Community

    I really am hoping to turn my attention to doing something more positive for this community then watch a hospital system and my family fight over what I need and who is to blame. I just don't think this conflict is helpful. I don't think we need super medicated citizens permanently disabled just so they can look perfect and talk fancy. I really don't think it helps to learn 3 careers worth of information and burn yourself out trying to be everything to everyone. I don't think we need ODs in our ERs or people threatening each other. 

    I don't think this is helpful. That's why, again, I'd like to thank the governor, the medical board, the cdc, scdhec, and DSS for stepping in. For putting the brakes. And mindfulupstate and city center for recognizing valid problems in this community. South Carolina has real problems. So, maybe, just maybe i should figure out what I need to do. And maybe accountability keeps people safe. The house was full of pills. Everywhere. So many different types. You have no idea how many pills. Far too many. 

    Perfection isn't a virtue. It isn't safe. Can't be teaching people to drug it away. You end up with word salad, dx extravaganza, pills everywhere, dead tired, haunted, miserable, looking ok but not feeling anything like that, and then the physical issues... GI wrecked. Metabolism crazy. It's not worth it. It's so not worth it. Just leave people be. Let them be human but without controlling others or medicating them to death. 

    We have the largest prison population in the world by far already. How many more will we lock up? If ok can be ok, and money is not the end all and be all, then maybe it's ok to let people be imperfect. And free. Maybe I like this place too much. But it'd be nice to see people treating others a little better. Not so focused on perfection and ideology. Religious or otherwise. Because I feel like I have a very hard core, brutal liberalism on one side and a hard-core conservatism on the other that can be brutal too.

Big Picture

    I really hope people are starting to get the big picture. That overmedication is not ok. Abuse is not OK. Harassment is not ok. That whatever my problem is, carting me off from this hospital to that hospital and medicating the life out of me is not helpful. It's not helpful to force me to talk to lawyers and mental health staff. It's not helpful to inspire me to contact DSS or FBI or SCDHEC or the MEDICAL BOARD regardless of what my problem is. 

    Whatever my problem is or isn't, some people aren't healthy together. I think, at a bare minimum, the entirety of the upstate mental health community can agree, as numerous ones already have, that I have unhealthy relationships and certain people need to stay out of my life. For the good of this community. For its safety and security. We are not good in combination. I've got to relearn a few things. Just leave it alone. Let it rest. Just leave people be. Let ok be ok. We need to all take some big steps back and try to forget.

    Let it all go. Permanently. Let's not repeat patterns. Let's not go back to the same people. Let's not threaten or hurt anyone. Just let it rest. Keep South Carolina safe. Peaceful. Quiet. Part of that is leaving me be. At least until these two people, and thier respective teams and consultants (which includes multiple mds) say otherwise. If every shrink with a name up the East Coast has already tried, and these two teams believe i should stay home, then maybe I should do that. The cat is doing well. He's been in such good spirits. Happy as a clam most of the time. I get upset at times. I start pacing and I get lost in my mind. Just leave it alone. 

    These people are helping me. Let them do that. They're doing well. Don't make me talk to lawyers, DSS, anyone else. I don't like doing it. And if I have to go to a hospital, don't threaten me. It's not a good idea.

Drug Demons

Something that hadn't occurred to me until recently is how interesting people seem to find me. It was rather disconcerting at first. Being the last born of educated parents can affect the mind. Sometimes, people don't realize and make it worse.

If you get the wrong types of attention, it can distort the mind. Interpretation can run amuck. It's easy to get labeled bipolar, especially if you're male. Doesn't mean the label is helpful or the medications either. Highly perfection oriented populations can misdiagnose so easily. Distorting someone's perception of the world and themselves isn't hard to do. Creating chaos, through highly traumatic events or through unpredictable and varied demands will create people with many talents and little consistency. It will make them act bipolar. No chemicals required. They will rise and fall and be agents of chaos, because that is what they were taught. You don't have to go to McClean to know what messed up is. While some dx's like DID are rare and not well understood, they are not so rare in fact. Because these problems, they have like problems, and some hide better then others. The symptoms shine through. For DID and borderline, it's those patterns. Very well defined patterns. Reinforced patterns. Locking up people with patterns is like locking a bunch of thieves in an art museum. What will they learn from each other while gazing on valuable things they cannot have?  How will they heal? There's a few dozen geniuses with psych MDs that are so incredibly allergic to the truth. They can't see how they are part of the problem. They don't want to see. They want the reputation and money. It's sad. Promoting drugs and finding problems with people. It's truly sad. They may think I'm the insect they couldn't quite kill or stop from buzzing. But I am the warning. I am the warning of what fault finding can bring. Now they need to see that reflection. So the world can be safer. Demonizing people creates exactly that: demons. Drugged, useless demons. So great job guys, I'm sure we all appreciate it.

