Puppies, Rainbows and Unicorns

I mentioned in my first post Introduction: To Blog or not to Blog that this blog will not just be about bipolar but may also contain puppies, rainbows and unicorns. Well, I am a man of my word and it is your lucky day because I recently found myself with an excuse to talk about all three.

I was at a 21st recently and the theme was rainbows, unicorns and the yellow brick road. Having arrived fashionably late, as is normal for me if I even show up at all. I looked around at all the guests in their ridiculous apparel and came to the sudden realisation that I was one of the few people I actually knew at the party. There I was in an unfamiliar place, wearing amazingly rainbow clothes, with strange unicorn looking people prancing all around me, wondering who the hell I was going to talk to.

Fortunately, I was a bit right of the center that night and so it wasn't long before I was pretending to be interested in learning people's names and conversing with strangers about the weather and that local sporting team. I am not naturally adept in social situations, it requires a certain amount of effort on my part that can be particularly hard to summon, especially when I am a bit down. By the time I was on my fourth beer, the urge to fight a unicorn out of boredom had subsided, I drank some beer from my shoe (apparently it is my new party trick) and discussed with a random stranger the benefits of various types of garden fertiliser. At some point in the night a 50 litre keg of ginger beer in a wheelie bin appeared and my memory of events afterwards whilst not entirely gone become somewhat blurred.

Earlier on, I met the birthday girl's new puppy who I must say is absolutely gorgeous.  Having become a bit of a hippy in recent years, I don't care too much for possessions. At my 21st I requested that people donate money to Sane Australia rather than buy me some shiny thing I would not use or a token bottle of booze which technically I am not supposed to drink. I told my rentals they could either do the same or get me a puppy. Before you think it, yes that is emotional black mail and I am a terrible human being.

Short story long, I got my puppy! Her name is Dip and she is a 10 month old (almost all growed up) ACD/Mastiff and In the 6 months I have known her she has rapidly super glued her position as my best friend. Whilst Dip was not around for the shit storm that has been my life for the past 5 years, I know if she were, it would of been made all the more bearable.

Animals have this incredible intuition which puts my fairly sharp human one to shame. I know when I'm starting to get a little depressed because the cat will start avoiding me, she always knows before I do. Dip who is still a youngen can already tell when I am upset. At these times, rather than exhibiting her usual behaviour of jumping all over me and trying to get me to play tug-of-war, she will come and sit quietly by my side in an uncharacteristic display of self-control.

Being responsible for another living thing while sometimes presenting a challenge for someone like me, is by no means a chore. I will admit, sometimes Dip and I skip breakfast and a lot of the time we skip our walk but I know she understands that I am doing the best I can with the cards I have been dealt.

I wish that the world was fill filled with rainbows, unicorns, puppies and that we could all end up living happily ever after in the magical place George Orwell refers to as sugar candy mountain. Sadly, idealism never quite matches up with reality. We have to rely on the little things like spending time with man's best friend to give us that little extra unquantifiable something that helps to make life worth living.

Whether it be a a unicorn, an old person, elephant, fly or a puppy I am of the firm belief that everyone should have a pet. Call it an investment in your sanity because at some point in life it is nice to have the kind of unconditional love that only animals can provide.

Now, I would love to tell you more about puppies, rainbows and unicorns hell I could probably write a novel. Today however is one of the few beautiful days we have had all summer in this miserable place and I intend on making the most of what is left of it. If you have not been paying attention while reading this, the video below pretty much sums up this post in a bean pod.

Stay right of the center and keep on doing what you do. If you encounter a unicorn in your travels, be sure to talk to it about the weather and that local sporting team because unicorns have feelings too.

Stay Awesome.

Drinking beer from a shoe

Hello lovelies. To begin where I recently ended a night. As the title of this post suggests I was kicked out of a pub for drinking beer out of a shoe. I can confirm to you that it is just as awesome as it sounds. I learnt a few things from this adventure. Firstly, the beer quality is not diminished if you drink it fast enough however, the smell is a little bit off putting. Number two the staff of the local establishments in my pseudo home town of Canberra do not have a sense of humour about such things (this is a generalisation from only a small sample group, further research is required). Number three and perhaps most important is that doing stupid things is not only fun but also educational.

Granted, I probably knew that last lesson already but a refresher course every once in a while doesn't hurt. I have done a lot of stupid shit in my lifetime. From passing out in all sorts of weird and unusual places, stealing things that are completely useless to me (if you lost a few pot plants from your front garden a few years ago that was probably me) and driving far too fast on dirt roads in a front wheel drive car. Just to name a few, without incriminating myself too much but all of these things add up to the collective pool of wisdom contained in my brain.

