Having spent far too much time and money visiting psychiatrists, psychologists, therapist, shamans, faith healers, and even more money on alcohol, drugs and mischief making over the last 20 years, I find it does help to scribble the odd line down here and there.
I started when I was in group for alchoholism about 18 months ago (on a different diary in a different place - which was even more personal:-) and have continued the habit infrequently ever after.
Usually my medical appoints are related to CRPS (formerly knows as RSDS), which you can read about at;
CRPS
Medical opinion is divided, which is why they can't agree on a name or forms of treatment. RSDS can be read about at;
RSDS
However, I've been in hospital twice in the last year to have tumours removed, the most recently being 10 days ago.
When I was 15 the council psychologist diagnosed me (incorrectly) as a paranoid schizophrenic, and I got access to large amounts of legal drugs to add to the alcohol and illegal drugs I was already consuming - the laughingly named 'lucky bags' bought at the school gates, which usually contained various types of speed.
My father died of cancer after a long illness, so I have no memories of him as being healthy, which inevitably affected my development. As we were a poor family to begin with, I began working, with a council work permit, when I was 12. I worked 6 days a week, first in a bookshop, then in a butchers (but never a candlestick makers), to contribute towards household bills.
Which made me an early developer, thanks to ready cash, and opened up an adult world of misadventure far too soon.
Left school at 15, left home at 16, moved to London, worked on building sites, graduated up the drug chain, watched my best friend die a junky, watched another go to jail for murdering his father, got married in a religious ceremony in Morocco aged 17, became an absentee father at 19, worked my way through a series of disasterous relationships, moved between London, Bristol, Manchester, Birmingham, eventually arriving back in Edinburgh (hopefully for good) after 15 years on the road.
Kicked drugs in the nineties, kicked alcohol in the noughties. Fingers are crossed.
It's not a sob story, as I have managed to find brief bursts of love and friendhip, and a few good people have lasted the pace.
And on a lighter note you can now check out my weekly wallpaper page - lots of lovely ladies for the lads:-)
A Brief History Of Time