Vengeance

    Vengeance is not strength. Forgiveness is strength. I need to forgive. I can't forget, though. I have to remember in order to make sure I don't repeat the past. 

    I cant keep going back to the hospital. I'm legit worried what they might do. I need to see beyond. I need to decrease the darkness. I need to understand what I CAN do. I keep fading out. And its wearing on people. I need to understand better. I'm getting too focused on the dark. This is getting confusing.

    The hospital needs to try harder to coordinate care. They didn't even try.

    I feel like I need to set more realistic expectations. Remind people that whatever you call what I have, with the number of hospitals I've been to, there's something seriously wrong. They just don't agree on what it is. Some call it cPTSD, others DID, some insist that they don't believe in either and they want to call it bipolar. But whatever you do or do not call it, it's a serious problem. 

    I keep trying to think that people want to help. But most of them just want to bury it. They find it amusing at first, kinda novel, then they hate it and want to bury it. 

    Now I'm no longer Prichard's demon, I'm my families' demon. The one they couldn't fix. There's simply not enough metaphors for this.

    They say the definition of insanity (or is it stupidity?) is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. I keep going to the hospital expecting different results. It doesn't make sense.

    I can't blame my families. I have to do this independently. Not rely on the hospital so much. Give them some breathing room. 

    They did such a good job the time before last. I have to hold that in my memory. Try to keep it fresh. I have to hold onto the good. They worked so hard. Elle was amazing. She always looked out for me. I have to remember the good eggs. There's so many good eggs. I have to remember them. But I can't rely on them too much. 

Tinking...

Still berry frustrated, but Spidey try see di lighter side...

SPIDEY DUDENT KNEAD TO PROVE ENNYTING TO DI HOSPITALS! Spidey's a berry nice arachnid. Bedder be nice to Spidey.

    I don't know what people think. I don't know exactly how they think my brain or my body works. I know I've spent a lot of time in hospitals. If institutionalization still existed, my life would be a case study. If you think I'm a carefree, party person, think again. That's not who I am. I did try. Multiple careers. Bad communication. I tend to collect jackals. The ones that feed on vigilante justice. I've learned to keep my distance.

Healthcare Werkers

    Ting about di healthcare werkers is, Spidey can help. Dey hab to let Spidey help. Udderwize, dey keep trying to step on me. Spidey leggy.

Dear Dr. Small

 

Dear Doctor Small,

    Spidey like di tulips. Berry nice. Ebbyday Spidey tink, dis will be di day! Di day dat my stwuggle is obber! ... den Spidey's back. Did Elle talk to ebbyone?? Spidey liked Kenzie. Berry nice. Dey say dis is a long-term ting. No magical fixes, dey tell Spidey. Spidey get caught up in di details. 

Hugz!

Spidey

    I think that teaching people that they are dangerous is a mistake. I'm not actually dangerous. I'm just angry and I have problems with attention and some hallucinations. I think focusing on one member of a family as "broken" and as the "troublemaker" is a mistake. Such actions feed flames. Where is the humility and forgiveness? Why do we worship at the altar of legalized drugs? 

    I think I'm getting lost trying to understand this on my own. I think I'm stuck. I think there are other people that are part of the problem. And you can't cure half a disease. But maybe someone is reading this. Someone who can cure the other parts. Or at least keep them out of my life. I'm just having trouble focusing on real life. One person can only understand so much about the healthcare system. There's too many moving parts. 

Hatred

Dear Elle,

    It's too bad you weren't there. I don't know what they have told you. I don't know what you believe. But they are filling my head with hatred and bullshit. Maybe they think I deserve it. Maybe they think they are teaching me a "lesson". I think the hospital is failing. Badly. Missing the whole damn point. 

