Quitting weed – an update

Hey, just an update on my weed situation for those who reached out to me for advice and are in a similar boat with weed addiction.

I went cold turkey on the 9th of JAN. 6 days in I caved and smoked a spliff. I’ve been smoking 3 spliffs a day on most days. Some days I only smoke 2 a day, sometimes up to 5.

I’ve not gone back to the bong, and I’ve not bought any more weed and don’t intend to (I’m still smoking leftover kief). I smoke ciggies only with friends now, never alone.

EG: On Australia Day this weekend I ran into a lady I first met in Japan earlier last year, we had heaps of smokes on that trip, so when she asked me if I wanted to join her away from the party for a smoke I was more than happy to (turns out we had one of the greatest convos away from the party, go figure?!).

In essence breaking the bong was the big step, not having a bong to smoke out of means I can no longer get that bong hit. I’m not craving the bong hit because I’m really enjoying my new lungs. Now I can breath super deep without any sort of respiratory tickles and gurgles.

Keep in mind though that I’m on medication. I am now off the antidepressants, but still on the bi-polar/mood swing meds. The mood swing meds make me feel high as a kite in the morning so long as I have them late and very close to bed time. That way I get a solid 5-6hrs sleep too, more sleep than I’ve gotten in the past year.

So to summarise:
I’ve gone from smoking an ounce of weed a week with a bong to smoking at most 5 single paper jays a day (tobacco mixed with kief). I feel pretty good in the morning, singing and humming out loud even. My taste buds are out of control. Broccolini in a pan with salt and pepper and I’m legit in heaven. Music has come back into my life and I have music on at all times now (instead of gaming 24/7!). People; family and friends are starting to come back into my life. My brain is back, it’s sharp, a little bit loud up there without the stone, but I’m dealing by venting in stories for Medium.

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Late night Australia Day hangs with Viv

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unbuckle

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Australia Day/Mums B’Day

dessert
Indo food is mostly brown, even the desserts!

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Happy Australia Day Mum! So awesome to see mum happy!

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Love you Mum!

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Karaoke even!

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My brother from another mother Eugene dropped this off for me, his parents were doing a clean out and found my old Tamiya RC cars! UNREAL RIGHT?! Will do a proper shoot of these ASAP.

Happy Australia Day Mum!

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Do what you love

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Jim Carrey’s Dad was an accountant because being an accountant was the “safer” job. When Carrey was 12 his Dad lost his “safe” job and that fucked everything.

I’ve only ever run businesses which were directly related to my hobbies. IE: Stuff I was obsessed about. For example; I created a bike forum as I was mad about cycling. When I got off the bike I had more than a few people ask why they were a part of the bike community I had created, why were they wearing the brand and hanging out on the forums when the guy who created and runs the business doesn’t even ride anymore?!

Hobbies come and go. I got sick of starting a new business every time I got into a new hobby. Each time I started a new business it would take off (as expected as I do generally give things 110%), but over time I’d move on to new hobbies and new businesses only to find myself feeling guilty for taking benefits from these communities that my heart wasn’t in anymore.

ZEN GARAGE is an umbrella business. It encompasses all of my hobbies. The concept is to simply push, post and promote whatever it is I am into at this very moment. I am ALWAYS crazy about something, so I figure that if I can post exactly what it is I’m into RIGHT NOW, through ZEN, then I would never ‘get over’ or ‘get bored’ of this brand AND I can stay true as fuck as I’d be genuinely promoting what I love (right now).

7 years of running ZEN in this way has been far from boring. We’ve had huge ups and huge downs. Is the brand future proof? I doubt it, but there’s definitely a sense of longevity due to being more true to what I love.

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An open letter to Joe Rogan

rogan

Dude I love your podcast.

I shoot young naked babes for a living but a few months ago I wanted to neck myself. I’ve since come to, kinda, and a lot of the guests you’ve had on your show helped, a lot. I don’t want to suck your dick Joe. I want to suck Kurt Cobain off, Layne Staley, Jeff Buckley, Chris Cornell… oh wait, you never had those legends on your show! Well, love the show in any case! Really really want to be on it, not quite a life goal, but fuck it would be awesome to be real in front of so many.

