well not legally) and extremely paranoid. I was hearing people stalking me in the roof and under the floorboards, seeing people hanging from the car whilst driving and on one occasion fled my home believing I was being chased by un-seen persons. I ended up detoxing in a psych ward yet again. Back on my meds I took the remaining $66,000 and bought a 10 acre block of land 2 kilometers out of this, my new town. I thought that it was best to remove temptation by "investing" the remaining money into something tangible before I wasted it on a "relapse" into my old ways.

I am now two years into my new life. I spent the first 6 months living in a shed on the block of land but now live in a comfortable flat in town. No-one knows of my past and that's the way I like it. Only another 48 years till I'm a local...

What's a Quoll?

The Quoll or native cat (genus Dasyurus) is a carnivorous marsupial native to Australia. They are a vulnerable species and the principal threats to the Spotted-tail quoll are:
Habitat loss and fragmentation, Human intolerance (trapping and poisoning), Competition from feral plants and animals such as foxes and cats, habitat modification, poisoning by 1080 baiting (this is a poison used to bait feral dogs and foxes), and land management practices like logging of habitat forests and periodical burning).

just in case anyone was wondering...

Woke this morning at 5 am...

I have spent the morning reading Andrew's blog - 4th Avenue Blues. I find his writing fascinating and added him to a new list on the right. I have also been utilizing the next blog button to see what else is around and interesting. I skip past the non-english sites and past the sex banner blogs of which there seems to be a lot. One site came up over and over, an asian gaming site which I assume is simply scamming the system somehow.

The television drones in the background and I have decided to "hide away" today after the last few days events. I am scaling down my risperdal intake (doctors plan) after my recent injection and feel that maybe the injection of risperidone conte maybe wasn't the correct dose... I don't know, best if I wait a few more days to see if things settle down to where they should be.

I will try and muster the energy to walk into town later as I am running low on tobacco but want to avoid the pub (hotel, bar) today, although I know a few beers would help my frame of mind. Alcohol and I don't mix well at the moment and a few could turn into a lot and that would make me feel worse...

Cooked Car

I went for a walk down to see the mechanic hoping that the problem with my car was something simple like a blown water hose. When I arrived wally said to me "you don't want to talk to me..." I said "give me the bad news". The car had a blown heater hose at first but ended up with water coming from between the head and the engine block. In a word cactus, dead, finito as I should have stopped driving when the problem occurred. Another one of my cars to the graveyard.

I walked down to the local shop which has a pin-up noticeboard out front hoping there may have been an ad for a cheap vehicle... no luck. The local panel-beater (who sells cars) was the next stop. He indicated a dual cab utility that he would have to bring from a neighboring town for $1500 with six months registration. I will have a look at it when it gets here.

Next stop was the local hotel where I had one schooner of beer to commiserate, then the walk home having been saved from yesterdays fate of too much alcohol consumption. Sometimes things just go from bad to worse and this has been one of those days...

Blackout

The power has gone out so am writing this on the trusty laptops batteries. They aren't in good condition so I don't know how long this will last.The job interview yesterday went well... I think. They say they will have made their decision by Friday week. I am still not going to build up my hopes. The car however did not go so well. As I was driving along I noticed what I thought was smoke coming up from below the drivers side floor and thought that I had dropped a cigarette end and that the carpet was burning. I stopped the car to extinguish the carpet and discovered that it was steam from the motor. It was only then that I checked the temperature gauge and saw that it was on the meltdown level.

I called into the service station near the interview and tried refilling the radiator to discover the coolant was coming out the bottom of the engine bay as quickly as it was being refilled.I limped to a service station I use closer to home with the engine starting to make strange noises and handed the keys to the mechanic in disgust adding " I think i have cooked it" I then proceeded to the town's watering hole where I drank 4 schooners of beer and a large glass of cheap port. It made me feel better but am feeling the negative effects this morning. I can't drink like I used to...The power just came back on.

Job Interview

Today I go for a job interview at a local timber mill. I am feeling a little unsettled about this. I have worked in other mills before and have the experience and forklift licences required yet still dread the interview process and inevitable questions that I will face. I am trying this morning to muster up confidence. I really want to show my best side and attributes but am nagged by thoughts of inadequacy that really are not justified. I will try to settle myself before the interview and will probably give my self a little helper called Valium, just for today, as I really try to limit taking it. I just wish the feeling of dread would go away...

Risperidone Conte

Well I got it wrong... today was the day for that first injection of risperidone conte. Now I scale down on the old medication. I just hope the dose is right. True to my fears the doctor was indeed late leaving me uncomfortable in the waiting room for a half an hour surrounded by geriatric patients having their medical needs seen to. Luckily none were in a chatty frame of mind so I was saved the mundane chatter.

The injection itself was an intra-muscular one applied to my buttock. A quick prick an uncomfortable pain and it was all over... now I just hope the treatment is as effective as the pills were. I am prone to worrying to much sometimes.

Risperdal

Off to the doctors today. I am settling in to a new medication called risperdal so have seen the doc 4 times in the past 3 weeks. I had been on Zyprexa for about 4 years but found that it had simply became less effective for my schizophrenic symptoms as time went on. The past weeks have seen my dose of the new drug increase to 4mg a day (started on 2mg, then 3mg, then 4) which seems to work for me. Strangely I will probably start going down in mg's before being switched to the injectable form of the drug today.

This will mean an injection every fortnight that releases a steady dose to me and removing my need to take tablets twice a day. I detest going to the doctors office as he is never on time and I end up sitting in the waiting room for an indeterminable period of time surrounded by people from my small town. I am not very good at smalltalk and suffer the discussion of the weather (usually), how many millimeters of rain we got and how well the town's creek is running. depending on my mood that day this experience can sometimes make me very uncomfortable...

Schizophrenia

I am a long term sufferer of Schizophrenia (a psychiatric diagnosis that describes a mental illness characterized by impairments in the perception or expression of reality, most commonly manifesting as auditory hallucinations, paranoid or bizarre delusions or disorganized speech and thinking in the context of significant social or occupational dysfunction.)

I have struggled with this diagnosis most of my life and have been through seriously difficult and debilitating episodes throughout my life until I found medication that has allowed me to pursue a life free from the destructive effects of the illness. Schizophrenia has cost me marriages, occupations and friendships. It has robbed me financially, emotionally and had me on the brink of suicide numerous times. I hate the illness and now accept it after a very long time of absolute denial which is the greatest stumbling block to effective treatment...

First post

Spent today browsing blogs. I found a few interesting and seemed to endlessly scroll through hundreds that did not interest me at all. My girlfriend was very patient with me as the process has consumed most of the day. I can be a little obsessive about things sometimes and this was certainly one of those times. I find the concept appealing so I have decided to give it a go. As I am very new to this I will now divert my attention to discovering how to manipulate this blog ( a bit like a kid pulling apart dad's lawnmower) I just hope I don't break it.