    Hatred does not heal a person. Threats and drugs do not heal a person. Lying does not heal a person. Missing the whole damn point. I'm getting lost here. I wish you had been there. I wish I would have recognized Small but I don't think I wanted to. I did not want to be back in that hospital. Now they want me to try again. Again. This is beyond ridiculous. I used to feel safe there. And you would watch over me. Now I have trouble staying present. Fading out. I hate the fading out. I don't know what they are doing. You always had a better way.

I think threatening each other with legal action is not the way to go. Demonizing me, making me afraid of my meds, not the way to go. Shipping me to other hospitals or states, not the way to go. Fix your damn problems. Stop teaching bullshit. Then I won't have to be the one you couldn't fix. A failure on the part of the student is a failure of the teacher.

Talk some sense into them. 

Ashes

Molly says Spidey kneads less anger before he hab his black widow. Maybe she'll be a nurse. or a doctor. Or a... writer. or a teacher. Maybe a dance instructor.

Purpose

    Occasionally I need to remind myself of purpose, because experience has taught me that I cannot always rely on others to do so. I'm trying to help. Help myself. Help others. Interdependent decisions. Not destruction. Real, actual help. 

    I have to remind myself that a lot of lives were saved at that hospital. I guess it makes people sad. To see someone fall. And Angry. I can understand that. But I struggle to understand the desire to bury what happened on Woodruff road. I struggle to understand a life supporting my families when they want to demonize me when I didn't write those prescriptions. 

    I do want those records. I want to know how many times that man deliberately and recklessly ignored safety guidelines around prescriptions. If you're complaining to YOUR OWN PATIENTS that the state is coming after you for your drugs, exactly who are we helping by burying his actions? Who? Everyone but me? Really? Is it safe to let doctors bury this shit? I don't think so.

    I think I have to remind myself that I was supporting some people who were doing some good. And they say there's the memory problems and the cognitive problems. I need to be ok with ok. That's what I need to do. I just want them to observe a few days. See if the medicine that the outpatient started is doing what it needs to do. And not monkey around too much. Because we did so well the time before. 

Calm the Waters

Wind and rain and dust and flood

Hurricanes descend from above

And so an angel extends a hand

To save the last of hope and love.

Water churning in pools of denial

To cheer the empty hero

Calm the waters once again

And drop the anger down below

Where the feathers fly again across the lonely lands

I cannot find my hero now

He fled with all his plans.

When all the states hospitals and medicinemen

Cannot revive bipolar again

Where then dost thou cast the blame?

Reflect it back and find your shame.

Garbage

    I hope the hospital keeps in mind the old saying "Garbage in, Garbage out". If you teach me garbage, then you create garbage out in the community. If you give me garbage, like excessive paperwork or nicotine gum that I did not ask for and is useless to me or garbage referrals that do no good, then you create garbage in the community when I throw it out. I only need so much garbage to get rid of. 

    What I need is help with my executive skills. That's what I NEED right now. Not bullshit opinions or harassment. If they hadn't gone apeshit and made such a freaking mess of last time, maybe this time wouldn't be necessary. Anyways, the insurance went to catastrophic coverage so... there's that. I can't help others unless I can help myself. And I'm trying to help myself. I just don't think I'm getting the right support.

Volly

 

Volly, they are heading back towards Grove. I think they're feeling inpatient.

Hope

    I hope I can trust the hospital. I hope we won't get caught up in threats and garbage referrals to various places. I need to address this brain fog. I just want an opinion. The last hospitalization was a clusterfuck. I think we can do better. 

    It's just weird trying to walk a line trying to please family and community and professionals and I'm really not that important I just need to quietly address a few symptoms. Maybe we can have more open communication and not be looking at each other as if from separate defensive positions. I do hope and pray. 

    I feel like staring off into space isn't really helpful. I must be crazy for going back there. Maybe they can do like a once-a-week IOP. I just don't see myself be able to go there more than once a week. 

