Werk, werk...

     What I'm finding is that Prichards' constant jiggering of the medications combined with my family's control of my mind and body was creating a lot of emotional conflict and both emotional and physical strain. It was a medication train on my mind. That's why I need to understand better how these medications have affected me. Past, present and future. Because medications have long term effects, sometimes even after stopping, and I was on so very many. I have to understand, if nothing else to keep the kids safe from this kind of Nazi like human manipulation. 

    I may have to go back to the hospital for a few days for them to observe again. They may have to tweak something. But this time it will be voluntary, and I'm going to specify in advance what's ok and not ok. Threats and lying are definitely not ok. And if I catch them lying or threatening again, I'll take that up the chain. I need honest help. I don't understand what Gullet was thinking. We barely spoke. I'm not going to work with her again. They can put me back with Arson or with the NP. Or find someone else. 

    I know Springbrook was concerned about the number and types of medications. I know CCBH never had a damn clue. But that's ok. We're moving on. I definitely need to reset after last time. Trust is hard. I know my counselor doesn't want me in these hospitals. But I have to be an independent adult and draw upon multiple perspectives and opinions to do what's best for me. I think a few days that is better planned and managed in the hospital will yield a hell of a lot more than the chaos that was March.

    Honestly, though, the last time I was at Springbrook, it was rather disorganized as well. Which is why I see no point in traveling that far for a few days of observation. I don't know exactly what I am capable of, but I'm told that W2 work is not a realistic option. Anyways, I've been having trouble with focus. The outpatient was saying brain fog. I'm not on ADHD meds anymore. Hopefully I can get a good opinion in inpatient on brain fog. Get this tweaked. 

    They offered the outpatient program, but I don't feel comfortable with driving back and forth to memorial. It freaks me out too much. It's very difficult to do that regularly. I'm worried I might have an accident. Dissociating while driving isn't that much different from driving while under the influence.

    It seems to be a bit of a war over what I put in my body. Medication or otherwise. The hospital prefers to feed me unhealthy crap I can't digest, shovel pills, and demonize everything else. I prefer natural and digestible healthy food, fewer pills, and the choice to take the vitamins and supplements without worrying about Nazis coming to jail me for taking vitamins. 

    Anyways, I'm tired of feeling like a prisoner in my body. I don't have patience anymore, and my body can't last forever this way. It would make sense if I was doing something more important. Like I was a secret agent or the President, then that kind of attention would make sense. Otherwise, it's a waste of resources. I'm not nearly so important to demand such tight control. 

    Because if this keeps up, they won't have to worry about where to bury me or which state to ship me to. I'll have to leave. Life isn't meant to be lived like that. The body and the mind can only sustain certain things. And it makes no sense to sustain this when I'm not doing anything important. If I can focus better, I can work more. That will be a start. 

    Maybe when I'm dead they'll stop demonizing me. Maybe not. Maybe I'll always be Prichard's demon. Maybe my brother will be my gaoler. In the prison of my mind. I hope not. I want to see something more positive in this world. I want to stop thinking in these terms. So maybe, if I try hard enough, life can be different. I sure hope so. My family has some truly bizarre ideas of who I am and what I need. It may or may not qualify as FDIA, but it is bizarre. QUICK, HERE'S MY SON, HE'S LOOKING AT ME FUNNY. FIX HIM!! And they insist on knowing EVERYTHING. It's truly frightening. It's no wonder I feel undercover at times.