Physical

I've moved from a deep freeze to semi freeze and now i seem to shift between a mild fight state and mild shutdown. The fight state involves more GI upset and increased BP and temperature. 

They call it polyvagal theory. The engagement zone, the freeze zone, the fight zone. There's much more detail but I'm still learning the truth and unlearning the Bipolar bullshit and toxic masculinity. But I truly was screwed over by psychiatrists addicted to their own ideas of importance, ignoring red flags, overprescribing, and endangering this community with limited understanding of fight/flight symptoms, dinosauric theory, and a list of patented drugs that numb and alter behavior.  I helped them do it. I'm no longer helping them. There are others that are numbed and walking around with their issues. That ignore their reality.

Sometimes medication is necessary. It should be used with caution. Men aren't dangerous unless they are taught to be dangerous. And even then, they have to choose. Different men make different choices.

Patience

I struggle with patience. A traumatic event on top of a sudden increase in awareness is not a recipe for understanding. Being highly analytical is not a recipe for patience. The memory blocks and processing problems make tasks difficult. I'm too eager to engage. I slip into complacency. I look around and I see denial almost everywhere. People dripping with ignorance and yet only too sure of themselves. People with letters engaging in fits of incompetence and then disappointed at the results. Thinking that surely it's not that hard. Thinking that they are special. Thinking that they can see through the issues and fix me. It's not that it amuses me to see them fail or even that I want them to fail. I'm just amazed that they are wasting thier energy and engaging in such delusions. They called Prichards the magic maker. Now everyone wants to fix me and no one can. They wonder how I learned to idealize and engage in delusions when they themselves taught me line by line. They wonder if this "Bipolar" simply dropped down from heaven. They don't have the patience to realize that they themselves are human, they themselves make mistakes and fail. They want to demonize me but can't look in the mirror. I wonder why. I could be more patient if they weren't so full of shit themselves. Some of the changes in me are long term. Others are relatively permanent. There is no fixing me. The brain still has plasticity. Let it rest. Don't play with fire. And I will work on thoughts, emotions, and routines. Forget diagnoses. Forget medical solutions. Forget trying to manage me. Leave me be. Give me peace. I'll give you the same. I need quiet. That more then anything.

Thermometer

10. Rage

Psychosis like behavior. Defensive, abrupt, sometimes paranoia. Visual changes, fading out, hearing changes, faraway. Ranting. Intense fear.

9. Fury, hostile, closed. No longer listening.

8. Anger, impatient

^ Danger ^

7. Cautious, Irritable

6. Nervous/Alarmed

5. Overstimulated/stressed

^ Too activated ^

4. Peak, headache, fatigue, losing focus

3. Engrossed

2. Pleasant engagement 

^ Productive ^

1. Unoccupied, attentive, curious

0. Bored/tired. Slightly dreamy. Adhd like.

FBI

So I rather regret filing a report with the FBI. I have a sneaking suspicion that my report is very related to the internet disruptions and password reset requests that day. So my professionals are getting used to having conversations with state and federal agencies... the local police can breathe a sigh of relief. The same people that want me to shut up know county and state officials pretty damn well. Extremely well. Unfortunately they can't control the medical board or federal officials... but I'm not law enforcement I'm just pissed off. So again, it's really a bad idea to know me unless I contact you. It attracts the wrong kind of attention. Let it alone. Don't worry about DSS. Worry about DEA and FBI instead. I'm trying to keep myself physically intact and mentally functional, help the local hospitals figure out how we got into this mess. Keep people safe. And maybe the federal government doesnt mind so much giving me some disability and some insurance, if it keeps me healthy and keeps some dirty doctors in line... maybe they come to appreciate that actually... but they probably prefer not to get contacted... so, speaking on behalf of the FBI, please don't contact me without permission. It's not a good idea. Thank you. Please don't threaten me. It's not a good idea. There are jails for some things.