Friends

    I do hope that friends from Public Health and the healthcare community check this blog. I hope that they are trying, like me, to understand the effects of taking so much medication. I hope they are not letting rumors or the occasional and legal use of hemp products to distract from the mission, which is to understand what the heck has been going on with my healthcare and how to keep Greenville safe and the healthcare system cost effective. 

Werk, werk...

     What I'm finding is that Prichards' constant jiggering of the medications combined with my family's control of my mind and body was creating a lot of emotional conflict and both emotional and physical strain. It was a medication train on my mind. That's why I need to understand better how these medications have affected me. Past, present and future. Because medications have long term effects, sometimes even after stopping, and I was on so very many. I have to understand, if nothing else to keep the kids safe from this kind of Nazi like human manipulation. 

    I may have to go back to the hospital for a few days for them to observe again. They may have to tweak something. But this time it will be voluntary, and I'm going to specify in advance what's ok and not ok. Threats and lying are definitely not ok. And if I catch them lying or threatening again, I'll take that up the chain. I need honest help. I don't understand what Gullet was thinking. We barely spoke. I'm not going to work with her again. They can put me back with Arson or with the NP. Or find someone else. 

    I know Springbrook was concerned about the number and types of medications. I know CCBH never had a damn clue. But that's ok. We're moving on. I definitely need to reset after last time. Trust is hard. I know my counselor doesn't want me in these hospitals. But I have to be an independent adult and draw upon multiple perspectives and opinions to do what's best for me. I think a few days that is better planned and managed in the hospital will yield a hell of a lot more than the chaos that was March.

    Honestly, though, the last time I was at Springbrook, it was rather disorganized as well. Which is why I see no point in traveling that far for a few days of observation. I don't know exactly what I am capable of, but I'm told that W2 work is not a realistic option. Anyways, I've been having trouble with focus. The outpatient was saying brain fog. I'm not on ADHD meds anymore. Hopefully I can get a good opinion in inpatient on brain fog. Get this tweaked. 

    They offered the outpatient program, but I don't feel comfortable with driving back and forth to memorial. It freaks me out too much. It's very difficult to do that regularly. I'm worried I might have an accident. Dissociating while driving isn't that much different from driving while under the influence.

    It seems to be a bit of a war over what I put in my body. Medication or otherwise. The hospital prefers to feed me unhealthy crap I can't digest, shovel pills, and demonize everything else. I prefer natural and digestible healthy food, fewer pills, and the choice to take the vitamins and supplements without worrying about Nazis coming to jail me for taking vitamins. 

    Anyways, I'm tired of feeling like a prisoner in my body. I don't have patience anymore, and my body can't last forever this way. It would make sense if I was doing something more important. Like I was a secret agent or the President, then that kind of attention would make sense. Otherwise, it's a waste of resources. I'm not nearly so important to demand such tight control. 

    Because if this keeps up, they won't have to worry about where to bury me or which state to ship me to. I'll have to leave. Life isn't meant to be lived like that. The body and the mind can only sustain certain things. And it makes no sense to sustain this when I'm not doing anything important. If I can focus better, I can work more. That will be a start. 

    Maybe when I'm dead they'll stop demonizing me. Maybe not. Maybe I'll always be Prichard's demon. Maybe my brother will be my gaoler. In the prison of my mind. I hope not. I want to see something more positive in this world. I want to stop thinking in these terms. So maybe, if I try hard enough, life can be different. I sure hope so. My family has some truly bizarre ideas of who I am and what I need. It may or may not qualify as FDIA, but it is bizarre. QUICK, HERE'S MY SON, HE'S LOOKING AT ME FUNNY. FIX HIM!! And they insist on knowing EVERYTHING. It's truly frightening. It's no wonder I feel undercover at times.

    Hospital just habbing a tizzy fit obber Elle. I've known where she lives for years. So what? I knew where leaves was. Where molly was. So what? Thats what I don't understand. They were all right here. Big deal. 

Spidey kneads his black widow. Gedding too old for dis.

