Distracted

    One of the blessings of my life recently is how seldom my phone rings. Life is full of distractions. People determined for one reason or another to grab my attention. That's why I like writing. You can pick it up or put it down. You can take it with you. You can put it away.

    Auditory stimulation is much less voluntary. I mean, there's podcasts and audiobooks. I'm so tired of talking to some people. So tired of pretending to care. 

    I just want to emphasize again that I don't actually want to hurt anyone, and I no longer have Elle's information. It was a mistake. She was never in danger. She looked out for me. She's gone now. That's all there is to it. 

    I need to work on my recall and my thought cohesion. These weird headaches to me indicate either DID or TBI. Either way, I don't think that's a sign that more mental manipulation is a good idea.

Cooks in the Kitchen

     Artstick liked to say, you can't have too many cooks in the kitchen. She's right. But that goes beyond medicine into the psychological and into hobbies and general life. Too many people in charge is a bad thing. Too many influences is a bad thing. That Social Determinates of Health thing got me thinking a while back. There are so many influences that affect a person's wellbeing. I'm just glad life is getting quieter. 

    Hopefully, no one is going to push me too hard, and I'll be ok. They tell me I'll be ok if I don't push too hard. Slow and steady, not too much excitement. Some people are never satisfied for even one second. Unfortunately, some things are permanent. Unfortunately, mistakes made 5, 10, 20 years ago can have permanent consequences. The thing I need to do now is maintain. 

    I need to focus on building new social connections and my writing. Maybe when I've been stable for a while I can retake the EA exam. But I need to spend time focusing on my health and my home and these social connections. I've had too many doctors stirring the pot. And technically, Artstick is still in charge. So, everyone else needs to stay the hell out of the kitchen. 

    Spravato is a new medication. Any medication has risks. I know my team has factored in the disaster that was March and adjusted accordingly. What happened was in truth, an acute reaction to Spravato that had no identifiable connection to hemp products. 

Truly Great People

Robin Williams

Denzel Washington

Nelson Mandela

Mother Teresa

(this one is controversial) Barack Obama

FDR

Nathaniel Greene

(Easy one) George Washington

My Great Aunt

Too Grounded

     I feel like I'm becoming too grounded in that I'm realizing how dysfunctional life can be. I believe very strongly that I've been miseducated and mislead on what legalized drugs can do for and to the mind. It's not that I want to whip up hysteria or spread hatred, but I don't believe I've told the truth. I don't want to engage with back and forth's or frenzies of exaggeration. I feel like I need a simpler life. I want to bring positivity to the world. I'm not sure why people find me so intimidating. I don't actually want to hurt people. 

    I guess because I kept it locked up inside. At times, I pushed for the wrong things. I'm a rather determined person. It may seem like I give up but I never do. I may slightly adjust but I don't give up. I feel like I need to learn to adjust more. Some people can be rather private. Auditorily, I usually am rather private. It's hard to insert the right words at just the right time in a fluid conversation. I don't feel a whole lot of passion for life in general. I feel too disillusioned. I'm tired of people trying so hard to influence me. 

    That's why I'm focused on trying to communicate who I am in writing. So that people in the community can get to know me for who I really am. If they want to. I don't want to be in people's lives if they don't want me there. I've learned that lesson. I just hope there are people that want to know who I really am. I know some people will never read, they will just talk and form narratives. Oh he's the Bipolar, he's the drug addict, he's this, he's that... I don't have the energy for that. I feel like I keep saying this, but I'm getting too old for so many things. 

    I should have gotten married 10, 20 years ago. Whatever happened to that? What happened to sticking to one career? Why did it always have to be about what my family wanted? There's so many things I could have been. I'm tired of everyone trying to tell me what I need and not having a damn clue. I feel like I need to turn my ears off. 

    I need to be patient. I need to try to work with people. I need some calm.

 I feel like im letting these people destroy my life by playing into thier mind games. That's what makes me Angry. 

 There was a helpful poem that mip gave in one of the groups. It was about not repeating past mistakes. Going down a different road. Thats what I need to do. Step back from certain relationships and stressors, not look to hospitals for fixits, find peace on the outside. 

Ironic

 

What's really ironic is to have so many people seeming so desperate for me to talk and yet so pissed off when I actually do. I definitely need to be much much more careful.

Wierd

    It's really weird when one person has so many strong opinions and misconceptions built around themself. So, I'm just saving my breath and energy and telling everyone at once: I don't want to hurt anyone, and I'm too tired to argue with you. I need to focus on writing and working. Best wishes to all. 

    I'm going back to forgetting that the March clusterfuck ever happened. I'm pretending that MIP and I ended on good terms and that we're on the same side. Because that's what I need to do. Not like anyone from MIP reads this anyways. 

