I have always been a moody guy, with wild swings of extreme optimism, soon followed by dismaying lows of darkest self-esteem. People who know me got used to this odd side of my character, yet it also caused several arguing and fights in the past.
As a teen, I was the geek of the group, embracing everything unpopular; from Heavy Metal to Goth, from Romantic Literature to slasher movies. Nonetheless this never made a nerd out of me; I was never isolated by the most popular, but neither was part of them.
I lied in the middle, in that gray spot situated between the bright light of Admiration and the darkness of Ostracism. Never bullied (I was particularly brawny for my age), I was a kind guy, one of those everyone gets along, but no one would admit being friend to.
Despite of my inner darkness, I always appeared as a cheerful person, ready to help anyone in need, or laughing at those communal jokes only bad boys exchange.
Things did not change for the better with the coming-of-age, when I found myself confronting the harsh and selective world of employment. Too short, too dark. Too bright, too much scary. And so on. So, I learned to attune at other’s expectances, showing them only what they liked to see.
On-the-job I was always correct, obedient, and professional … even talkative and funny.
But outside, in my inner world, I was (and still am) an introverted and dreary individual, dreaming about Death, morbid things, and most of all … solitude.
Do not get me wrong, I abhor true isolation, they socio-psychological one, I mean.
Nevertheless, I longed for physical solitude, often discovering myself looking for secluded places in which my weirdo mind could revel in complete silence.
Lately, things took a serious turn.
After moving to
I experienced a series of small personal victories, framed by a multitude of
exacerbating problems. The culture shock may be one thing, but spending your
time wishing for Death to ease your sufferings is another. Thailand
So, after I involuntarily caused a woman to cry in a chat because of my extreme moodiness (I again apologize with you, my Brit reader), causing the same to my wife, and generally making a fool of myself on my Facebook wall, I decided to consult a doctor.
I went to a private clinic in the area and explained all my symptoms to a Dr. Pamboon (hope you’re reading this, idiot!). After my long rants about feeling depressed and reacting wildly at innocent jokes or teases, he calmly stated I was a sufferer of Bipolar Disease.
I was shocked.
My wife was shocked.
He had me pass some stupid tests and examinations, confirming his theory.
I paid the extremely high bill (for
then got away in the darkest of moods. Thailand
Now I had motives.
I spent a sleepless night, trying to figure how I had developed that mental illness and causing further arguments with my already distressed spouse.
The next day we decided to check for another clinic for a second opinion.
And guess what?
This gal, Dr. Stewart of
cleared me of all doubts. Nopparat
I do not have Bipolar Disease, but I’m a simple sufferer of Chronic Depression. She also stated that Dr. Pamboon was a renowned charlatan whose only goal was to spill as much money he could from distressed foreigners. She suggested me to try a simple cure, with much tranquillity (and that’s the hardest part here in chaotic Ao Nang), antidepressant drug therapy, along with some type of talk therapy. Now, this surely is something I must try to fight, yet it’s not as bad as having Bipolar Disease. Symptoms are very similar, but chronic depression does not necessarily leads you down the path of schizophrenia.
So, now when you see I’m in a bad mood, please forgive me and remember I’m still that jolly dude you used to know.
Anyway, I feel relieved, but still have to pay a visit to dear Dr. Pamboon.
Besides, I have to get the final results of his tests by the end of the week …
A special thank goes to Author Heaven Liegh Eldeen and Simona Rossetti which supported me in one of my direst moments.