You knooooooow....

    That gives me an idea. What they need is a dating service that specializes in psychiatric nurses and mental health techs. 

    Di hospital got concerned because one night, Spidey was talking to di staff... said how much he appreciates Elle. And dey said, oh, you mean Elle *lastname*? Knot spideys fault dey gab spidey her last name. 

    Wellllll.... didn't take long. Background check. Der she was. She lives down the road. Not far. Not far at all. Dats why I knew I needed counseling. When I say she understands trauma... I'm not kidding. The background check said it all. So that's why the hospital worries. But really. I've known where she lived for years. Never went there. Had to delete. Spidey gets a liddle mixed up. Di nurses... sometimes dey understood. Sometimes knot. Leaves understood. 

    I'm not always good at talking to people, and family can be difficult. They don't get it. Not at all. They'd rather lock me up. Force medicate. Makes talking to them difficult. They totally don't get it. Not even close. I always liked mental health workers. They understand better. Usually. I guess im feeling a liddle hung up. On the tech. I don't remember her name. I can't keep going back to these hospitals. I keep getting attached to the workers. I'm worried about it. And so are they. I cant keep getting attached to nurses and techs. It becomes a problem. 

    Then last time one tried to hug me. And I said I couldn't. For that exact reason. I keep thinking about the technician. I don't really know anything about her. It's getting too complicated with these hospitals. I need to stay outside.  I'm getting too old for this. They wanted me to come back in. And what? Here i am again? I'll take technician #4? They said I was not sounding very clear. But I'm tired of the back and forth. Tired of the med carousel.  Tired of the families. Tired of the name. They're all trying to fix me. Tired of that too. 

    Ebbyday, Spidey tink, wun day Spidey pind his black widow. Spidey like di blue eyes. Nice smile. Berry nice. Spidey get a liddle wrapped up in di sweet ones. Maybe spidey like di nurses too much. But. Dey understand spidey. Dey hab seen di dark side ob tings. 

    Spidey used to get in trubble at di hospital. Said Spidey couldn't hug di nurses no more. Den he went to di udder hospital. Damn place said di same ting. Dat was apter Spidey hugged twee or phor. Dey got radder annoyed. Now dey don't like di poems needer. 

 

Spidey's back wooooo wooooooooo!

 I'm getting a little hazy. I'll have to come back to this one.

admission, p1

     It was June. Jessica had arrived at the hospital per the instructions of the psychiatrist. The sun was shining down on the campus and the parking lot was as full as always. Hospital staffers would hurry along on dedicated pathways between buildings in ones and twos. The light was faded from her eyes, but she had that spark that would not die. She hiked up her backpack of clothes and walked up the steps and under the archway towards the main unit. To the right and left, the mauve brick and brown doors of the  wings surrounded her. her footsteps and the distant sound of traffic filled her ears. To her left, the glass wall of the cafeteria came up... the outpatient office on the right, visitor's entrance on the left. And now she had reached the glass sets of double doors that was North Wing. They were expecting her, she had been told. 

    They came and let her in, the admitting nurse, a nurse by the name of Frank, a muscular man with dark skin and a tattoo. Light blue scrubs. As she entered the unit she saw many patients there. Other nurses walked around in their light blues, techs in the navies, red scrubs were... docs? I don't remember... patient observers navy blue... the nurses station had been put behind plexiglass years ago, to the right was Southwing, then to the left the hall leading to the rest of the unit. Behind the nurses station was the old children's unit, converted into IMU... Intensive management unit. The pharmacy room was ahead and to the left, a supply room to the left, and the old kitchenette area which no longer had food was ahead and to the right with a door leading to the courtyard with its tall wooden fence and cameras. All the doors with the key card locks. South wing was geriatric. The "rest of the unit" consisted of about three therapy rooms, some offices, a gym, some bathrooms, the cafeteria, the visitors area, and the old fireplace room.