Staff Meeting

    You know... I just realized I invited the wolves into the hen house. Well, I'll be interested to see what these hospitals think of thier handiwork. Y'all created me. You and Prichards. What do you think? I hear Shapiro was elected president of Riggs. I remember him. The Psychiatrist, started with an M? 

    I wonder if McLean still has clozaril man. He was on TV. Atlanta said no. Someone wasn't listening very well. Multistate clusterfuck. OK. Maybe clusterfuck is a strong word. Yeah? Yall remember discharging me that one time? I was in the er, same day? Fantastic work, fellas. I know Beth Israel Deaconess really appreciated bringing me out of that coma. Fucking clozaril. Shit'll kill you.

Lookit

    Until I get this sorted out, there's not much I CAN do. I hope to contribute more meaningfully when my head is straight. I can barely find anything because my mind goes different directions. I'M COMING BACK! My providers and I got frustrated. I like my home. I'd like to keep it. I need someone in my life. I'm getting too old for this. That said, I'd like to thank my team and my sister's family. Hopefully we can stay out of the blame game. The threats game. Beyond ridiculous to feel the need to pull in FBI and public health. I can be a really cool guy. Just too many directions. I'm consolidating. Time to make up for, black widows to flirt with.

The Whatever

     I've been very frustrated with the whatever. Some people call it memory problems. Some called it PTSD. Some called it DID. Some insist on Bipolar. Going in too many directions under the influence of too many medications and professionals was definitely part of the problem.

Oh crap...

    Oh crap... he's becoming aware... oh crap... he's not with the program. QUICK, MEDICATE! Shit, that didn't work! Moralize! Demonize! Activate the checkers! Go down the center list! Find another doctor! No that one quit... let's get creative... *sigh*

    Twisted humor aside, I need to continue to work on anger and increasing my functioning. Which means reconnecting memory and processing. So, everyone can expect to see very little of me for quite some time. 

Not sides...

    Then she says there's not sides... I got a half dozen hospitals and several dozen professionals in my head and she says there's not sides... $*%*

Work in Progress...

    I'd like to remind everyone that this site is a work in progress. I have a lot of work to do on clarifying and crystalizing the message. I have some content that needs to be properly cited. This takes time. I have a house to clean and various financial and other responsibilities. Sometimes I feel like all this education and hospital time should be worth more than a freaking website but hey you know we don't pick our poisons every time. 

Lost and Rigged

     I remember Lost and Rigged very fondly. I particularly liked the nurse manager and my psychologist. I've been all over the East Coast. It was expensive. But well done.

Invitations

    I invited staff and former staff of the following institutions to contact me, anonymously or otherwise, to share some feedback on this website, keeping in mind that this is an effort to improve health outcomes in Greenville County. You will not be named or referenced. 

    I welcome any information or input you may have on improving outcomes in Greenville County. Please email ashesndust@outlook.com.

Austen Riggs Center

McLean Hospital

MIP

Springbrook

SC Public Health

Gateway House

MUSC

    I would like to know what you think. I'm trying to slow down the content creation, sort better, improve quality, and remove some copyrighted material.

Judgement

 

   The people that I have known me and myself are biased in our opinions. So part of the purpose of this website is to promote writing, part is to promote mental health awareness and to encourage and entertain. The final purpose is to let the public be my judge and jury. 

    Between myself, my families, and Greenville Psychiatropy... Where lays the blame? Or is it just a bunch of pills, pain, and pointed fingers? Where is the danger? Was I so dangerous? So crazy? Some things are dangerous. Pills are one of them. They hate me for calling this out. But I think it's in the public interest. 2 comas. Multiple states. Lots of pills. Lots of pain. Lots of Bullshit. Where are the answers for this medicalization? They hate me for calling it out. They demonize me for doing so. So do something with this knowledge. In your own lives. 

Faith

 

    I do believe in God. I do believe in purity and virtue. I have been around some influences. And some people don't listen. So now I have to be a better example and not just a warning story. Before it's too late. But where does trust grow? The Trinity is different sides of the same God... Interestingly, DID has sides...

Change, Growth, Healing, Fixit

    Different mentalities exist in the world. Maybe I owe certain people certain things. But my life has been rather tortured and drugged. Once I'm dead hopefully people will whisper my truth far and wide. They'll DE medicate and repent their medical perfectionism. Because some people will never change. They need the money, they want the money. They don't know how to grow. 

    And then they suck me back in and I'm like them again and that's how they keep me there. Strength can look strange. Because it doesn't involve fixits or whateverisms. It does not involve looking the other way or saying it's not me. It does not involve staying silent. And that is what this website is for. To speak the truth I cannot speak in the company that I keep: Drugs and silence are dangerous in combination, people can be too. 

