Thinspiration

After being super skinny my whole life I didn't see myself turning into a big fat queen.  Albeit it was because of the pills and booze plus midnight runs to the servo...  but I didn't see it happening.  I still thought I was beautiful even though I was huge and had really bad hair.  Like really bad.   I call it my Elizabeth Taylor phase as she loved them pills and booze.  Then I moved onto my Britney phase and lost it completely.  After my embarasing meltdown I'm on the mend.  Just got past the point when you look back in sheer horror at your behaviour.   Now I laugh.  You tend to do that when the pills wear off. 

I'm on a mission to regain my former svelte self.  I've cut out the booze and junk food.  Not popping all those pills helps an awful lot. How I miss the drink but I have many a memory and lots more I'm sure I'll never remember.
What makes it more difficult is that as I have gotten older a diet of cigarettes and coffee no longer do it.  I actually need food dam it.  And I do love me some deep fried goodness which makes things all that much harder.  I've lost 15 kg's so far and about another 5 more and I'll be happy.  Who would have thought happiness was based on how skinny you were? Well I hate to break to ya but it does.  Just like self worth is based on what other people think of you. 

Just in case you don't get it I'm joking.  If I didn't have a sense of humour I would have flung myself from the bridge many moons ago.  So the quest is on and the prize shall be mine.

Anxiety has always been a major problem for me, that's probably why I was such good friends with the drink.  Not all the time but I would get home from work and it would calm me down and make me feel relaxed.  Warm if you like.  After a while it wasn't working that well.  At the time I was working in the corporate world and might I add the drama that goes on in a big company.... huge.  Massive.  I was never involved though until someone dragged me in. Trying to take the attention away from them.  Comments were made to me and I freaked. Being accused of something I didn't do freaked me totally at the time.  Now I'd tell them to blow me and walk off, back then a different story. 

So freaked was I that I went to the doctor during work.  I was having  a huge anxiety attack.  After explaining to the doc what had happened she tried to talk reason with me but my body was having non of it.  Mind you this is the same doctor who told me my problems may come from my choice in 'lifestyle' so she's obviously not the smartest cookie in the barrel.  She agreed that she would give some pills to calm me down.  This my dears was the beginning of the end.  Being the pig that I am I went straight to the pharmacy and collected that script so fast.  To my suprise by the time I had walked back to the office I was feeling calm, clear headed and almost sane. Everyone was commenting how much better I looked and wondered why I was now so calm after being such a mess before.  Welcome to the world of xanax. 

The depression would come and go, I'd be up and down so I decided to venture to a different doctor and get referred to a shrink.  I was pleased with myself.  Happy I decided to seek treatment rather than suffer and struggle though everyday life. The shrink I went to see wasn't far from my place so I would venture off for my weekly visit.  The treatment plan wasn't working, the drugs don't work. I was feeling worse.  Then he prescribed xanax.  What a wonderful world I was living in now. Feeling good. What I was viewing and the reality were two different things. 

The dosages kept increasing as my body would get used to the effects.  Looking back now the people falling asleep in his waiting room should have been a sign he wasn't a great psychiatrist.   Great drug peddler yes, getting most of his patients on workcover yes, doctor no.   The longer I saw him the fatter I got.  The drugs really mess with your body.  I lost my abs and now had this lovely round stomach.  This doc was a joke so I went to a new one.  Supposed to be very good so I was told.  His conclusion was that I would never be 'fixed' and he felt sorry for me.  He increased my xanax, antidepressants plus valium and wished me the best.  This was the daily cocktail I was now on.  I didn't feel great but I wasn't super sad. 

Resigned to the idea that this was it I tried to get along with life. Albeit fat, super drugged out and increasingly isolated from my friends.  Then I got to the point where the drugs stopped working... again.  So I hit the bottle and mixing all those pills with wine is not a great move. 

Work was doing my head in so one day I just resigned.  Felt great. Sold my apartment and headed off overseas with my big bag of pills that would last me six months.  Big mistake.... huge.   Anyway I got back from the mess which was my overseas trip and I couldn't get off the xanax.  I would shake, have twitches and almost have a fit. It was awful.  I had never before realised it but I was an addict.  The doctors never explained the addictive nature of the pills or that it's very dangerous to just stop them. Dam what a spot I had myself in. 

Checked into a private clinic and got myself sorted. Rehab if you like.  Took about 10 days or so but it was well worth it.  Met some really interesting people. It's always good to be around others much like yourself when you accept you problem.   They made us all go to AA and NA as they felt that addiction is addiction and get help where you can.  Mind you after talking about booze for 2 hours all I wanted was a drink. Ok before but it made me want to cuddle up to a box of wine. Great help AA was..  ha!  The nurse agreed with me on this one.

What can I take away from this experience. There are a lot of doctors who are hacks and to them it's just a job like you or I go to. There are some very good ones but that can't be decided on how much they charge or how hard they are to get into. They are not gods!  My ex partners father was a doctor and he would say 'it's not hard to be a doctor you just need a good memory'

First Up

Well this is my first blog.  After searching the net for sites, blogs and anything else I could find relating to gay guys with bipolar I decided to start my own.  I found a few sites which were a great read but nothing much here in Australia.  There has to be others like myself out there.  I know I'm special but I'm not that special.

Let me tell you a little about myself.  Early thirties, country bred but living in the city.  Love the country but don't tend to connect to the people too much.  Maybe it's my eccentric personality or something but I prefer the pace of city life. 

I first suffered from depression when I was very young, maybe 6 or 7 I think.  The whole gay thing didn't help but that wasn't why I was depressed.  It seemed to hit me one day and has been with me ever since.  When I was 12 I first started on medication, prozac was the drug of choice back then.  It worked ok but it still reared it's ugly head and so several other medications were tried. By 16 I was referred to a psychiatrist  who diagnosed me with bipolar.  What a mess I have been ever since then!  LOL

Being of slight frame the medications took their toll on my young body. I was so spaced out, drugged and and feeling nothing at all.  The dosages were modified but I was still a mess and  hadn't even graduated yet. I managed to get though my final exams but I was so out of it that I was hospitalised shortly after.  I don't remember going to hospital but apparently I had collapsed due to the levels of medication and their effect on me. After a week of being monitored they decided that I no longer had bipolar and was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder. Oh how wrong they were.. again.

The next 10 years I thought I just suffered from depression. I managed it fairly well but as I had never not suffered emotional problems, I was resigned to the fact that this is the way I am.  Looking back now I can see many an instance of manic behaviour. It wasn't till I got older that the mania started to impact on my life.  Suicide attempts, erratic behaviour and the rest started to really take their toll.  Things really got out of control when I was traveling overseas... but that's another entry in itself.

Evetualy after yet another hospitalisation I was told I had bipolar. Better luck second time around hey.  The rials and tribulations of medication were about to start again.  So here I am now. I'm ok with having bipolar, I take the pills and do my best to not do my head in about it. Would be nice to know others as I sometimes think back at some of the things I've done and cringe plus a little giggle too as they are pretty funny some of them.  Meeting other people who can understand, relate and laugh would be a mighty prize indeed.