Dat Bat. Nebber a dull moment. Spidey just wanted to go to di beach, ride di wabes, but noooooo... der is he is again. He's behind di udder sand dune. UHOH! He saw Fwed. Di seagulls are patrolling di beaches. Der he goes... he's getting flappy... He's got his SPF 50... now he's flying apter anudder blonde. Dat Bat.
Spidey likes di sea shells... sun radder bright, doh.
Uh oh, dey spotted him. He's hiding behind anudder dune. He's covering himself in sunscreen and gull fedders. He's making a break for it! Der's a redhead! Anudder Blonde! Der goes a Brunette! He darts! He Dashes!
Here's a gween wun. Spidey try on. Go for crawl. Fit rite in wit di cwabs.
I just woke up from a dream. I dreamt that I had gone to MIP from the ER. That I was thinking of suing the hospital. That I was working with the FBI. But its not true. They didn't say we need to ship this guy outta state. They did ship me out of state. I'm back in MA. I'm back at Fort McClean. I'm with Conner.
But there's a guy down there. His name is Angry. He's having one of those out of body experiences. He's thinking he's working with FBI. He's bitter and a little bit broken. Angry's been around the block a few times. He's hallucinating lawsuits. He stops breathing sometimes. He's lashing out a bit. Angry a little too close. He needs to step back. He's scaring people.
This is when I need to do my crazy old man thing and ramble. So, if you'll indulge my delusionality, I hear things from time to time. Being concerned as I am. In a slightly fixated way. I'm feeling some resentment. About being pushed. Psychologically. Around. And the egotistical types that do the pushing. But maybe I'm blowing things out of proportion. Yet I want to help people. And I feel like... I've not been able to. I need a lot of space. I need to separate from different groups of people. There are certain things I need to not think about. I can't be on everyone's side at once. I certainly can't defend Prichards to Springbrook. I can't play Springbrook vs mip. And im certainly not finding a new Center or provider to blame. I trusted what artstick was doing. Like leaves and Elle and in a way prichards, she had to go away. Vacations are good. They are. Sometimes people need to go away. Like me from memorial or me from... well Springbrook... and me from mip and me from a lot of people and places. Other people have to go away too. Like divorce and emergencies. I just need to be careful what I say and do. That's all. Like a mental vacation. I gotta take breaks. That's what I need. Slowing down. Simpler. Not sure what to do or how exactly to do it. Going different directions. Not needing too much attention. Mind my own business again. Need to be careful. Too bad artsticks not here. Hard to trust doctors. But they don't trust me either so. We have something in common. But the PA is helping.
So I need to be delusional now and then. About ER doctors lying. About ERs playing games. About state funded hospitals being dysfunctional. And then public health and the fbi can judge my delusionality.
What some people think is funny, I consider serious, and vice versa. People can take things all sorts of ways, so in group settings it's important to be careful what you encourage. That's why I'm concerned about hospitals. Because some providers coming out of those hospitals have done dangerous things. I didn't have the right boundaries. I misplaced trust in some major ways. Maybe people knew less then. Maybe some Psychiatrists simply prefer to ignore established research that they don't understand and don't want to understand. I need to be able to trust. be less angry. And I can't be honest with people that lie to me. I can't protect liars. Or overmedicators.
Ok, so here's my idea. That Arson gave me. What we can do is improve the system. Granted, I never worked in audit and my memory isn't totally cohesive, but... If we do this Patch Adams style... keeping in mind the deteriorative effect of trauma on health, we can improve South Carolina Health care. One ego centric doctor at a time.
because I'm narrowing down a list of lawsuits. Against clozapine manufacturers, McClean, the narcissist, and his script happy friend(s). And contemplating the finer points of racketeering. Free of intimidation or extortion. Maybe rambling delusionarily. When I hear of illegal activity. It's just the birds talking. Never you mind.
The allergist's office is funny. Oh they crack me up. The nurse. She's hilarious. She literally quotes the doctor. Quotation marks. Then she lists her degree and her certification. Every time. Like, yes, I do have a Bachelor's degree TYMV. Yes, I do have an RN, thank you very much. No, I don't want to hug you, TYVM. Two ENT recs. Maybe they can figure this deviated septum thing better then Mister Part of the Club. Maybe some medical is necessary. But MIP old guard went on a tear.
