It was always too scary to think about. When I was 15. Alone. Pacing around my room. Overthinking every interaction that’s happened to you that day. They all must hate you. Your mum doesn’t even like you but she has to tolerate you. Dad too. It was all so lonely and so very low for long spells and then it would all get so fuckin fast. Heart racing, bullet just about to land on yer jaw type of adrenelaine.
Everything’s a problem that needs fixed NOW. Everything needs to be in order. Organised. Yet somehow everything constantly stays messy because you move about so much and pick up so many things just to put them down somewhere different so the mess never stops. Lose a key? You are the worst person in the world for losing this key and if you don’t find it you’ll get another row for being irresponsible. Forgetful but so productive when its channelled right. Destructive as fuck when its not.
The point in that wee bit of speil I guess is just to come to terms with the fact that I’ve been aware of bipolar disorder since I was that age, had a decent grasp on what it was and truth be told I’ve always known. Doctors have asked countless times if I was ever considering suicide and I always said no. I never wanted to admit to the manic spells so I accepted depression and tackled that when it’s never really been that.
Things that have happened during this horrific time have profoundly affected my life. The world is crumbling and black people still can’t feel safe to walk the streets without having some fuckin psychopath choke them to death. I lost my way and it came back. First the depression. Sleeping in till 4pm and being glad for it because it meant the day ahead would be over sooner. Then came the mania
I realise no being able to sleep isn’t a bipolar diagnosis by any stretch but sleeping 5 hours in 4 nights and still being able to sit here and write something semi cohesive isn’t normal. Writing over 300,000 words worth of blogs in a year isn’t normal. The manic stuff can be productive but its only because channelling it into a passion chases the dark thoughts away. I’d rather have 100,000 thoughts about wrestling running through my head at the one time than a constant stream of negative feedback I never fuckin asked for. When your thought process is so fast you can’t control it, its a very scary thing for that thought process to be telling you that you are useless in every way. A stain on society. Scum. Everyone would be better off rid of you anyway you clown. Go jump in front of a bus and save everyone a lot of hassle.
But I know its not like that. I know that a small pocket of people I cherish would be devastated by losing me. I’m picking this article up after a 14 hour sleep and completely re-organising my room as soon as I woke from that sleep because that’s what bi-polar disorder is. Its everything and nothing at the same time but the feeling of it all is so much more extreme.
That’s why I feel even my closest pals are sick of me because there’s constant intrusive voices telling me that every single thing I’ve done in my relationship with these people is wrong and they hate me for it but I now know thats not true and I know theres medication out there to treat this condition that I am not self diagnosing. This is a condition I know I have and having the blessing of having a partner who has studied this shit for over 5 years and got a masters in distinction done me the kindness of monitoring me when my behaviour changed and as soon as I said I felt I may be bi-polar she just nodded and told me she feels I show a lot of the signs. I know I do. I know I have it. I am at peace.
If you are a person sitting there feeling any of this hits home then do whatever it takes to keep yourself there. Wrestlers too. Guys I know the community was ripped apart by Adrian’s death but it will not be in vain. We will educate people in the industry that feeling low is ok and there’s support from peers and professionals that can keep your outcome being the same as one of the most talented wrestlers this country or any country has ever seen. Its just so endlessly sad that he was the only one who couldn’t see it. I have an interview with Jackie Polo recorded that I jus’t haven’t been able to write up yet because it is so packed with that feud and every single bit of what Adrian brought to this scene. So guys, if you’re reading this keep the fuckin chin up and remembering you’ll be out there doing your thing soon
I’m gonnae make a career of writing about this industry and knowing that settles me so much. This is my job.
I’m gonnae finish this off just by saying im here if you need me. Even if I dont know ye fae Adam. I’ve got my people. I’ve got my partner for life who has basically nursed me through a near death experience all while struggling herself. Wonderful parents. Four of the best pals a guy could ask for (and many more but four bestos) including my brother from another mother who’s just experienced the highest high life can bring, my Sellik bretheren and fellow Wolfe Tones fan who loves gettin me drunk, and my special big guy who shares my love of Chris Jericho and a handsome lookin dude. Then there’s the lassie one who I recently told that I really all women just beautiful and if i was a single man I’d totally winch anyone who identifies as a woman as long as they fancy me and I fancy them. That’s true pal shit. Then there’s the mother and father who have worried about me endlessly and seen me fall apart but have been right there to pick me back up again. I will be fine. I will fight this. And to Drew, just…..thank you.