X Justin.

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Can’t find a better man

cheating
Mic Test 1,2… 1,2. Calling out all cheaters, calling you all out.

Hard topic to talk about, and I’ve been wanting to talk about it for years. I’ve had sex with girls who were in relationships, a couple of them were married, the others in long term relationships. I’m trying NOT to beat around the bush here. I don’t want to muddle the word “sex” with “sexual advances” as God knows I’ve made plenty of those over my time (hey I’ve had my fair share of girls making aggressive sexual advances at #metoo).

With the girls: Fact is I knew what I was doing felt wrong but I went there anyways. I talk a lot and ask a lot of questions. I prefer my emotions out rather than in. More than a few times I’ve tried to bring up the deed in conversation but I’m usually faced with 1 of 2 things; 1) I’m made to feel silly for thinking anything of it! Are you seriously saying you’re feeling guilty right now?! Um, yes? Yes I am?! 2) I’m introduced to the concept of “keeping a secret” something I’ve never done and highly doubt I could ever do.

With the guys: I’ve always had closer girl friends than guy friends. I still do. I consider my friends wives to be my mates. It hurts then to see what I’ve seen on overseas trips with the boys. When I confronted the guys about the issue, I expressed that I was single, which somewhat gave me the right to do whatever I wanted, but you guys are married, with children! The response? Who the fuck are you to judge Justin? Floored. Speechless. I get it.

Back to the girls again: I crossed the line once and admitted to one of the girls what her guy was doing. What was the response? Shut the fuck up Justin I don’t want to hear it!!!

Back to the guys again: Just last year a mate was parading that he got a bare back blow job overseas. Congratulations man, you just gave your kids an STD.

I’m talking about it because everyone world wide seems to think that encouraging conversation is a great way to begin resolving big issues, but from what I’ve learned from experience; talking is the last thing the guilty want to do.

Also on MEDIUM: medium.com/@justinfox_30083/cant-find-a-better-man-be142dd0e416

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Your ABN has expired

australiangovt

Turns out my Australian Business Number has been expired for 5 years. Don’t ask me how, or why, fact is I have no idea. Fact is I’ve never gotten my head around business, or most things to do with it like GST, loopholes, forms, bills, it all feels like a conspiracy to me.

I remember a math game in primary school where we played I shot the sherif. The class was split into 2 lines. The 2 kids up the front would do a cowboy math shoot out, with guns drawn the teacher would yell out a math equation; “3 X 5 = ” and whoever was fastest to get the answer right shot the other down. I was always nervous as I got closer to the front because I didn’t know math. Instead I’d just focus my eyes really hard on the lips of the kid across from me and as they yelled out the answer I’d try my best to lip read and beat them at saying the number first, hey I even won a few rounds, so sad right?!

In high school I realised I really couldn’t do math. When it was time to get exam results I’d try my best to be confident and hope I’d get a decent mark but I failed every single math exam from year 7-11 and in year 12 I elected to drop math entirely, not even electing to take on 1 unit math (which the boys called Maths in Space).

Speaking of exams, the Higher School Certificate (HSC) exam in year 12 fucked me up hard. I failed my Yr 11 exams, which counted towards my HSC so my parents got me ‘at home’ tuition all throughout year 12. I hated it but it worked. I got 90’s in a couple of subjects which brought my final result to 74.5 TER.

I vowed after the HSC that I would never ever do another exam in my life again ever.

I spent 4 years studying a Bachelor of Design at the University of New South Wales, College of Fine Arts (UNSW COFA). No exams, everything was submission based which was great. I came outta there like a bat on fire as I took a gamble on web design. Right place at the right time. Before too long I was in amongst the Dot-Com Boom (AKA dot-com bubble) making 6 figures and pushing to make more with little to no idea what I was doing.

I ran a couple of design studios, founded the Australian INfront, monetised JDMST and VWG forums, Co-Founded ZEN Garage and have pretty much been doing graphic design work on the sidelines as a freelancer ever since I was in uni. I’m pretty fucking awesome in a meeting. I know how to get work but I have NO IDEA how to run a business. I have no idea about bookwork. I suck at using a calendar. I suck with numbers in general.

