Tag Archives: depression

Healing: Story of Pitsanuvej Hospital ~ Phitsanulok, Thailand

Rolling around Pitsanuvej Hospital, Phitsanulok, Thailand. I felt very cared for there, thanks to my “handlers”

What follows comes from my erstwhile “Healing Journal” – written/compiled on a foggy meandering journey to various countries (Pacifica, Phitsanulok, Cochin, Pokhara, Dikwella/Galle…) visiting all manner of hospitals, clinics and exploring various healing modalities and techniques.

Shared here more-or-less unedited for posterity (whatever that is) and to shed light to those struggling who might come across this riff. Please watch the “Healing Ramble, introduction” video for context on this series.

This entry, from Phitsanulok, Thailand, late 2016 was written in the weeks following – hence possible tense shifting. (Finally) organized and published May-June 2021 – i now live in Japan, am stable if far from “normal”.  No comments, sympathy requested or accepted. Carry on. 

Phitsanulok, Thailand, Oct. 2016~

[visited this hospital 4 times 2016-18, these notes are from the first 2 visits]

Intro: My various medical diagnoses (central sensitivity syndrome, fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue syndrome / M.E.) are generally diagnoses of elimination meaning, (in brief): finding out what it *isn’t*, and if every other possible thing can be eliminated, these are your diagnoses (given the symptoms etc. blah blah blah).

While there is extensive research for specific bio-markers for these diseases (thanks Open Medicine Foundation et al), comprehensive universal, diagnostic methods do not currently exist (and yeah i know there are loads of folks who have alternate theories, whatever, write your own spiel).

waiting for yet another bus in the rain in Vancouver – was all too much for me. holy anxiety and stress and confusion

While in my [ed note: former] home in Vancouver, Canada, these tests are certainly available, I found the process to be an extremely laborious – ergo: after waiting for specialist referral appointment and meeting, i would be sent for a couple of tests requiring a bus ride to the lab, waiting, dealing with all the commotion and pain (yes) of testing and then following up with the doctor who wouldn’t necessarily give me the “science” behind the results – just a “its fine, nothing to see here”.  The results were *evidently* available on a website, which I found impossible to utilize, and the experience overall was very draining.

As such, I compiled a list of all tests I wanted to undertake, and sought a hospital at which I could do all and “own the data.”

own your data (in a cute folder!)

My thinking is, “the sooner I can eliminate all other possibilities, the sooner I can get on with a proper healing regimen and be assured I was doing everything I could to feel better and heal my body etc.”

getting sensors on for an EEG to check my brain impacted from various injuries and concussions

Continue reading Healing: Story of Pitsanuvej Hospital ~ Phitsanulok, Thailand

“Thunderstorms in the Crash Years” – audio story about #MECFS & #Fibro

Dave working on healing at Peacock Ayurveda near Galle, Sri Lanka (with Dr.)
Dave working on healing at Peacock Ayurveda near Galle, Sri Lanka (with Dr.)
 

Amidst a thunderstorm at 4AM on a balcony in Chiang Mai, Dave discusses – with excessive frankness and emotion – various medical conundrums (Fibromyalgia and CFS-ME) and details the physical feelings of “crash mode” as well as the mental strain in dealing with self de-identification and inter-personal relationships, confusion in seeking help, and various alternative treatments.

audio story about #MECFS & #Fibro, just click play below

Always be kind for: Thunder in the Crash Years – Postcard #75 (75MB, 37:09, mp3, stereo)

No sympathy or advice requested.

(un-licensed but fairish-use) music by:

  • Tegan and Sara “Wake Up Exhausted” (demo)
  • Billy Bragg “Must I Paint you a Picture” (extended)
  • New Pornographers “The Crash Years” and “Adventures in Solitude” (studio)
 

 

Healing Ramble: #MECFS journey to Thailand, India, Nepal, Sri Lanka and onwards

Kind of nervous about this project but somehow it feels like a good (or important) idea so here we go… &/or just watch :).

I deal with #MECFS a complicated complex and chronic disease (see below). 

