Back in the day, many years ago, I put my illness down rather jokingly as my having an Evil Twin. My evil Twin would be the outlandish and vibrant person that the real me wasn’t. My Evil Twin would be the one stood up half drunk singing Meat Loaf songs on the Karaoke at 1am in a crowded bar (I have no singing voice to speak of…but he got a few free beers out of it). My Evil Twin was the one that worked in the theatre for days in a row with only a few hours sleep and a pack of Pro-Plus to keep him going. He in effect burnt me out and when I used to crash from the Evil Twin highs it was awful. I would rage against everything. I would become a screaming tantrum filled child. If I didn’t get my way, god help whoever was in the way of me.
Looking back on those years I do regret my Evil Twins existence. I regret the hurt I laid onto others around me. The releatinships that crumbled as my sanity was flaking away. If I could go back and change things, or even speak to my younger self I would make sure that I told myself that I needed help and taking a flame thrower to the candle was not the best way to go. It would have been more preferable to burn the candle at both ends and have it peter out gradually but blazing the whole bloody thing at once was no way to go.
It’s been close to 20 years since it all kicked off and during that time I have probably had two maybe three years combined of good mental health. I can say this now looking back at all the stuff I got up to and all the history is there to be seen. The mistakes I made and the risks I took. The bad feelings that were left due to a manic high that got me rushing from one project to the next, to being so full of myself that I thought I was the only one who mattered. There are people I should apologise to and repay, but they are no longer available or around for me to do that. People who put up withmy shit and never said a word. If they had any insight into what was going on the never showed it. Maybe in hindsight if they had I wouldn’t be here writing this now.
There were times of depression during the manic times. When work stopped for the summer or the build up to Christmas where i would have to scrape together bus fare to get to my Family. I begged lifts of some people to get me where i needed to go and they all took care of me. Did I repay them enough?
My life is one big jumble and it would take a long time to unravel it and set it straight, but there are those of us who have fallen either literally or figuratively that will never get there dues owed them. The best I can say to them is Thank You and Sorry I didn’t see the problem before it was too late.
I used to quote the Love/Hate song Evil twin by saying.
“It wasn’t me… it was my evil twin”
Now I realise, there just isn’t any separating the two… me myself and I.
Until Next Time…