    I mean seriously. This is like The British (me) trying to convince the Italians (family) and the Americans (hospitals) that we all believe the same things and have a fully functional NATO alliance that agrees on everything. Just the fact that I need such a ridiculous metaphor to try to appease everyone says something by itself. I'm one person. I cannot possibly be worth arguing that much over. Find someone else to argue over. I can't spend the rest of my life apologizing for Elle and trying to clear my name regarding Prichards. We're all human, we all have faults, we all make mistakes.

I always had the anger, the thoughts, the issues, you just didn't know.

Reminders

 #5 stop engaging with people who never agree with you

#2 stop going to psych hospitals

#3 stop getting legalistic

#4 stop trying to help people who don't want to be helped

#1 they don't want to play

#6 learn some new recipes

#7 go back to the gym

#8 don't repeat patterns

OK, I need to be less angry still...

Dear Elle,

    Maybe you have better words then me. But you knew me. Maybe you're not angry. Maybe you can see that I don't want to and did not ever want to hurt you. Maybe you can explain. I feel like a lemming. I keep going to mental hospitals expecting different results. It's really become bizarre. It doesn't even make sense to me, and I'm the one doing it. They wanted me to advocate. Now they want me to shut up. They can't make up their minds. My family only likes it if it's Bipolar and Prichards is faultless. They only like it if they can blame me/genetics. My world is distorted. It makes no sense. Maybe you can help them understand. Call off the dogs. Preferably before Monday. 

Thanks,

Ashes

Mental Manipulation

    Ok, maybe a little less fixated on doctors and less paranoid about what they're doing. 

    So where was I? Elle was an RN at the 600-page hospital. The one that gets nervous about me now. The one that has the poem with my signature. That hospital. And yes, I ran a background check on her. And you can judge me for that. But while you're doing that, I need you to save some of that precious judgement for these doctors. Maybe in the 90s we had a higher opinion of what medicine could do. I don't know. But what I can tell you is, absent a lot of fancy metaphors that I haven't had the time or energy to come up with just yet, that a lot of mental manipulation and legalized drugs can be dangerous. That's my problem with the old guard. Elle kept me safe. She looked out for me. Never failed me, not once. She didn't overstep. She didn't go outside the wheelhouse. I was always safe in her care. 

    Now I have weird headaches, memory issues, focus issues, trouble working, boundary problems, anger problems. That's my concern with these doctors; they push so hard and expect so much and then fuck the patient when it goes sideways. Come up with excuses and lies, come up with everything but the truth. But some people know the truth. The doctors pushed too hard, expect too much, use too many drugs, and then the governor's office has to say stop. And thank God for that. I don't need everyone to understand, I need certain people to stay out of my business and out of my healthcare. I need to slow down and go easy. The body and the mind can only take so much. Too many cooks in the kitchen and people not minding their own business is dangerous. 

    They should have told Prichards no some 20 years ago and to his credit from time to time he did try to say that there was only so much that could be done. Atlanta did say no. No one was listening. Never mind Massachusetts. 

    Lucky me, on Monday I have double duty. The internist and the head Doc. This is why I asked my old friend Brannon to keep an eye. The more eyes the better. Because my health care is not a matter of public debate. But it is in the interest of the Health Department to make sure no funny business is going on. Because I'm trying to work. I'm trying to heal. And what I do remember worries me. The truth is I don't want to hurt anyone. Not Elle. Not Leaves. Not Molly. Not anyone. I'm too old for that stuff. 

    I just hope it's not too late for me. I don't know if I can focus well enough to work consistently, so I need to go slow and work with the doctors and I don't know that I'll ever speak to Elle again but I'm hoping she understands. I want to live a quiet life. I don't want too much attention. I want to try to finish my writing. 

    The fact is I didn't write the prescriptions. The fact is that if someone is improperly influenced and drugged, bad things can happen. The fact is, I was miseducated and pushed hard. And I made mistakes. I need to be realistic. Pressure can be dangerous. I'm being more careful with trust.

    OK, so my sleep and my focus aren't great and my regulation is still off. But I feel like I'm getting some traction in that I'm learning how other people are operating. They're starting to make a little more sense. Their patterns are a little more readable. That's a start.

Hypocrites

 

    They're always coming up with reasons to bury me and Molly. Hypocrites.

Ironic

    I've been noticing patterns. Now the Psychiatrists are running out of ideas. They're not focusing on hair color or Elle. Now they're alternating male/female. It's rather amusing if you stop and look at it. You do realize the problem goes well beyond me, yes? Y'all literally started it. You taught me the bullshit.

    Ok, maybe threatening to shoot myself in front of North Wing was a bit much. I'm just tired of my families fighting over who I am. 

    Maybe we're slow learners. But I think we're catching up with each other.

Are they trying to kill me?

    Why, no, the doctors don't want to kill me, they just don't know what they're doing. So, I have to help them understand...