After diagnosis eight years ago (2013), I was kinda ground-up by then-local (Vancouver, Canada) medical system through challenging and ill-advised therapies, a litany of dangerous medications and laborious uneventful tests. Plus my entire life seemed to fall apart… ugh. As such I set out on a meandering journey seeking to figure out what was up with my body and brain and try to find a way forward. Continue reading Healing Ramble: #MECFS journey to Thailand, India, Nepal, Sri Lanka and onwards

Pondering the difference… (whilst feeling blue) #poem

Pondering the difference
Between letting go and giving up
When I need something to hold onto

Doing “self-care” but I get so wiped out
Waiting for the current to drive me away

Check the expectations of others – Where do I hide these feelings? Why was she so mean?

So tired of being tired each day

Made a list of happy times
Things I’d like in past times
Is this useful or a trap?

So made a list of things to do
When feeling “this”
But find I’m bored
And reminisce simply that I’m blue

Acknowledgment of art and pain
Respect and fellowship
Simply to be loved and adored
“Is that too much to ask?”

“I’ve never been lonely…” – Charles Bukowski

Read in Postcards from Gravelly Beach Disappearing for Invigoration – Postcard #78 podcast, and shared here to read-along (for educational purposes), note: original source unknown.

“I’ve never been lonely. I’ve been in a room — I’ve felt suicidal. I’ve been depressed. I’ve felt awful — awful beyond all — but I never felt that one other person could enter that room and cure what was bothering me…or that any number of people could enter that room. In other words, loneliness is something I’ve never been bothered with because I’ve always had this terrible itch for solitude. It’s being at a party, or at a stadium full of people cheering for something, that I might feel loneliness. I’ll quote Ibsen, “The strongest men are the most alone.” I’ve never thought, “Well, some beautiful blonde will come in here and give me a fuck-job, rub my balls, and I’ll feel good.” No, that won’t help. You know the typical crowd, “Wow, it’s Friday night, what are you going to do? Just sit there?” Well, yeah. Because there’s nothing out there. It’s stupidity. Stupid people mingling with stupid people. Let them stupidify themselves. I’ve never been bothered with the need to rush out into the night. I hid in bars, because I didn’t want to hide in factories. That’s all. Sorry for all the millions, but I’ve never been lonely. I like myself. I’m the best form of entertainment I have. Let’s drink more wine!”

Charles Bukowski

Healing Journey: Update, Summer 2018

Mexican Loneliness – Jack Kerouac

Read in Postcards from Gravelly Beach Disappearing for Invigoration – Postcard #78 podcast, and shared here to read-along (for educational purposes), note: original source unknown.

Mexican Loneliness

And I am an unhappy stranger
grooking in the streets of Mexico-
My friends have died on me, my
lovers disappeared, my whores banned,
my bed rocked and heaved by
earthquake – and no holy weed
to get high by candlelight
and dream – only fumes of buses,
dust storms, and maids peeking at me
thru a hole in the door
secretly drilled to watch
masturbators fuck pillows –
I am the Gargoyle
of Our Lady
dreaming in space
gray mist dreams —
My face is pointed towards Napoleon
—— I have no form ——
My address book is full of RIP’s
I have no value in the void,
at home without honor, –
My only friend is an old fag
without a typewriter
Who, if he’s my friend,
I’ll be buggered.
I have some mayonnaise left,
a whole unwanted bottle of oil,
peasants washing my sky light,
a nut clearing his throat
in the bathroom next to mine
a hundred times a day
sharing my common ceiling –
If I get drunk I get thirsty
– if I walk my foot breaks down
– if I smile my mask’s a farce
– if I cry I’m just a child –
– if I remember I’m a liar
– if I write the writing’s done –
– if I die the dying’s over –
– if I live the dying’s just begun –
– if I wait the waiting’s longer
– if I go the going’s gone
if I sleep the bliss is heavy
the bliss is heavy on my lids
– if I go to cheap movies
the bedbugs get me –
Expensive movies I can’t afford
– if I do nothing
nothing does

Jack Kerouac

Thunderstorms in the Crash Years – Postcard #75

 

Amidst a thunderstorm at 4AM on a balcony in Chiang Mai, Dave discusses – with excessive frankness and emotion – various medical conundrums (Fibromyalgia and CFS-ME) and details the physical feelings of “crash mode” as well as the mental strain in dealing with self de-identification and inter-personal relationships, confusion in seeking help, and various alternative treatments.