    So I'm warning everyone I can via this website: Certain people in South Carolina are dangerous. I've known quite a few. Use your own good judgment and caution. That is what I am able to do for now. Stay away from the silence and the drug trains. Stay away from medicalized perfection and false lives. I'll try to do the same. 

Medicine

 

There's a Doctor just behind me
Counting every breath I take
Announcing every fault that I've known
Making up his numerous tests
Silence now the path "must he?"
inventing anew his prodigal son.
Never will he see his errors

Not until it's won and done.
Why can't we not be over?
I just want to flee this Supernova
Why can't we end this bullshit
I just want to not pretend it
I am just a stubborn misfit
I am just a problem child
I will only immolate you
Trust the Doc and drug away
I will find a Center for you
I will commit and lock away
I will work to demonize you
Just enough to shut you up
Love me. Love me. Love me.
Psychiatrist, won't you freaking whisper
Something that makes a little sense?
Trust him. Trust him. Trust him.
They want, what they want.

What she wanted

I believe that what she wanted was to remove me from this place. Plant me somewhere new as someone new. But I have work to do. Some clean up. And no resources to move. Until they tell me the evidence is not there, that there are no other victims, and with no resources to make a change, both my morals and materials dictate that I stay here. I barely know what I would do somewhere else on my own. This is all I have known.

Last names

are who we were, not necessarily who we are. Life requires building onwards with the required window dressing built in to allow the old to fade and the new to rise.

Shades of Grey

    You know the American spelling is "gray" and the English spelling is "grey" or vice versa and I can never remember which is which. 

    Anyways, life is full of shades of gray. That's hard to navigate. I get rather obsessed with the rights and wrongs and the justice, especially as related to medicalization, toxic masculinity, and bad psychiatry. But that doesn't wipe out or compensate for failure. And I have to be surgical, clean, and gentle in my approach to righteousness, even as I try to slow down and detoxify my life. But it has to be a better world for the kids. Better than it was for me. I just struggle to understand. Some people were riding fast and loose. They get high on the excitement. On the power. That's what worries me. Then they want to shut me up, because my warnings become inconvenient. But I'm trying to help the good eggs. The people that stay in their lanes. I know they exist. I hope there comes a day when I see my people again. Right now, it's just not the same. 

    I'm not sure how it ends or how I break free. It takes time. But I'm told some things are permanent. I don't know how much.

The Right Thing

    Just because I care about people doesn't mean I'm on their side. It doesn't mean I support what they do. But advocacy is important. And I'm trying to help people. Even if I have to drag them kicking and screaming. If nothing else, I can warn people about the dangers of Greenville County. So they can be safer in their own lives. 

Jumping up and down trying to warn people who don't listen...

 

Wheeeeeeee!!!!!

Munchhousen's Byproxy

    I know they watch the website. I know they have people in the community that know me and them, and that report back on my activity. And so I am a prisoner that walks around. I wonder how many people live like this? Then it's back to paranoid, crazy, addict, psychotic, whatever reason they can find other then the truth: some people are bad in combination, and drugs aren't kosher. Legalized or not. Especially on minors. But BEHOLD! TOMORROW IS A NEW CENTER!

I'm not sure exactly how much public health is benefitting from this...

 

Pearl Jam

 

They're going to go with "crazy" or "addict" because it suits their purposes. It keeps the money and drugs flowing. And the FBI will sit there and watch. Just like everyone else.

Trouble Sleeping

 

Stuck

    I got a little stuck trying to please people. Now I'm caught in-between. Trying to please people who will never be happy. At times, I feel like I missed the bus on DID. I was supposed to change. Being me wasn't working. Instead, I stayed me. Maybe that's why people are bitter. They expected a metamorphosis. I felt like I owed some people. Like I couldn't leave them. I thought the middle was where I belonged. Now I'm stuck there. 

    When I got off Clozaril, I thought that I could change. Some people wanted to stop me from doing so. They're addicted to the mirage, to the perfect me they want to believe I am. And I'm letting them do it. It really isn't funny. Yet people find it amusing. Or infuriating. Depending. 

    They want me to be the crazy one, the addict. I'm addicted to trying to please the same people. I'm crazy enough to stick around Greenville. I cannot go back to the medication table. Yet the table will eternally call for me. I have to ignore its call. People have tried to help, but I have to stay the same. Because I'm the name. The one on the building. It makes no sense. 

    God is watching us. So what will I do? I am caught in-between. I am split. Split between my families. Duty, loyalty, Nazi lockstep vs the reality of human limitation.