Trust Concepts

I've been thinking about trust a lot lately. I've got my categories.

Community

I can see and hear you. You are animate... living and breathing.

Person

    I've met you. I may know your name. You're not an animal. I don't treat you like one.

Acquaintance

    I've met you. We've interacted on multiple occasions. I know your name. I may not always remember it. Favors are limited based on need and give and take.

Friend

    I interact with you regularly or repeatedly over a long period of time. I know your name. I almost always remember it. Favors are limited based more on need then give and take.

Relative

    You have a biological or contractual connection to me or someone with that connection.

Family

    You live with me. You may be a cat, dog, or other domestic animal.

Professional/Client

    I interact with you only when you are under a contract to do so or are being paid to do so and vice versa. If you/I are not being paid, then you/I are on vacation.

Anchor

    Whether you are present or not, I tend to remember you, and I will aid or protect you within my abilities and within the letter of the law. But I am human. I can only do so much. You also fall another category.

If I don't say something, it is not appropriate or necessary for me to comment or I'm not sure about the answer. If I ask a question you don't want/need to answer, then don't answer or decline to answer. 

Boundary statements

I need you to XYZ (violation)

You are XYZ (violation)

I know your name and don't use it or use other names instead (violation)

You need to XYZ with XYZ person or in XYZ situation (violation)

I talk about you when you're not around (violation)

I use or move your things without asking or not under a contract of some sort (violation)

I touch, look at you, think about you, talk about you, or listen to what you're saying without permission that is implied or direct (violation)

He/she is... (violation)

Can I...? (No "you"... ok)

Would you (No "I"s... ok)

I contact you without permission or legitimate authority within the law. (violation)

Most obviously, I treat you differently based on a category related to personal characteristics. Violation.

My personal space is part of my person. That includes my living area. Don't violate it.

If you need something and it is implied, don't expect to get it. If you need something, and ask by using a lot of implied feelings, don't expect to get it. If you are being appropriate about the size of the request and the relationship and simply ask for what you want from me without referencing someone or being too personal, you just might get it.

From time to time, I need to remind myself of these things. If a relationship becomes too poisoned, I take a vacation or a permanent break. If you receive a warning (some people will call them threats even if they are not specific) or I stop responding or block your communications, you are on an involuntary vacation from all categories and interaction. The "Don't contact me again unless I contact you" is implied. DSS, FBI's ICD, SCDHEC, BBB and the local police are a click or phone call away. ICD and BBB are the only ones that tend to hear from me. I prefer not to put people behind locked doors.

If you say, "quit it", "give it up", "let it go" or something nonspecific, you are wasting your breath and energy. I'll have no idea what you are talking about, and you will gain nothing. Generally, it's not your business anyways. Develop some common sense.

Smoke Signals

Now and then I think of when we were together

Like when you said you felt so happy you could die

Told myself that you were right for me

But felt so lonely in your company

But that was love and it's an ache I still remember

You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness

Like resignation to the end, always the end

So when we found that we could not make sense

Well, you said that we would still be friends

But I'll admit that I was glad it was over

But you didn't have to cut me off

Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing

And I don't even need your love

But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough

No, you didn't have to stoop so low

Have your friends collect your records and then change your number

I guess that I don't need that though

Now you're just somebody that I used to know

Now you're just somebody that I used to know

Now you're just somebody that I used to know

Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over

But had me believing it was always something that I'd done

But I don't wanna live that way

Reading into every word you say

You said that you could let it go

And I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know

But you didn't have to cut me off

Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing

And I don't even need your love

But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough

No, you didn't have to stoop so low

Have your friends collect your records and then change your number

I guess that I don't need that though

Now you're just somebody that I used to know

Somebody (I used to know)

Somebody (now you're just somebody that I used to know)

Somebody (I used to know)

Somebody (now you're just somebody that I used to know)

I used to know

That I used to know

I used to know

Somebody

The Halls of McClean

I spent roughly a year there, in two stints. Basically, two long halls with a kitchionette type area, individual rooms, a heavily armored screened in porch. An elevator with keys going up to staff floors.

