Honestly

    As much as I don't feel that i do understand whats going on, I feel safer just having reached out to my old friends and members of the mental health community to let them know that I've been in trouble. Even if they don't check the site, just knowing that they are aware that I'm struggling, makes me feel safer, every time I think about it, i feel safer... I think of them out there, calming the waters for me. It gives me a sense of peace.

Presentation

    Sometimes it all comes down to presentation.  Sometimes its not so much the circumstances around you or even what you do. It's the words you choose. The way you say them. The way you choose to smile or not smile. I try to smile. I try to put people at ease. But sometimes even that can be misinterpreted. Sometimes I think I'm missing the point(s). But I need to get sleep before morning. My life is going in strange directions.

Places to move... sweden? Too cold.... italy? Too familiar... new zealand? Theres a thought.

RULE NUMBER ONE: THOU SHALT NOT TAKE SPRAVATO! you tend to end up in ERs that way...

RULE NUMBER TWO: You do not, under any circumstances, repeat names of hospital staff in ERs... its not a pretty pretty picture... they dont like me doing it...

RULE NUMBER THREE: you don't mix humor with medical care. It tends to get misinterpreted.

My head hurts like crazy and I can't sleep. Somehow I regret several things I said and about half of what happened. Oy. I gotta stay out of hospitals. It's really not working out for anyone. I don't get it. They're supposed to help. No, nevermind that. Let's mindfuck. Splendid. Autism is not that freaking hard. Seriously. Demonstrate some compassion. I'll go to bon secours if I have another emergency. Totally not worth the misplaced loyalty.

    You know, it really is a twisted life when you have to spend the next 4 months trying to understand what the heck just happened at the ER.

World getting too complicated... not sure i understand as well as they think

 

 

Elle

 

Miss you

I'm here

Elle

 

Adore you

 

Ok, this batch of explosives goes to the hospital on the eastside.

 

Vell... I think this one is sufficiently haunted... which hospital is next on zee list?

 

Jess! No!

Elle

    I'm still not sure why I said elle's name in the er. I just started running through a list of people that knew about my past. From hr block to city center to Elle to mindful upstate to several others. They sure didn't seem to appreciate it.

I honestly don't know how I would keep going without writing. It's really the heart of me. My faith has been badly shaken since 2019-2021. The way I look at the world is so different. Theres this gnawing sense of despair. Because I did idolize prichards. It wasn't realistic. It never truly was. It's a shattered illusion of some 20+ years. There was a sense of safety that never truly recovered.

    I've heard a lot of complaining lately that the news and social media are full of negativity. Suffering is part of the human experience. Ignoring or turning a blind eye to suffering does not in fact make the suffering go away. It may help one to sleep better at night indulging in a lack of awareness, but it also allows ignorance and suffering to flourish. Awareness of suffering is necessary. It helps us to look out for our neighbors, and as we all know, love thy neighbor. 

    Life is suffering. To exist is to suffer. And no one should suffer in silence. 

    For example, that woman got run over in Las Vegas, I believe it was. I'd rather not hear of people getting run over. But if it happens, I think her suffering deserves and demands recognition, especially until the culprit is found. 

Volly

All's vell that ends vell, Volly. You don't mind if I lay some droppings over the hospital campus, no?

    If the hospital can't recognize autism, can't recognize trauma, then God help them because I surely can't.  If they can manage to screw up a hospital stay that badly, then God help them because I surely can't. Because if they wanna go legal, bring it on. We can all lawyer up and argue all day. But me, I have to let things go. Because I took the Spravato, knowing there were risks, and yeah, I contacted the nurse. They need to cool their jets, though. Count to ten and stop making stupid ASS out of U And Me PTIONS. That's dangerous. 

    LEARN SOMETHING ABOUT FREAKING TRAUMA AND AUTISM. IT'S YOUR DAMN JOBS. There's your feedback survey. Otherwise, we're not helping anyone. It's not like autism is that uncommon. And we know more than we did in the 90s. Anyways, some things are best handled in an outpatient setting. Elle understood. Leaves understood. Some of y'all could try a hell of a lot harder though.

    Anyways. World's got better things to do then waste time on a bunch of people that somehow can't add two plus two. Never mind ADHD, its not even that bad. Just be glad my autism isn't as bad as the kids at Springbrook. They can't even take care of themselves. I can still have a life. 

    Delusional? Sometimes. Angry? Not infrequently. Drug addict? Bullshit. If hadn't been for the mistake with Elle, y'all wouldn't have a leg to stand on. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a thriller to go write about blowing up hospitals. You done pissed me off.

    I think the hospital is more then a little bit misguided. Making assumptions, passing out blame and encouraging rumors isn't exactly the effective practice of medicine. It's borderline malpractice. 

What they could do instead is ascertain all the accurate facts, keep non-essential information limited, and coordinate care.

Clozaluiah!

     The problem with putting doctors at the pinnacle of an idealized medical thinking is that it encourages idolatry and a system of unequal persons and unrealistic expectations and interpretations. If the doctor is God and the nurses are disciples, then the patients are the ignorant damned who will and must obey without question. This perverse mindset promotes the idea that medications are the answer and that everything comes down to a substance or a system of regimented thought and it crushes independent thought and individual initiative, which THC became helpful as a means to unregiment and desystemize my thinking, to help me to break the rigid ideas where I was broken and the doctor was the messiah with drugs as his messengers. 

What Bipolar and DID have in common

    Bipolar and DID both involve a disconnection from reality. I've seen psychosis in action, and the ideas that come out are generally very far from reality. With Bipolar, you see such an incredibly inflated sense of importance, whereas with DID there is, in my experience, a great deal of agony and very little sense of importance. Someone with bipolar can feel very important and powerful, whereas with DID it is more like the invisible man. One is an ego out of control, the other is a wounded ego. 

 I've decided to diverge from my usual writing style to try my hand at thriller writing. So, I'm working with the story called "The Messenger". It's centered around a fantasy i had.

The Messenger - Crafting

    The message was heavy. He had crafted it for hours... days... weeks. He wanted them to know the truth. He wanted it written loud. he constructed his letters with ammonium nitrate, accented his words with a few blocks of Trinitrotoluene. he wrapped them in velcro around a surplus bulletproof vest, all connected to a homemade deadman's switch. He caringly altered surplus body armor onto a custom body suit, enabling him to move naturally but with added protection underneath a workman's uniform. he weaved hidden pockets into the seams of the shirt and pants, laboring for hours and then days with only determination and dedication as his fuel. He even got a part time job playing the part, working on his demeanor and body language along with some slang and work speak. He changed the company he kept, all to play the role to deliver his message safe and sound.

 Spidey learns. When I got off clozapine, my perception changed. It skewed my judgement for a while. But I've seen a lot of improvement. I'm healing.