Right to Decline

     I think there's a point that you reach between enough medical and too much medical. Sometimes that point isn't all together clear. I have to evaluate on a decision-by-decision basis, just like anyone else. I've reached that point a few times. I reached it with Prichards and Clozapine. I reached it with CCBH and Clozapine. I reached it with the Hospital/Center run around. I reached it when talk of jail and restraining orders came up. I reached it. I'm happy to continue counseling and the medication I do have. I'm happy to take a step back. I'm happy to give the hospitals a break. I hope that anyone who reads this can understand the reasons why.

Internalized Pain

Watchful eyes make darkened skies all the brighter still

In the stars we find our guides and follow them until

The sun comes up and we come to see the light falling once again

So parts the pain and heals the insane until it fully ends.

A gentle hand helps the broken mend and stills the aching heart

A steady guide brings hope and pride to its shattered parts

And looking up the clear skies come to rescue us until

We're strong again and stand as one to climb another hill.

    I'm building trust and learning about choosing words. Which words for the right times. What strength looks like. What money can and can't do. I would have been a priest, I'm too curious about the world. Maybe that is my undoing. There have been times when I should have spoken up but didn't. There were times I simply wasn't heard. I'm trying to choose companions wisely and communicate clearly. I have to take the world seriously, because it is a serious place. Serious things can happen. 

    I was always quiet. I'm trying to get louder. Looking for a job. Cutting expenses. Working on fiction and art but coming up with mostly poetry and AI art. 

Apologies

     I am not sorry for following the orders of Prichards on THC. That was not my mistake to make. That was the doctor's. I am not sorry for following Artstick's orders on Spravato, that was her mistake to make. I am sorry for not communicating better. I am sorry for spending beyond my means. Those two things I can be sorry for. Those two things alone. 

    I am not sorry for the small-minded ignorance and hatred of the inpatient population. I am not sorry that my family and some people cannot understand autism spectrum or trauma. I am not sorry for these things. 

    I am sorry for contacting the nurse. I am not sorry for cutting off people who were being unhelpful. 

    I regret the misunderstanding and chaos that has followed me from this hospital to that center to the other hospital. I regret that some people have the inability to recognize a good person for they are missing out. I regret the loose mouths and the hateful ignorance. 

    I reiterate my gratitude to SCDHEC (or whatever it's called now), to the ethical nurses and doctors (the ones that understand boundaries), to Gryphs, Leaves, Molly, and "my women"... To Lost and Rigged... to all the good eggs. Wrong and right work both ways. I hope to be able to contribute more, since that seems to invariably be what the world wants... but only the best of me, since that is what it insists on. I hope to keep my peace and earn my keep... to communicate better, so that I might avoid the misunderstandings of the past. Hospitals can be dangerous places. I've seen dangerous things happen in them. I've seen times when dangerous things could have happened but did not. My health seems fragile enough and the medications unreliable enough that I fear trying to get off disability. But I have some job applications in and I continue to look for part time work suitable to my bizarre arrangement of skills.

    This gets much more traumatic, I might just have to apply to graduate school and become a trauma counselor myself. In the end, trauma is a matter of perception. I've had every concept of myself challenged and again. I've gone without emotional comfort. I've been through various medical symptoms. I've had extreme moments of dysregulation and confusion. I'm tired of it. To the ignorant, I am sorry you are not able to understand these things. I suppose I could have said more. I didn't realize it was necessary. There was a lot of not hearing going on. I would really like to mind my own business now. 

    I'll always remember the good eggs. If I can do right by them, that's good enough for me. We know more now about autism and trauma then we did in the 90s, so let's apply that knowledge. Me, I'll try to watch what I say and get more done at home where I can keep a safe distance most of the time. 

Loyalty

    Loyalty means sticking it out when times are tough. Loyalty means having the courage to point out other people's mistakes or misjudgments in tactful ways to help them do better, not blindly aiding them to commit errors. Loyalty is not blind obedience. Loyalty means being loyal to what a person stands for, not necessarily what they do. Standing by them while calling them out is more loyal than helping a person to make mistakes. 

        Being firm about boundaries is actually a service to another person, even if they cannot see that. When they realize they were wrong, they will be grateful if they are worth keeping. If they never realize they were wrong, or don't have the ability to forgive a misunderstanding, then they were never worth keeping.

    A wise man makes decisions based on facts, not a lack of information. Thus, a wise man sometimes must consider that he doesn't know all the facts, and therefore a wise man makes decisions based on the facts he does not know but can infer from situational factors. Further, a wise man does not speak when he does not know all the facts. 

