Thanks (but in some way no thanks) to all of the people who have been reaching out in private over the past few weeks. I’m sorry (not really sorry) that I haven’t been picking up your calls.

I’ve got my mum and Dianne is living with me and she’s been taking care of me for the last week and will be here for another week too.

Asking me if R U OK? is NOT real, or suggesting I get some exercise or catch up for a beer is part of the issue. If you know me at all you would know I out talk pretty much everyone, and I have absolutely no issues in talking (it’s more about doing in any case, right?!).

I’ve just spent a good hour and a half talking to Caryn, my first love of 7 years. She’s legit the best. As Aussie and a true Byron Bay hippie you’d ever meet. And quite simply I couldn’t commit to children at the time and that’s what split us apart.

During the call I yapped on about all the shit that matters to me right now, the feeling of being bullied as I seem to get banned off every social media platform these days for sharing something real and trying to make a difference, but in reality a lot of it doesn’t make sense to her in sunny Byron Bay…

Dianne and I have tried to spend serious time on trying to figure out exactly why I feel like ending it all, why I feel so so so so so tired of it all, and in the end I feel like I’m more frustrated than depressed.

In regards to weed. I’ve been smoking it since high school. In high school I was one of the few Asians in my class and I copped racist crap daily. It got to a point where in year 12 I literally set up my art canvas in the stairwell, jigged classes and painted whilst the rest of the school were in Latin class or some shit. When the bell rang kids would stream past me and see some weird little Asian dude painting hot chicks on a canvas with his bare hands.

In reality I smoked weed throughout my entire professional career as a graphic designer running my own agency (2 in fact). I created Australian INfront high as a kite. I spoke at Semi-Permanent for 1 hour in front of 3,000 people stoned, I created JDMST and ZEN Garage totally stoned too. Everything you guys have ever seen from me was created stoned.

Anyways, since taking these antidepressants (which I know in my gut were never going to be right for me) I haven’t at all been able to get it up (lol?). I wake up every morning with a dead dick… It’s just not right. I’ve tried wanking to all sorts of porn, nothing worked. I’ve also had a lady friend try to help out and again, nothing but embarrassment and feelings of emasculation (which in reality is legit making me even more depressed).

I’ve lost my appetite (I literally can only eat one meal a day). I also can’t shit on this stuff. It’s blocked my bowels up pretty bad and I find myself sitting on the toilet forcing it out daily now.

Is this shit better than weed? I mean, these pills are meant to balance out my head, inject serotonin or some shit. Why not give me an ecstasy tablet every morning instead?! That’s for sure going to do more than this crap.

End of the day my mind is not at all made up. Truthfully told I know I have ADHD and I’ve inadvertently been self medicating myself with weed which has allowed me to achieve everything I wanted to achieve in life (and more). I’ve committed to seeing my psychiatrist on Monday. I’m really fucking killing my mum and I know it and I am asking for help.

I’m on day 6 without weed. I can’t sleep. I am sweating profusely (literally wetting the bed with sweat every time I lay down) and I’ve coughed up a lot of hard, dark chunky deep down mucus which has actually made the biggest change as I had a little wheezing in my breathing before, and now I can take super deep breaths without any of that wheezing tickling my throat.

It’s not all been good though; on day 2 I had a huge fight with a friend who came over to pick up a few things. She left crying as I absolutely hammered her for no reason at all. I then kinda lost it and lunged for my medication and swallowed a whole handful of pills just to prove they do nothing at all, and yup, they did nothing at all…

I have moments of hopefulness, but generally speaking I don’t care. I’ve watched a LOT of Intervention shows this past week. It’s awesome that not all these people make it through rehab. I’d say it’s about 50/50. Some come back clean, healthy and on their way to a new life, some others relapse the very next day (and I’m totally OK with that).

I realise that I lost my shit last year in regards to any sort of balance with marijuana. 420 is about taking a smoke a 4.20PM and NOT at 4.20AM, which is what I’ve been doing daily for most of last year (and even the year before that) this has ultimately fucked me over as I’ve obviously lost any sort of balance with weed in my life.

I’m starting to think that I’m depressed about depression, but I’m willing to still try to make these antidepressants work as it’s obviously working for a lot of people out there (some people have mentioned they feel like a zombie on the drugs I’m prescribed right now but I swear I don’t feel a thing).

I have another appointment with Dr. Hyde next week. I’m going to have to get him to watch that Jordan Peterson clip I posted in my last post (where he states that the medication that he was given had a humongous affect on him). I have no doubt that I need stronger stuff for sure, give me the fucking A-bomb, if he doesn’t give me something that works I’m going to call it. I’m out.

Filth.

As I expected, pushing away friends wasn’t so hard. In the end all I have is mum. Mum is the only human being I truly like on this planet and it hasn’t been easy for her to hear that even my love for her isn’t enough to make me want to stick around.

I’ve spent the past few months trying to convince my mum that suicide would be the best thing for me, it’s obviously been hard for her to hear this come out during my psychiatrist sessions.

Suicide isn’t easy but fuck me dead I wish it was.

I live by the rocks at Maroubra Beach, the thought of jumping off those rocks has been pretty romantic to me, but the one night I tried to walk over there I got as far as the end of my street before I felt some sort of force field that made me turn around. No amount of research makes it easier either; they’ve taken out most of the shit in sleeping pills now to prevent people killing themselves, even gassing myself in my GT-R wasn’t a sure and safe solution.

IE: I am a wimp.

I’ve recently had a few divine interventions. I speak to my Dad in the way one would speak to God, and my father has given me so much strength, much like how God, or faith could be seen as giving a follower a lot of strength. I had a strong man of Christian faith pray for me recently, his prayer was to let God show me signs in the next week to prove to me that he exists. The sign happened too, it was so fucking undeniably a sign, but I still question God. Can’t help it.

Right now I’m trying to just focus on small steps.

I haven’t slept in my bed, or for longer than a 4hr block for a good part of the year. I shower once a week, twice at most. I brush my teeth only when I need to see people. I realise the hole I’ve gotten myself into is massive, but doing things like cleaning out my wardrobe has been working for me lately. I’m still gaming a lot but I’m playing an MMORPG (Black Desert Online) which involves a whole lot of AFK activities, which lets me take breaks and do other shit I need to do. I’ve realised I’m a hoarder too, so badly that I have one of 3 rooms in the house so full of junk I can’t even open the door. I’m on 2 types of meds which I’m still trying to dial in. I’ve cut down on the weed but I want to cut it out completely (rehab is on the cards if I fail a cold turkey attempt later this year). I’m seeing someone, she’s also a divine intervention, she’s hard on me, but that’s a good thing. I’m hard on her and that’s fucked, but I’m trying.

Woke up with an earring missing, thought I’d take the other one out too. No more earrings! #feelsgoodman