Just another old moody musician that smokes weed

I'm BbqDad

Hi Bbqdad here.

I have bipolar disorder and PTSD.

For 40 years I lived untreated and could not find any relief for my symptoms because I was stubborn and didn’t believe my diagnosis.

All during this time, I had manic episodes come and go about every summer and depression in the winter. Seasonal trigger from light and darkness in Alaska. Everyone is depressed in the winter and everyone acts manic and doesn’t sleep in the summer with 24 hours of daylight.

I lost jobs because I couldn’t sit at a desk or stop engaging with other co-workers. I couldn’t stop flirting with one co-worker. She filed a complaint I found out at my firing.

It has caused me to spend thousands of dollars on cars, trailers, land, guitars, women and drugs. Mostly LSD and mushrooms. Although a girl got me to try heroin and meth once. I just couldn’t say no to her. I never got hooked on anything, as I only did it recreationally. And being Manic I was happy and high already, so I wasn’t really needing anything else to feel good. I just did stuff for fun.

I wanted and still want to be a rock star.

I was living my mantra, “sex, drugs, and rock n roll“. Maybe that is why all the bad behavior. (nope psychosis/delusions of grandeur, oh my!)

That’s mania for ya.

But year after year of unhealthy living and bad decisions the symptoms kept getting worst.

Three years ago I had severe manic episodes that lasted for 6 months. I lost my job, apartment and started living in my truck.

I had no money for gas. I stood on the side of the road with my guitar and an empty gas can. A lady in an office building came down from her penthouse suite and gave me $20 for gas. That got me going again.

I made money singing on the street. I gave rides to drug dealers and homeless people. But I was afraid for my life, struggled for food and gas every day.

I met a girl.

She was 25 years old with red hair and dimples. I asked her if she needed a ride. She said yeah. We had a thing, went to music festivals all summer together. She never left me all summer and lived in my truck with me. Her name was Kandy Crush.

Kandy could walk up to a gas pump and get the next car over to pay for our gas. She was that good at conning people. She taught me how to survive on the streets.

Then one night, I came back from street singing and couldn’t find the truck. I couldn’t find Kandy. She had the keys to turn the heater on and move the truck if a cop showed up. But now I couldn’t find her, and I was on time when I said I would be back.

I never saw her again.

I was alone on the streets. No truck. No money. I broke down and wept.

This was winter time with snow on the ground. 24 hours of darkness. I was majorly depressed. This losing the truck due to betrayal was a trigger.

I felt so bad that I decided I should just end it.

Then I remembered my kids. What would they feel like if they found out I OD’ed on something? That is what stopped me in my tracks.

I stepped into a business and told them I needed 911.

A police car showed up and took me to Providence Hospital in Anchorage, Alaska.

I was hospitalized and received treatment. Now, I am stable and want to help others that have the same journey.

Medication

I take meds to smooth out my moods. Mood stabilizers they are called. They make me feel flat. No happy. No sad. Well, some sadness but mainly just nothing. Flat.

I don’t feel like playing my guitar. Don’t want to cook or do really anything I like to do. I am grateful that I got another job, but I hate it. At least I can afford to pay rent. And the police found my truck and I got it back. A little damaged but drive able. So that is good. But I still felt flat.

I started smoking weed.

I took a tip from my old friend Willie Nelson from his book “One Hell of a ride” to start smoking weed. I thought why not it’s good enough for Willie, it’s good enough for me.

I was looking to boost my mood (get high) and spur my creativity, so I could write some more songs. I love to write. Music, poetry, blog posts, and now tweets.

So I was on one hand thinking it could make me manic, on the other it could give me relief.

The question was, “Could weed help symptoms of bipolar and PTSD?

Would I get relief? Could it hurt?

I read up a little on cannabis and bipolar and there are mixed reviews. Some very strong arguments that it could provoke mania and psychosis in bipolar people. I was a little concerned, but I decided to go ahead and try it.

Relief from bipolar and PTSD.

Now, I have found that it calms me down and helps me sleep at night which is a great benefit to get 8 hours of deep sleep.

In any case I am an olde moody musician that smokes tomato plants that don’t grow tomatoes. By BbqDad

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Published by BbqDad

pilot poet dad "I can open a pickle jar with my bare hands!"

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