And I walked the halls of McClean. Through the shadows and enduring the storms...

Then they snicker. Oh the poor shit. He makes up his demons and they lock him away. Oh poor us, we have to tolerate the little shit and his demons. WERE YOU OVER A YEAR BEHIND LOCKED DOORS!?!? DID YOU NOT SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY!?!? WHAT OF LAW CONVICTED ME BEFORE YOU LOCKED ME UP AND THREW AWAY THE KEY?????? WHAT CRIME DID I COMMIT????????????

And there was Clozaril... the ashes and the dust rose into shape... were moved to a halfway house... Ran to CVS... took a cocktail... back to the house... there was EMS, waiting. My absence had been reported. 

I'm the addict? YOU PUT ME ON MEDICATION, THEN YOU BLAME ME FOR BEING ON DRUGS? I'M SOCIETY'S PROBLEM????? AM I THE ONE WHO LOCKED ME AWAY?????????? YOU TOOK ME THERE ON A PLANE. DROPPED ME OFF LIKE A SUITCASE. NO LIGHT, NO TV, NO FRIENDS, NO NOTHIN. BLAME THE DID. IT'S DAMNED CONVIENENT. KICK IT AROUND. LAUGH IT UP.

By the time I reached Beth Israel Deaconess, I was in an altered state of consciousness...

Coma #2. Why did I wake up again? I'm back! Running around!

Woke up. Back to McClean. More Clozaril. Ashes and Dust is back. We're piled into a car, piled onto a cot or makeshift bed outside the nurses' station at Lost and Rigged, which tried to refuse me. Another year... A PhD and the drugs working their magic... Ashes and Dust reshaped. The Guardian Arose. No Diamonds just yet... The child came home... the origin remained.

You spend enough time in places like McClean... You get like this...

There are plenty of shadows in those hallways... There are echoes in those hallways... there's very little light, and it's artificial. There's social workers barricaded in offices on the upper floor... The MDs walk around like Gods... The attendants move you around... You want nightmares? Go to McClean. You'll find them. Metal doors with the small windows. Turn the key and you'll locked in all night.

Don't bother to scream. Won't make a difference.

They put him on TV, that God. He had a name. German. One or twice, he would take that key, turn it in the elevator door. turn a key for a particular floor, one of the staffing levels. I think there were only two floors above ground. It was the Mood Disorders and Psychotic Unit. YOU KNOW, THE NAZIs WERE GERMAN TOO. THEY HAD THESE PLACES. THEY CALLED THEM CAMPS. Only this German didn't carry a gun. He carried Harvard's drug trials. Clozaril was taken off the market, put back on. They said, people are dropping like flies in the Boston Area. Let's medicate. We'll call it Clozana. It's the legalized THC. DRUG THEM UP. SIDE EFFECTS MAY INCLUDE... so many things you'll eventually be dead anyways. How do you think my medical chart has the long list of physical ailments? This shit ain't kosher. It kills you. Why do I have the scars on my arms? IV. ECT. Clozaril blood tests. It can kill your immune system, and if it doesn't, you'll be dead from the other side effects eventually. Give it time. Diabetes, fatty liver, cholesterol, Immune system changes... This shit kills you. One day at a time. Only we get to make it in a factory. Too bad the patient expired...

SPREAD THE BLAME AROUND. YOU WEREN'T LOCKED UP. OVER A YEAR. THEN THE ECT TO MAKE YOU FORGET BEING A VEGETABLE IN A METAL GARDEN.

I went back there once. It made no sense. When I was at Riggs. I went back. Walked right up to that armored porch. Stood around. Walked away. 

I'm supposed to help people? Like this? Good luck. I am the walking dead. I rise up again. I walk around. I am the Ashes, I am the Dust. I take a shape. I have a name.

Occasionally, I can put this down. Just don't talk about the past. There's things I don't want to remember.

I like to live a quiet life. Sensory hypersensitivity. I can hear from different rooms, different floors. Outside, I can hear for miles it seems. I prefer to mind my own business. I've heard enough. 