No sympathy or advice requested.

Always be kind for: Thunder in the Crash Years – Postcard #75 (75MB, 37:09, mp3, stereo)

Continue reading Thunderstorms in the Crash Years – Postcard #75

“Unrest” Documentary about CFS-ME

Dave gazes at Rodin's interpretation of the Gates of Hell from Dante's Inferno
Dave gazes at Rodin’s interpretation of the Gates of Hell from Dante’s Inferno

Finally up worked nerve/courage to watch @unrestfilm – Cried & laughed + noted im not alone. So much familiar: documenting, crashing, trying *everything*, endless Drs, so much confusion/suspicion/loss. 5 years along #cfsme & #fibro. Was invincible dynamite before.

Also, was funny in the movie to see her obsessing about mold and putting up a tent (I did this), making bone broth (which I did obsessively and one of my former charges now has a bone broth company), all the supplements (which I spent so much money on!), and all the “superfood“ smoothies/drinks/concoctions… Oh, and also all the Chinese herbal remedies cooked up in a big pot making the whole house smell crazy weird.

PS Unrest the film is on Netflix, iTunes and other places.

Auspicious day

9 years ago today, I presented “fuck stats make art” to a full house at SXSW, scored hash brownies and MDMA in Austin, drank whiskey backstage with the black angels. 11 years ago, signed up for Twitter. Also brother Bob’s birthday.

These days, a challenge to just get out of bed for a cup of tea… I’m really trying to “move on”, find “acceptance” and “close the book on old life” but it sure the fck ain’t easy with such wild & fulfilling actions in my past

#thanksforlistening #nosympathy #freehugs #trying

Beige unrelenting present…

 

Every day brings
An anniversary of something grand
So much promise and vigor
Graceful ambition, earnest yearning
“Don’t let the past affect the future”
Sound so easy
Until the beige unrelenting present
Brings another morning of pain

So many years now
Trying, climbing, sliding
Up the slides of a slippery well
Fighting, accepting, relenting
Leaves with only
Exhaustion from the inevitable slide

The shaggy dog comes to rest beside
Oddly purring softly, sedately
Sharpening his claws
Glancing up at me
Noted
I am left alone

I am left alone

Declaration: upon waking up

I wrote this declaration upon waking up…

This past summer, after literally losing my mind, I decided to step into the abyss… Bravely, intrepidly and without compromise.

Holed up at a mountain cabin while chaos swirled around my lives, I listened to the message from records from decades ago, I hot boxed my beloved bus were so many happy memories happened, I reunited with charming characters from my past and even better, met their children who are adults (moreso than me anyway), then with a solid head of mushrooms and MDMA, this plan came to me.

On a psychedelic carpet, i clicked enough buttons on the Internet, to purchase an abstract variety of plane tickets to send me a round like a manic boardgame in search of a new flavour of truth and reality.

Salt Lake to Las Vegas to Pacifica to Chaing Mai and now to this anonymous city where I’m practically the only foreigner in a city mourning the death of their beloved King, I’m finding comfort and solace and healing.

In scant days, I will leave again into uncharted territory, beyond what science and reason says is capable of this haggard body but I refuse to except anything but finding some sense of joy.

I can live with pain I accept, but I cannot accept living without my brain and without my heart and soul. I am born to give, exist to share, and I am empty without those.

Without a safety net, without and emergency escape route, without language skills, without the strength to punch my way out of a wet paper bag, I have built a tiny universe and painted the walls just the colour I chose.

Who will return to the West Coast on December 6? what will I look like? Who will I be? I am indifferent to all of these questions as the destination is simply a byproduct of the journey.

The journey is me and I am the journey. Brick by brick, I will gently apply the mortar to rebuild, to renew, to replenish and regenerate from the very mitochondrial cells outwards.

What ever the result, it will be me.