mental illness.

I struggle with various mental illnesses and I no longer know which ones I struggle with.  My Dad died when he was 36 years old and I was 10.  But prior to that I had various run ins with our superintendent at our housing complex where, in one instance, I threw a big boulder through her window shattering the glass as well as painting the laundromat in our housing complex with all sorts of different coloured paint that was supposed to be used for the eavestroughs.  she chased me and scolded me as she waved her “pitchfork” in her right hand.  I was terrified of her!!!  She was an evil person in my opinion but I am sure she had a reason for being evil with me.  In another confusing incident I stole a pack of Sesame Snaps from our local convenience store but, that time, didn’t get caught.  I was 8 years old and guilt ridden for two days.  this is not normal behaviour for a normal 8 year old.  so everything cannot be blamed on my Dad dying.  After my Dad died, which devastated me, my Nana died.  this was one month later.  she lived with us for many years so she was a big part of my family.  Unfortunately I do not remember her death nor her funeral.  A month later my Mom had an overdose of sleeping pills while in our bathroom at home.  the paramedics came to try and revive her and lucky for her and us she was revived.  at that point my Mother was taken away from us for a month so she could recover but what about us?  where did we go and why?  we ended up living with our family friends, the Dermastja’s.  We lived there for a month and many nights went by sleepless for me as I struggled with the events of the past two months.  My Mom came back to our family a month later but she was not the same.  she seemed distant and was struggling with the death of her husband.  her love.  school continued to go on for me but I felt very different than the rest of the kids.  I no longer had a Dad and that made me feel weird.  I overcompensated by being loud.  being brash.  I needed to be the best in everything but I also needed everyone to like me so I became a chameleon.  I was a jock one moment and then a stoner the next.  I was a great student one day and then a complete hellion the next.  unpredictable.  lost.  happy.  sad.  angry.  competitive.  CONFUSED.  HYPER.  SAD.
I continued to play sports and excelled in all but it all seemed to be a distraction.  a good distraction but a distraction nonetheless.  My teen years were filled with great times.  great friends.  great wins in sports.  great losses in sports.  extreme anxiety before games.  extreme anger during games.  extreme elation after some games.  extreme tears after other games.  everything extreme.
psychiatrists also became more prevalent.  I am not sure why but I can only assume that I was no longer a great kid with a big smile.  I was a troubled kid causing my Mom lots of problems and she did not know how to help me.  she had her own issues that she was dealing with.  life.  family.
I had lots of great times with friends and was rarely home and slowly began forgetting that my Dad had died a few years back.
High school started for me when I was 14 and that was a new experience.  lots of nerves and lots of fear.  I performed my best chameleon act and fit in with many groups once again.  I was briefly bullied but so were many other kids.  my grades were okay but my sporting skills excelled and I became more and more popular.  I loved school for many things but I also hated school for many things.  torn.  always torn.  I had some good teachers but I also had some bad teachers.  I began liking girls but was sooo afraid of rejection that I only masturbated to images of girls.  I began drinking later in life.  18 to be exact and once I began to drink I never stopped.  it was an instant relief from pain.  from anxiety.  an escape of epic proportions.  psychiatrists continued and I always hoped that they would make me feel better but they didn’t.  I began to have sex with girls but rarely had girlfriends.  commitment a terrible and non-existent word in my vocabulary.  I got molested by an older Greek man while hitchhiking after lining up all night to get Bruce Springsteen tickets and felt ashamed afterwards but could not tell anyone.  not even my Mom.  she was busy working three jobs so I rarely saw her.  I had many babysitters and many friends to hang out with but no Dad.  and a Mom whom I rarely saw.  I was extremely angry with myself after getting molested and fought any guy who even remotely touched me.  I also fucked as many girls as I possibly could and even counted all of my “conquers”.   I continued to see psychiatrists.  In the summers I would drink lots.  fuck lots.  get in fights lots.  jerk off lots.  but rarely felt love.  One night after a great party in Markham I ended up going to McDonald’s and drunkenly got into a verbal fight with the Manager.  he was belligerent.  so was I.  I ended up getting kicked out with my friends after telling him that I would beat on him if he laid hands on me.  the next day I was arrested for assault and public mischief.  I still saw psychiatrists and still was in pain.  never getting a solution to my problems.
I stayed in high school until I was 23 for some reason and then went to Durham College in Oshawa but only to play on their Varsity Soccer Team.  I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life so I continued to do what I had done for the last 5 years.  Play sports.  drink myself into oblivion.  and fuck girls.  I needed to prove my manhood as I still was affected by being molested.  also by losing my Dad.  My Nana.  Almost losing my Mom.  being taken away for a month.  and the arrest at McDonald’s.  Durham College was fun but I did not accomplish anything academically.  I met Cera and fell in love.  but we fell in love and out of love many times despite really loving each other.  commitment issues still getting in my way.  in the summers I began to mow lawns for drinking money and drinking money was very important. I still loved parties and still loved fucking but, while my friends were beginning to “grow up” and get real jobs I was continuing to flounder and continuing to cause grief.  More psychiatrists and still no answers.
after my one year at Durham I went to Seneca for another academically wasted year but another great year of sports.  I won the Canadian Goalkeeper of the year award but quit school soon after that. Back to mowing lawns, drinking beer, and fucking girls.  A DUI put a damper on some of my pleasurable activities but only temporarily.  After a few weeks all was forgotten and the boozing was back.  back with a vengeance as was the fucking.  still no career aspirations.  still living at home.  still causing my Mom grief but still charming somehow.