Abandonment Fantasies

Yesterday, I had another one. I was in the counseling office, working with Intern #1. There were people in the hallway. One of them sounded like Intern #2 that I had just met with the other day. I recognized tone of voice, I filled in details even as I was talking to Intern #1, and there I was on the encrypted app, telling my counselor that these people can't quit on me. I was wrong. There were only five other people in the building. Two professionals, Intern #1, two other people.

I had the earplugs in most of the time. Now I'm getting the noise cancelling ones. I gotta pick my realities carefully. When I'm on too much meds, I don't do that. I don't put myself in the right places when I'm on too much meds. I'm picking my places and people carefully. Earplugs... Need new glasses with the tinting and antiglare to control the light. Wear masks when I'm feeling cross, so people don't ask me questions.

I got my own problems. Leave them alone. Leave the professionals alone. Don't weaponize me. If you're over the age of 18, you have legal responsibilities. Keep them in mind. If you're not, talk to an adult when you have a problem or concern. If you follow, stay within the limits of the law. Don't follow too close. Find different outlets here and there. Give people space. Auditory. Visual. Tactile. Those are important boundaries. Don't you go haunting. We don't need more ghosts.

These professionals, they restructure your thoughts. They use careful wording, tone of voice... it's called suggestion. I've done hypnosis. That has risks. It went the wrong way a bit. You have sensory issues, you gotta be careful with public places. You get overwhelmed. That's why church doesn't do it for me. Too much stimulation. I get overwhelmed and I shut down. It's not a spiritual thing. Yes, I was raised Catholic. Yes, it is still a guiding framework for me. No, I can't go to church much. No, I'm not a Satan worshiper. Some very moral, religious people don't know many people. And they do great. I'm not saying I'm them. I'm saying it can be done.

Riggs was big on the psychoanalysis/psychodynamics. A lot of suggestion. That psychologist had a gentle touch. Said very little. Restructured my mind a bit. He missed some things, I think. Now I do the family/relations type stuff. They do the rest. 

Numbers

 Off again... here I go... round and round... for the show

1 2 3

1 2 3

4 5 6

Round to 8

Back to 2

Now to eight

... Where's 7? 7, come in please.

7, stand down.

Number one, drop the toys.

Blue Screen. Intermission.

Building up... Here comes 4, save the day, to the floor...

7's lifting weights again...

2's looking for a friend.

3's got stage fright... 5's picking fights.

Rising up, here again, we're a crowd, here to win

Should we call roll?

Take 5, 5.

Drop a number.

All together, like we can!

Raise a hand! Rise again!

Let's all say Grace. Is there a Grace here? No? Not yet.

Let's search for Endurance.

You want me back? Take a number.

The Whole Nine Yards

 Well, there was one time I got dragged into the manager's office. 

It was regarding a regular caller. I still remember the name. I was fond of that one. You spend enough time with this stuff, it's hard not to think about it. Well, be careful with your social media. That was the take home. Don't you go posting on facebook even a vague reference. The slightest detail. It didn't matter I didn't use the name. They monitor the social media when you work/volunteer there. You can't reference anything at all. I talked to that one many times. I felt like I understood. Oh, there was no advice giving. Not allowed. Reflections, validations, and then what's your plan? And then you forget.

Suicide in Progress

The one I remember most. It was on Crisisline. She was a young adult, I'd guess right around 19. I don't know what the PC term is. Latino? Hispanic? She was in a panic.

My brother is out front waving a gun! He says he's going to kill himself! 

And, per procedure, my partner/supervisor is by my side, on the line with 911.

Tell him you love him. Tell him it's gonna be ok. We've got help on the way.

There was another procedure. You end the call, you don't find out what happens. 

The final procedure: if it goes the wrong way, you get debriefed.

WE NEVER GOT DEBRIEFED.

Guardian

 I am the Guardian and I walk in the light. I have a home. That home is Crisisline/988.

I lived there for 3 and a half years. I remember the building. The halls. The call room. The systems. They may have changed. It's 988 now. It wasn't always local of course. Calls were sometimes rerouted from centers that weren't available.

I was one of a handful of male trainees at the training. By the time I was volunteering, I was the only male volunteer or entry level worker. There was one other male worker. I remember him well. On these things I have to be very vague. We all live here.