I often say to people when trying to describe a mania that in my case it is just like passing out. Believe me when I tell you that I have had a lot of experience at both. You kill enough brain cells so that all you can remember are flashes of the night before and you piece the rest together through eye whiteness accounts and whatever evidence you have collected along the way. With my manias this feeling of memory loss covers weeks at a time. As an example I vaguely remember during one mania saying '5-5-5-5-5'. Apparently, it is all I said for three days. Every question I was asked even simple ones like: 'what is your name?' I would reply: '5-5-5-5-5'. I remember vividly staring at some graffiti that said 'the end is nigh' for 6 hours but if you asked me why I did so, I couldn't tell you if I wanted to.

I find these stories about mania hilarious, as should you. A sense of humour about such things is vital to my well being. It is like that one stoner you know and all the ridiculous things he or she says when high; generally about melting in to couches and slaying dragons with marshmallows. I tend to collect these stories, not only from myself but from others as well and perhaps you will hear some more further down the line.

For now though after that short detour, back to doing stupid shit. One of my favourite quotes at the moment comes from the song 'Satelite' by one of my favourite bands, Rise Against:

"You can't feel the heat until you hold your hand over the flame
 You have to cross the line just to remember where it lays

 You won't know your worth now, son, until you take a hit

And you won't find the beat until you lose yourself in it" 

It is by doing stupid things that we work out where our limits are. From my father I have developed two guiding principles to any sort of moment like this in my life. Number one, was it fun? For what is life if not something to be enjoyed. Number two, did you learn something from it? Because if we don't learn from our experiences then what is the point of existing. On drinking beer from a shoe, obviously it was fun and yes, in a strange way I am smarter for doing it.

I have learnt far too often in my 21 years that life is fragile, opportunities only present themselves once and if you get kicked out of a pub you probably deserved it. It is a cliche but there's no point being in the moment if you're not going to live in it. I'll think about the past when I'm old and as to the future well, that's just a little bit too boring for me. I figure as long as I have a roof over my head, some half decent scotch and a bit of food to eat then I am doing okay.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some beer to drink and a variety of shoes to drink it from. I will let you know the best combination if you want to try it for yourself. The sandal should be interesting.

Stay Awesome.

Journalism

I was going to be a journalist once. It was a strange time involving travelling on buses, carrying around a hipster man bag and forcing myself to read the right-wing propaganda of the Australian on a daily basis. In the end I decided it wasn't for me after being told by my tutor that my language was too 'flowery' and winding up in a depressive episode for over a month (not because of that comment mind you).

Apparently hiding away from the world in a dark room for weeks at a time is not conducive to achieving things. It's not that big of a revelation but those of you who have experienced depression will know just how paralysing it can be. The longer you stay down there, the harder it becomes to crawl back out. You have a hundred things you should have already done and as each day goes by another five get added to that list.

Before developing a healthy addiction to nicotine, I once did not go outside my house for over three weeks. I probably would not have left my suitably darkened room had I possessed a large bucket and a few packets of chips. It was then that an educator whom I have the greatest respect for practically dragged me out of bed, made me stand on the front porch and have a conversation with him. Sure, I went back to bed straight after but I got that little hit of vitamin d, my first human interaction in god knows how long and the knowledge that despite the crawl ahead of me being difficult, it wasn't impossible.

I like to pretend that I have learnt my lesson when it comes to the depression side of bipolar. I guarantee you though, when I inevitably go to that place again, snapping myself out of it will be just as difficult.

Sometimes I wish we had switches to control our mood. Imagine you wake up and decide you want to write a song. Easy. flick the switch to melancholy crack a bottle of whiskey and hey presto youve got a number one. Alternatively you could be going to a party and want that little extra spark to get through the night, no problem just try the social butterfly setting. If you decide you want to create a religion that involves everyone in the world worshipping you why not flick over to mania and do a bit of preaching.

But alas, I digress. On the topic of Journalism. I was down at the pub the other night and there was a copy of the Telegraph on the table where drinks are supposed to go. The article facing up had such a catchy headline that I just had to read it aloud. Old mate that I was with who honestly is a little bit special told me I just had to include it in my blog. Judge for yourselves but I think him and the article have being special in common.

Tatts more like it: Josh Dugan yesterday flashed off his chiselled frame - and a few new tattoos - as he trained with his NRL All Stars teammates in sticky conditions at Coogee Oval. 

 And while Dugan may have broken down with an ankle injury midway through last year, he is ready to hit the ground running and reclaim his Blues No.1 jumper.

"That's the plan, but you have to remain fit and be playing games to get picked in the rep sides," Dugan told The Daily Telegraph.

"My parents told me the other day that Ricky said in the paper if I can get back to playing good footy, I'm a very good chance of getting back in the NSW team."

 I was going to be a journalist once. It was a magical time involving travelling on ponies, hanging out with fairies and reading the wisdom that coats every page of the Australian. However I then read an article in the Telegraph almost as good as the one above. I gave up knowing that I would never in my lifetime produce a piece of journalism even close to it's quality and that it would be a waste of my time trying.

Tatts all for now,
Stay Awesome.