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.

Dear Elle

 Dear Elle,

    I'd like to think that there are people who know the real me in this world. I took a few falls. I need to move past the falls. 

    I remember what Leaves said. She said "all my best". Because she knew about me and Prichards. I know I'm doing the right thing to try to understand this. I know it's very important. There are people that would rather let sleeping dogs lie, to sweep the past under the rug. I can't do that. I have to understand. It is essential to my existence to understand this. I have no choice. I have to be sure. I have to know what it means. 

    I wish i could tell you everything in person. Maybe you'd believe me, maybe not. There are people that want to stop me. They want to bury this. They are addicted to the mirage. But I have to understand my body and the drugs and Prichards. For both my sake and the sake of anyone like me. The medical system doesn't want to know. Because of the money. But I need to.

Ashes

Just for the record...

    Looking up Elle was a mistake, but if you know anything about trauma, anything at all, then it's not actually surprising. I know she knows why I did it. I shouldn't even have to explain myself to people. A handful of text messages is not a big deal. I knew her a long time. I know Leaves and Molly know why. Anyways, that was a long time ago. She's out there, she's safe, that's what matters. And she knows how to find me. I gave her everything. Not exactly a criminal mastermind. Why do I feel afraid? I don't know, exactly. The world seems chaotic. But people have to help one another. I feel safer when the people who understand are nearby. She was one. She could read me. I think I was pretty good at reading her too.

For Nurses

 

Elle

 

Well, you see her when you fall asleep

But never to touch and never to keep

'Cause you loved her too much and you dived too deep

 

And you let her go

'Cause you only need the light when it's burning low

Only miss the sun when it starts to snow

Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low

Only hate the road when you're missing home

Only know you love her when you let her go