There were three lines. Crisisline, Julie Valentine, and SafeHarbor.

Julie Valentine was definitely the darkest one. Stuff you never wanted to know that you didn't want to know. Most of the callers were female. But when the only two people in the room are male, you don't gotta lotta options. There was one caller that had a history. You wanted to write it off as make believe. You didn't want to know. It sounded like an NC-17 movie. It sounded like The Shining. I remember it well. That's all I'm gonna say about that. I had enough sense and training to keep my comments limited. It was sad.

Crisisline was more meat and potatoes. When it got serious, it got life and death. But there were plenty of regulars. 

SafeHarbor was not as dark as JV. It was processing. This happened, this person is dangerous, can they find me? Where's the police escort? Well, they found the shelter last time. They're gonna track me down. Again, mostly females. It was hard to find options for males. But they did end up having to call.

Follow

There was someone that I followed... it started a long time ago. 

I was 17... one of my darkest times... I needed a voice to bring me out. That voice was there. She was roughly half a dozen years older. Bright voice... full of life. Easy smile... very open. 

It was a voice I kept to to keep me steady for 21 years, on and off. A voice to give me strength. It was an easy voice to remember. 

I heard it a few more times, from time to time.

The last time I heard that voice, I was 38. I'm thankful that voice was there. 

I've drawn too much attention to that voice. More attention then that voice needed. I'm just thankful that voice was there. It kept me here so many times. When other voices would get loud, I recalled that voice. That voice is gone. I let it go. I'm a bit more steady now. Closer to the ground. I no longer need to cling to that voice and its reassurances and encouragements, which were many. Laugh was like music. That voice had a steady hand with me. She wasn't afraid. But I caused her grief. She was no stranger to grief. 

There were other voices along the way. Voices I relied on. They were kind enough to let me hear them. 

Another voice, I found it when I was 38... she knew how to help me with my grief... but that voice had to go away. Very suddenly. That's how I returned to the first one. Because I was shattered. I had bought a gun. I was going to go away. I was going to be free. Someone talked me down. I sold the gun. And I returned to the first... told her what happened. She came to tears... she stayed steady... she was strong. She never foreswore me... she stayed steady... her eyes not so bright... but steady... even when she left, she was steady, looked me in the eyes... she denied everything... she refused to put me down. Even when others tried to pull her away, she stayed steady, denied everything, pushed them away. She refused to let me break. She would not allow it. She had given too much to let me break. She would not allow it.

She kept me here. She knew how to do that. She was steady. So here I am. I am whole. Closer to the ground.

She would never let me break.

I went too far in looking her up. I went too far in texting her. But I believe the last message i sent, the last she ever heard from me...

I said I'm your guardian angel. If you ever need anything... anything at all... you come find me. You find me. 

I meant every single word. I still do. Some things you can't forget. You shouldn't forget. Someone saves your life, you have to remember. How many times she did that, its hard to say. She just knew how. She didn't have to be there to do it. Because she was steel. Unbreakable. She was smaller then me. She didn't seem to notice.

I still remember. So many moments she was there. Some of my darkest hours, I didn't have to picture her or remember her voice because she was literally there. Steady. Building me up. Being patient. She touched my hand. We played volleyball. We talked. She watched me play some soccer. She listened. She treated me like a good friend. She valued me. I don't remember her ever asking for anything or putting me down.

She was more then a rock. She was an unbreakable anchor through so many storms. 21 years of storms. You think about 21 years... that's a long time. So yeah. I get a lot of heat for that. But she held on. I never had to tell her my name. For 21 years she remembered. 21 years. 

How many people keep a stranger alive for 21 years with just presence? That's hard to do. So if anyone is proud of me. I think I know who.

Pillars of Trust

The echoes of the city, they slowly fade with time...
There beyond the meadows... locked within the vines...

Streams of sunlight bearing down

This place that once was mine.

Here the ancient pillars stand, holding up the wall...

Carved into the weathered stone... are records of my fall..

And faded is the mirror there

With an image one can't recall.

Papers cast upon the stone, beside a pool of water...