Side Effects

Almost every time I talk to a non-professional who knew the medicated me I get the distinct impression that people want me to shut the hell up and medicate. Such desires have side effects. Insisting on seeing someone through a lens of medicated perfection is a distortion of reality. I get it. I kinda liked the old me. But that's how I got here. Medically complex, permanently disabled unless I learn to deal with emotions differently (near as an honest professional will tell me), unable to maintain relationships... unable to maintain jobs... a medicated perfectionism. Oh, you'll be damn strong... miserable, and unstable. You have to deal with the emotions and set boundaries, or you'll drown in pills and anger and there will be no help for you on this earth. So I strongly advise anyone who knew the old me to avoid contact unless I contact you. Oh I'm full of ideas, you made me that way... not all of them are good ones... the local hospitals and I are engaged in some learning... leave it be. Or people as far off as Singapore just might understand the dangers of overprescription and poor boundaries. I like this state. I like it quiet, safe, peaceful. I'm planning to keep it that way... but I need to work with these hospitals, improve my health and hopefully keep them from endangering the population. I especially want to discourage medical professionals yet again from contacting me directly, indirectly, or by soothsayer unless they are on a treatment team... that would be extremely poor judgment. 

Gratitude

What am I grateful for?

Knowledge...

People...

Food...

Home...

Rest...

Spring...

Peace.

Awareness

I'm seeing good signs... the hypersensitivity seems slightly less. My body feels more present. I feel more aware of people around me. Slightly less lost in my mind.

The depression seems milder. The energy a little low but more consistent. The anxiety and anger still seem a little high. Blood pressure still elevated. Heart feels a little wierd with periodic mild chest pain. Allergies... less congestion, more airway constriction, especially in the sinuses. Hands and feet are sensitive. Joints pop a lot. Forehead, gums and face have pain at times. Forehead is changing a little. I can only imagine that the neural networks in the prefrontal cortex are adapting. Some of the bizarre thoughts have faded with some of the more unpredictable physical sensations. Though I think avoiding certain memories and people is still wise. Chronic inflammation from over medicalization, numbedness, lack of processing. I'm rinsing with warm salt water. Some exercise, and continued nutrition and routine... maybe the hospital and I can avoid direct legal action... hopefully avoid threatening each other... seeing as this name is still on a building of thiers... seems rather ugly. Perhaps cooler heads can prevail. Keep people safe, but without excessive force. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Maybe some of those doctors had good ones, but they need to be careful. They need to maintain independence. Proper boundaries.

The First Time

She was magnificent. I rode her like a stallion. Oh, the creases, the curves! The way the sheets felt right out of the supply room! The long metal legs! I - damn there goes the BP monitor again... I'm waking up... 

BOLTING UPRIGHT. 3-4 PEOPLE HOLDING ME DOWN... RIPPING WIRES OFF OF AND OUT OF MY BODY... THE MONITORS GOING CRAZY...

oh yes, my love, that Hypoallergenic pillowcase looks good on you... where was I? Drifting back into my coma, I think... oh don't worry about the medical staff... they've seen delirium before...

Hospital Staff & Relationships

 When you have health problems, relationships can become a challenge. 

    Perhaps the staff at Memorial has misunderstood. Desperation is a dangerous ingredient to the mind. You've known me, for better or for worse, for decades. You brought me out of a coma. You kept me alive. It's the workers on the ground that I appreciate the most. The low-level ones. I did not come there to learn names. I know you well enough. That's the whole damn point. 

    Someone keeps you alive, you tend to remember. It's been a long time since that first coma. 17 years old. 26 years ago. You knew me even before then. Some of you have been there the whole time and are getting ready to retire. So I wrote you the poem. Safe Harbor

Anyways, I mis-learned a bit. That's why I don't want the pills anymore. Just the bare minimum.

Family doesn't like to remember these things. Big surprise.

    But hospitals built me up. Not just one of you.

    I just have an issue with misprescribing dinosauric diagnosis addicted docs who lack proper independence.