I went to a few more colleges but only to play Varsity soccer and, although very successful, I was still completely lost as to what I wanted to do with my life.  I ended up flying to England to half heartedly pursue a career as a professional soccer player.  My racist Grandad showed me around jolly old England and I lived with family members but forget their names, which is sad.  they have both passed on which is also sad.  life whizzing by.  I also stayed with The Royle’s and had great times with my cousin Mike.  But while there I missed my ex-girlfriend Cera and would call her many times racking up a huge phone bill for my family members without any regard to the consequences.  after a year in England I moved back home where I quickly got another DUI and was sent to jail.  Don Jail.  Toronto East.  Mimico.  Not just one.  Life was definitely taking a turn for the worse.  soon after I was forced to go to a rehab facility in North Bay for a month where I was with drug addicts and alcoholics.  I told everyone that I only drank on the weekends but they didn’t care.  “YOU ARE AN ALCOHOLIC.”
I disagreed for three weeks and then broke down one day and said, “YES…I AM.”  one week later I left with a one month medallion.
I came back to Toronto but then followed my ex-girlfriend, Cera, out to Alberta.  we were trying to reconcile and thought things were going well but, as always, they ended poorly and I moved back home.  I did attend Mount Royal College and succeeded in school but it didn’t bring me closer to a career.
After a year in Alberta I went back to audition for a top theatre school in London, England.  I “got in” but could not afford the tuition.  I attended George Brown Theatre School instead but left after 5 months due to restlessness.  I fucked many younger girls while there and got drunk and stoned and basically was a loose cannon.  a charming loose cannon.  but still a loose cannon.  after leaving George Brown I started my own theatre company and put on some great shows.  great reviews but no money.  I got an agent but never landed BIG roles other than Queer as Folk and a Porsche Commercial.  Later on I was in Suits and had a scene with Burt Reynold’s in a movie which was nerve racking but super cool.
psychiatrist’s continued as impulsive behaviour continued.  I got fired from many hotel jobs in the city.  One time I stole a Parking Officer’s ticket book at the front of The Royal York Hotel and got arrested once again.  “Was there something wrong with me?”  I went back to more psychiatrists and this time I was diagnosed with Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Intermittent Explosive Behaviour, Impulse Control Disorder, and Hypo Manic Disorder.  I was given medication and thought all would be good.  I continued to audition in extreme anxiousness.  I continued to work in shitty jobs.  I continued to have no money.  I continued my struggles with my Mom.  I continued to fuck girls.  and I continued to drink.  life not changing.  STUCK.
at the age of 36 years old I met Nicole, my wife, and we really hit it off.  she loved my passion for acting and my carefree lifestyle while I loved her beauty and youthful spunk.  she was 15 years younger than me. we had a very powerful and intense relationship at the beginning and it was filled with many ups but lots of struggles as well.  especially my lack of commitment.  always my lack of commitment.  I had another shit job but I was also landing some good acting gigs and things seemed to be moving forward.  I switched acting agents many times as I was never happy with my current one and never patient enough to have a plan.  after a few years of fantastic but tumultuous times Nicole became pregnant.  we were both terrified as we were not even close to being ready for a kid but we had one.
we had a beautiful daughter and we named her Rylee and things WERE GOING TO GET BETTER!!!
Rylee was a tough screaming kid at the beginning but somehow someway we managed to get through that time.  we had some help from family members and we drank a lot at night for some much needed relaxation.  we now both worked in the shoe biz as sales reps and were making some good money.  I continued to do plays and continued to get praise as I was a fiery and passionate performer.  I continued to struggle in auditions as my anxiety and lack of focus were really becoming an issue.  I tried more pills.  more booze.  more exercise.  NOTHING WORKED.  but we were making money so all seemed okay.
Over the past twelve years we have had our fare share of issues as most families do.  I have been too drunk on many occasions.  I have been irresponsible on many occasions.  I have lacked love on many occasssions.  I have blamed Nicole on many occasions.  I have not been around nor part of Rylee’s life on many occasions.  we have fought as a couple in front of Rylee on too many occasions.  we have lacked money.  lacked love.  lacked sex.  lacked fun.  lacked respect.  lacked focus.  lacked drive.  lacked interest.  and lacked confidence.  but Rylee has been our wonder child and our inspiration.  she is such a fantastic kid who has been threw so much both at school, in sports, and at home but she continues to shine and continues to grow.  a miracle kid.
And now while Nicole has had a major resurgence in life and is in school to get her real estate licence
I continue to struggle in auditions and was diagnosed with ADHD two years ago.  two years later still no change.  still no hope.  one more anxiety ridden audition and I am completely depressed and lost.
I am a fantastic actor who cannot audition.  period.  frustrated.  frustrated.  frustrated.  completely at a crossroads in my life at the age of fifty and it does not feel good.
I have been diagnosed over the years with Narcissistic Personality Disorder, ADHD, Hypomanic Disorder, Intermittent Explosive Behaviour, Impulse Control Issues, and Anxiety Disorder.  But with all of these I feel no compassion from others.  People offer up compassion for the depressed but my mental issues don’t seem to matter.  why I do not know but my mind is frustrating!!!  No hope.  I am a functioning basket case with an extremely charming personality that is getting me nowhere but depressed and I am LOST.
fucking lost.
fucking scared.
fucking frustrated.
fucking sad.
adhd.