Letters written long ago... the pain that I begot her...

And even as it fades away

Yet again it stirs...

To remind me not to bring my sorrow

Back beyond that wall.

Looking up the footprints fall, across a field of mud...

Washing in... the memories play, of the times before the flood...

A bird, it picks at crumbs of what

Was shared in heart and blood.

Where the faded footprints pass, is a mystery in my mind...

As the voices call again, so stretches out the vine...

The clock it will not wind again...

Surrender this... to time.

Thought Boundaries

 Well, it's back to this. The one thing the professionals can all agree on. Boundaries.

I've started wearing earplugs almost 24/7. Even with them on, I hear more then I need to hear. Funny thing is, with tone of voice and other nonverbals, yo entiendo Espanol. More or less. Comprendo italiano. More or less. As far as the Hablo and the parlano, that's where I run into trouble. Funny thing is, sometimes I like hispanics more then Italians. Maybe I'll give up on English, Italian, and Spanish and learn... well, there's always binary. That's just a lot of 1s and 0s. 

I'm trying to keep my communications spaced out. Use fewer words. Now people are like, we want to "lay eyes on you". So I'm having people do that. If enough people do that, maybe everyone else can find something else to talk about and think about.

So back to the Self Care School of thought. My coursework has been extensive. I've passed all the hobby electives. I've got the three focuses: Processing, Mindfulness, and Boundaries. The third focus has been the hardest. The first is the most disorienting. Every time I pass a hurdle in the first focus, I bounce into the Mindfulness skills to manage dissociation, then I'm readjusting the boundaries. I guess I thought that it was mostly just the first two and that the boundaries stayed the same. But no. The boundaries need adjustment. They need maintenance. Like a good fence. The Processing is like a ground tremor, I get a little disoriented, I use the mindfulness skills to find myself, and then I use those skills and steady and sturdy boundaries to adjust my fencing. Cuz there's always somebody wanting to do it for me. The Professionals are the fence posts. They stand steady so the structure maintains its shape and purpose. I can't move the posts. I'm not that strong. I can adjust the lattice and the paint and post signs if needs be. The earplugs and the music from the calm app are the sound barriers. Glasses and face masks can serve as visual barriers. Clothing is a good visual barrier. Thought barriers include call screening and written communication. Occasionally it's the Hasta Luego. Drive throughs are my friends. 

People are like TMI, TMI... well, be careful what you ask. Sometimes a nod and a smile or a wave is all you need. Excessive curiosity, excessive need for detail? That's how problems begin. 

Sometimes it takes a while to get to the truth. The truth doesn't come in standardized sizes. Everyone's truth is slightly different. There's not enough labels in the world for that. Not enough meds. Helping someone arrive at the truth is a tremendous skill to have. Sometimes it takes time. No matter what your field. They have to want to find it, it has to be available from someone or somewhere, and they have to learn what to look for. It starts with little hints and signs and builds from there. They have to arrive at the truth for their problem at the right pace, with the right hints and signs both physically and emotionally. Everyday, the problems are different and everyday there's slight differences or sometimes big ones in the hints and signs you find. They are all over the world. From all the people and places and things and animals that the higher power or powers have placed here. Any wise person looks to multiple sources for their signs. That's where trust comes in. That's where experience comes in. Don't trust blindly, nor return to the same sources of trust blindly. I've rearranged my trust a bit. I thank God for that.

Reflections

Moving away, and then back towards
The magnetism, I can't avoid

You pull me in, I push away

You're back again, you're here to stay.

You've got your words, and I've got mine

We've said enough, we've had our time

Tell me what you want to hear...

Do you miss the old times we had together?

I've been walking in my mind.

Past the oceans of my thoughts...

finding respite from expectations that quickly rise and fall.

And as I pass the memories,

And there is joy within my soul once again.

Quietly I set my pace... away from the words that others place...

And though they come to judge again...

I let them say their peace.

Ignoring all the sneers.

For sneers and snarls are easy friends...

That does not make them right. 

They will never like my words,

They may not like my pace...

But in my time I do forgive...

Let them have their hate.

©️ 2025, Accountec, LLC