There are people who want to influence me. I don't enjoy being obsessed with a mission. A calling. They don't like the one that I chose. But I have to finish what I started. And the result is not up to me. Public Health and the government decide. That's the way it should be. People decide. Not one person or specific close interests. The public. You would not be satisfied with law enforcement, my IT work, psychology. So now you get auditing. Fuller style. And who better? I know your game plans. I know your hospitals and your systems. I remember Springbrook almost as well as mip. I know your drugs and dsms. I have a job to do. I may be your demon... but not everyone's. And in the end, justice is blind. Too many witnesses. Too many eyes. I'm not actually museum piece. But if I have to be a public referendum, then a court must decide. As quietly or as loudly as you make necessary. ✨️ chronic inflammation. Medical complex trauma. Stockholm syndrome. Look it up. Now... names to change, delusions to adjust. People to ignore. I'm federal property. Until a court rules. God complexes to shut down.
how it seems like so many people had me figured or thought they did long before I did. I've been switching a long time now. Since childhood. Usually about 8. It doesn't go away. It integrates. The memory combines through new neural connections. My brain heals. That's all. And I can help. Slow down the hyper medicalization.
I really do. Or find me interesting. My life is exciting in the wrong ways sometimes. I need to focus. But it has to be more then writing. I just worry about the directions I go in. Some people find me entirely too interesting. Psychiatrists, for example.
I got distracted again. Thinking about life and law. I just find everything rather distracting. You know, elle said something back in the 90s. She said I was a trip. Reminds me of that lady I tutored. She was a psychiatric nurse. She wanted to open a community center. I think it was cost accounting. I was helping her learn how to run one. So maybe y'all could cut me some slack. You know? If I'm helping your own people. She was from West Virginia. we worked together several times.
I waver between delusional and not so delusional, amused and not so amused. But this was kinda funny. She said to see my internist about the physical and a psychiatrist about the rest. In progress and done. Hmmm... yes... strange. Not related to VNS. Well, I didn't think so. I need to go to the library. I still question some of the life choices, but this gets tiresome. I really wouldn't isolate, but I think maybe it helps me focus. And I'm concerned. One of the old guard was at ccbh. He discharged me. Like they thought if I saw one of them, I'd simply forget what they did. No. Not quite that stupid. "Psychotic" or very much not... I'm not that stupid. I need to work on angry. Angry's a little upset. About the old guard. And their friends. Working together to keep me quiet. But, not my mess...
So, we're on a journey. Just like Arson wanted. Human science experiment on a journey. To understand what medication can and can't do. And hopefully take clozapine off the market for good. Maybe discourage Harvard drug trials. Maybe shut down some God complexes. Maybe dismantle a cult. Welp, I drank the Kool-Aid. It's wearing off. You wonder why I'm weird? Why I'm so... hyper and tired and anxious and stuff? Well now you know.
Sometimes pain is just pain. Sometimes people look at me like I'm dangerous.
What I need is for people to understand the real danger. Prescription drugs. Doctors being too close. Because then it starts looking like racketeering. Insurance Fraud. Gambling with people's lives. Human Trafficking. Then I start thinking about Federal Agents moving in. SWAT teams. Filing reports. Social workers. Protection. Lives of crime dressed up as doctoring. Some people can't touch me now. Because I switched. I'm falling back on my accounting. My tax and audit. I have many questions. Many people do. I worry. But emotions aren't bad. Consciences aren't bad. Threats are bad. Extortion is bad. Intimidation and abuse is bad. This state has a problem. Revolving around clozapine and dirty doctors. Cleanup time is coming.
Feet are doing better. Now it's head, face, back, sometimes digestive or respiratory. Sometimes my breathing becomes depressed. Sometimes I might stop breathing. But I'm getting rest and keeping professionals busy. Until this gets worked out.
Mmm but when that change comes Will you still feel the same?
How many times have I tried to turn this love around? I don't want to give up But baby it's time I had two feet on the ground Can you release me Can you release me Now that you're gone I can't help myself from wondering Oh, if you'd have come down from your high Would we've been all right? Release me Can you release me
Come on baby, come on baby You knew it was time to just let go 'Cause we want to be free But somehow it's just not that easy Come on Darlin', hear me Darlin' 'Cause you're a waste of time for me I'm trying to make you see That baby you've just got to release me Release me Release me I'm not going back to you anymore Finally my weakened heart is healing though very slow So stop coming around my door 'Cause you're not gonna find What you're looking for
What is this power you've got on me What is this power, Oh What is it,What is it
Release me Will you release me Ah...Release me Will you release me
Maybe I'm a small fish. But I'm told there are others in this pond. Some people used to sit on the Greenville County Mortality committee. Every time someone under the age of 18 died, they found out. Why are they so interested? My mind is full of questions. About things that I know. They want to label it psychosis. So it will go away. Too many people know that it's not psychosis. They are asking their own questions, making their own inferences about Greenville County. I don't know what it means. Maybe nothing. Maybe it's just conspiracy theories. But an innocent man isn't afraid of people asking questions. That's why I contacted the FBI. They haven't arrested me yet.