I don’t get how I can glance at the ZEN Garage online cart sales and see hundreds of thousands made, but only $5k left in the bank at the end of each year. I don’t get how I can sell $5000 of stickers and T’s at my car meet in cash, but not pocket the cash as it all needs to go through the bookwork. I don’t understand that everyone seems to tell me that I need to work the system and find loopholes in order to succeed, or find a ‘dodgey’ accountant that can get the max tax back each year.

It just feels to me like there’s always been a conspiracy against running small business in Australia, like everybody is just trying to make a decent buck, but the Government seem hell bent on taking too big a chunk. It feels far from something great, far from the ‘grass roots’ way of doing business which I prefer.

Business could be a positive word, but right now it just feels yuck. You know that slightly annoying guilty gut feeling you get when you look at porn? Like you KNOW something’s not right? Like you KNOW it’s dirty? I feel the same way when I look at the Government.

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If you’re going to help, then fucking help! – How to really help someone with depression

help

When you’re down in a hole you’re constantly reminded that logic will get you out. Every single person you know of will all of a sudden be the voice of reason; you need some sun, get back on your bike, move countries, if only they knew that every single fibre of your human being KNOWS that any, if not all of these suggestions are completely valid, BUT, when you’re in the hole it’s dark, you’re bent over, debilitated and unable. When you’re in a hole logic makes no sense at all.

Part of getting out of the hole is to stop ignoring the people who care about you and start accepting help. I’m pretty much out of the hole now and have had loads of clarity on the subject of accepting help, so hopefully by sharing these experiences I can help others help others.

For whatever reason I had a new credit card issued at some point. The new card had a new number which threw out the direct debiting of my bills. The bills piled up and I was being charged interest as I just couldn’t get around to opening mail. My mum (bless) decided to take over and she’s been getting payments up to date and reconnecting direct debit services. She noticed that Energy Australia failed to access my mains reading (out on the street) and for 3 months in a row charged me an estimate, but on the 4th month (being last month) they got access to my mains box for a reading and sent through an accurate bill PLUS a bill of over $1200 to pay for the excess use of energy (as they estimated way low for the 3 months they couldn’t reach my mains box).

The latest bill, and the additional bill for the 3 months I was undercharged, was taken out of my account direct debit BEFORE the date on the invoice which Mum wasn’t happy about so she asked if she could come over, get me to call Energy Australia to allow her access to my account so she could fight with them on the phone. Keep in mind at this time I had no ideas what she was talking about. I just snappily went through security questions with the Indian lady on the other end of the line and passed my mum the phone.

At the same time as mum was on the phone I had got a worker outside ripping off sheets of corrugated plastic off my deck roof. The wind here is something else at times and my roofs been falling apart a sheet at a time. I’ve been meaning to fix this for a year or more but just haven’t been able to get around to it. Instead I’ve just dealt with the flapping and crashing noises the sheets make on windy days (deafeningly loud btw but when you’re in a hole you just mix it in). I’ve got construction next door too. They knocked their house down and are now just at the end of a 1.5yr new home build. It’s been noisy for so long, in retrospect it can’t have been good for me to sleep in my lounge room which is closest to the flapping roof and construction next door!

I’m trying to zone out and play my computer game. Woosah. I got this. 2hrs later mum gives up and Dianne decides to give it a go. She jumps in there and starts blasting whoever it is on the other end of the line at Energy Australia. I see and hear something I don’t really want to see. If the girl I’m seeing is speaking to another human being in that way then surely in future she could speak to me in that way too? Yucky thoughts. I decide to stop everything and ask mum what the fuck is going on. She explains the dealio and I lose my shit.