So, I've been thinking. Someone used the phrase "your women". My women like me at home. But why? It's not just the physical symptoms. It's more than that. I know some people are looking for answers. Like Arson. Springbrook. With so many people worried about me and what I do or don't do... it seems I'm not the only one looking for answers. I got contacted by a human trafficker today. It was disturbing. Sent me a profile of a woman in a swimsuit supposedly at UCLA. The profile was full of pictures of different women. It was alarming. I don't know who is involved. I've been contacted by various people. Some of them seem to be trying to help. Others seem to be testing me. With the government watching, there may be certain tests to pass. Some of my friends are younger. Many are women. I do want them to be safe. But what if they make a mistake? What if I make a mistake? Things can go different directions. I can't protect everyone. But I think this is part of why "my women" like me to stay home. Because they are concerned about the activities of people around me. And I see state and federal law in question. And hospitals asking questions. I think that's why Kat said I'll be ok. Because she knew. And at some people there are no longer sides. It's the people vs the criminal behavior. It's mostly the headaches. Trouble sleeping. But hopefully soon they will operate. Cut out the cancer from Greenville County. Maybe take a look at Belmont. What they are doing with Harvard. Atlanta said no. No one listened.
The nightmares tend to revolve around pills
and people suffering. Around SWAT teams and men with guns
and badges.
The Dreams revolve around writing good things
and maybe doing more taxes. Marriage. Heaven. The soul
is like a garden. I get tired. These things I know make my head hurt.
There are people that want to shut me up. But they can't control the Federal
Government. Maybe not even the state. So I need to FOCUS. On no longer
PROTECTING people. People that want me quiet and compliant. People who think
they are too rich or too educated for a hard lesson.
Until we meet again
And time makes it harder
I wish I could remember
Who Knew?
The young people make me particularly nervous. that they
don't understand what they are dealing with.
People that Know
Springbrook
Arson
Mindful
City Center
Elle
Hurray for a child that makes it through
If there's any way because the answer lies in you
They're laid to rest before they've known just what to do
Their souls are lost because
They could never find
What's this life for?
I see your soul, it's kind of gray
You see my heart, you look away
You see my wrist, I know your pain
I know your purpose on your plane
Don't say a last prayer because
You could never find
What's this life for?
What's this life for?
But they aint here anymore
Don't have to settle the score
'Cause we all live under the reign
Of one king
But they aint here anymore
Don't have to settle no goddamn score
'Cause we all live under the reign
I said, you know, of a one king
One king, one king
But they aint here anymore
Don't have to settle no goddamn score
'Cause we all live under the reign
I said, you know, of a one king
One king, one king
But they aint here anymore
Don't have to settle no goddamn score
'Cause we all live under the reign
Of one king
I'm certain, despite my delusions and lies, that the Federal government has a few small repairs regarding CCBH, MIP, Woodruff Road, the fella that used to work under church, and my families. I'm certain the FBI would need some IT people and to review medical records and bank transfers. To keep eyes on certain people I have been close to. To ask questions. About extortion, civil rights violations, drugs. About where some disability money goes. Not just mine.
See I think that prescribing drugs in controlled settings against the wishes of people is a bit like gambling. Especially, if, say, they end up in the ER the same day they are released.
I feel like I need to be patient. Because some people might be going away for a while. It's just hard to focus. There are certain people that shouldn't leave the country. Or do anything foolish. Until the government decides what to do. People get tired. They slow down or switch. Doctors are people. Some of them don't understand this. I should have slowed down sooner. people need to take turns. Or they become witnesses. Then maybe they think about switching. I've seen it happen before. I think people above the age of 70 should not be allowed to practice medicine. But maybe that's extreme. So, until my thoughts are a little less extreme... There cannot be a court date without calm and without ... sorting.