Dianne was arguing for no reason at all as everything was right and as it should be. IE: Energy Australia undercharged me for 3 months as they had to make a guesstimate because the house construction next door blocked them from reaching my meter panel. I now was sent a bill to pay for the energy I used during those 3 months. For various reasons mum was angry. I get that, but what did she want? A refund of some sort? An apology? I wasn’t so sure in the end but I pulled both Dianne and mum aside and with a deep breath and in a very calm fashion I let them both know that OK; I get that you’re trying to help me, but if you’re going to help me, THEN FOR FUCKS SAKE PLEASE FUCKING HELP ME! I had to make it clear that the stressful vibe that was my mum and Di blasting nastiness over the phone started at 10am and went all the way through to 2PM and I needed them to note that despite good intentions, none of their efforts helped me at all.

The example above might be overkill, but it was a real moment of clarity for me. Sometimes when you’re in a hole you’re in your head and you just can’t reply because replying takes effort and when you put effort in you get grumpy and start blasting people. Another classic example; Di and I are in the car. Hey I’m out and about! Mum calls Di, Di puts mum on speakerphone and Mum asks if I’d like any lunch. I’m indifferent but hey, sure. Mum then asks what do I want for lunch and I almost lose my shit. I shut up because I know that’s the best thing to do when I get like this. Di noticing my dummy spit takes the call off speaker and speaks to mum, a few seconds later Di asks me that mum wants to know what I’d like to have for lunch…

I lose my shit again. FFS why is this so fucking hard?! Get me lunch, or not, it really doesn’t matter, but if you’re gonna help me then FFS just please, please fucking help me.

So I hope these examples can help to further understand how you can more easily help a friend who’s down. For me, it took a while to get going on my own power again, but you know you’re getting out of the hole when you start getting mad at the help, so mad because you feel that if you want shit done then you’ve got to do it yourself. That’s motivation right there! If that isn’t a wake up call then I don’t know what is!

PS: Sadly this reads better on medium than it does on my own blog (compare reading thew above to the same exact copy but on medium: https://medium.com/@justinfox_30083/how-to-really-help-someone-with-depression-d8705f1b346d). I’m keen to re-work this blog to make it easier to read (old man now, this small type is really doing my eyes in lol).

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Gratitude

Just wanted to express massive gratitude to all the Sydney Girls High, Sydney Boys High and UNSW COFA friends that have reached out over the past few months. I’ve read all your messages and they’ve all taken me back to the greatest parts of those innocent days. You guys somehow got me then and I’m honoured you still got me now!

I have great intentions to reply to everyones amazing messages, to catch up in real life… if I could teleport friends in and out I would! But the messages are building up fast and if I go there I might just drown (again).

Ever since I got any kind of traction, replying to every single message I’ve ever gotten has always been my thing. I always wished people would reply to my messages when I was younger, and hey I figured that you never know who these kids could be in future, so I was happy to reply to everyone, even all the silly/lazy questions.

But I’m tired and replying to everyone has gotten a lot harder. I understand there’s got to be a 2 way conversation, but right now I’m just trying to focus on creating once more.

So again; to all those who have sent me private messages, especially those who have played a part in making me me, THANKS SO MUCH for the love and sincere apologies for not replying.

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Ice-cream makes everything better

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I’ve got a scar across my left eyebrow from an incident I had in Primary School. I’m not sure exactly how old I was at the time (I was at Kensington Public School from years 1-3, so I assume I was 7-8 years old), but I remember a couple of kids had formed a tank/battering ram with their bodies; each kid had one arm around each other and the other arm pointing at me in a fist (thus army tank like?!).

They shoved me into the toilet blocks and cracked my head open. I remember seeing their faces in shock. I remember looking down at both my hands which were covered in blood. I remember a teacher rushing over to me. I have vague blurry images of being in an ambulance, but in the front seat, not the back.

I remember seeing my mum at the hospital and a nurse asking if they turned the sirens on for me (they didn’t). I then remember having a cloth put over my eyes whilst I listened to nurses as they stitched me up. I couldn’t feel any pain, but felt immense pressure on my head every time a stitch went through.

I remember them talking about my mum outside, and one of them saying an ice-cream will fix me right up. I remember getting that ice-cream too, and my grey school shirt was unbuttoned all the way down and my Clarks Koala singlet was bloody to my belly.

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