    Even the most educated man can act the fool. All it takes is some misplaced assumptions and the heat of passion, or simply a lack of good judgement. I have known many educated men to do many foolish things and say many foolish things, despite having very high placed degrees. Having letters after your name does not make you invincible.

Restraint and Humility

    I think Restraint and Humility go hand in hand. I think strength without good judgement is worthless. Restraint means being able to do something but choosing not to do it. It is easy to hurt someone. It takes restraint and humility to hold back the words or the hand that does the actual harm. It takes humility to recognize that harm is not wise. Maybe only a fool would have walked back into that emergency room. A small man might have said something ugly to Dr. Darcy when he had the chance. Or even been violent. I feel like I exercised restraint and humility. It takes a bigger person to turn away from the past. It takes a bigger person to forgive. I did not feel like that first ER visit was handled well. I called that ambulance for a reason. The Spravato did not check my vitals before releasing me. My heart rate surged. Cold and clammy. I justifiably thought I might be dying. Weak and faint. I called for a reason. It was just nice to see a different response this time. 

Biblical Meaning

Today, I'm focusing on cleaning and exercise, writing, and some light accounting research. I need to stay focused. 

I like doctors and nurses because they are educated and they focus on helping people. I think aripiprizole helps maintain calm. I think Bipolar is at best an oversimplification and clozapine is out of date. I think if a man is disabled, that necessitates a change to relationship dynamics. How can the man be disabled and still be the breadwinner? It makes no sense. Not in today's world where couples struggle to survive on one full income. Rigid rules of gender Conformity make less and less sense in a modern society and yet some people still cling to them like whites clung to slavery long after it stopped having even the veneer of sense to it. Modern society requires flexibility. It requires seeing beyond stereotypes. In an age of AI, it makes zero sense to me to cling to stereotypes promoted by out of date concepts. You can still have faith and God but at the same time see that the Bible was written thousands of years ago in a much different time by much less educated men with much less technology. God did not create life to remain static and unchanging. Life is by definition changing. Otherwise it is not life. One can still remain true to God and to faith and be open to growing and changing. I believe that was God's intention and that love thy neighbor means exactly that. It doesnt mean love thy neighbor UNLESS. It doesnt mean love love thy neighbor UNTIL. It means love thy neighbor. Love thy neighbor if they are white, black, orange, purple. Love thy neighbor male, female, autistic, disabled, whatever. If the Bible was meant to be a rigid cross checked formula for exactly how to live life, then Im sure God would have made a commandment, crosscheck the passages to find hidden meanings behind my words to nullify the exact meaning of what I say. Read into what I say until my words become meaningless. He did not say that. Why would he say that? It is a desperate man who clings to hidden interpretations of the Bible. It is a desperate man who uses hidden interpretations of the Bible to justify hatred and bigotry.

My first impressionist painting is sunlight peeking through wisps of dark clouds. 

 

The Wash

 

A washing we shall go, a washing we shall go, high ho the dario a washing we shall go!

I just feel like it's reasonable to take a step back, try to find some serenity after treating my body like a human science experiment for so many years... going from this patented drug to that one, this machine to the other to the implant. I feel like its reasonable to step back. Give the doctors a break. Let them focus on someone they can fix. That's what I want to do. I've been pushing them hard, and for what? I'm not even that important. These drugs have problems, like clozastill. 

     Thing is, as much as I didn't like Dr. Darcy the first time, the second time she was kinda nice, and I didn't want to rock the boat on that. 

 

    Maybe I thought my emotions would make my situation obvious. But I suppose maybe that's expecting too much. People are blind to what they do not want to see. I need to be quiet for a while.

     So many points in my life where it seems like I'm in a conversation with someone in which we are talking at each other and not TO each other. I almost get used to it. With my counselor, I can be myself and speak the truth and she gets it, and that's a beautiful thing. At MIP, it was the complete opposite. It seemed like a twisted game of choose the wrong words. Say what you don't mean, so that it can flow more easily. Like every conversation was multiple choice, but some whack job was picking the answers. If I hadn't been so out of it, maybe I would have picked my own. Hospitals can be dangerous places, for sure. 

Flat affect vs blunted affect vs shock versus full range of emotions.

Flat affect is an almost lack of emotional response. No emotional reaction, positive or negative. Like being stunned. That was me in the ER.

Blunted Affect means a reduced range of emotional response. So, less extreme than a flat affect. 

Shock means very intense emotions.

Full range of emotion is a normal emotional style. I feel like I don't experience this much. 

    The head doctor in the ER was one of those quiet, contemplative ones. Seemed like a smart man. Sometimes I confused which ER doctor was the resident and which was the attending doctor, but the head doctor was easy to differentiate. I guess I feel like I need to understand. To wrap my head around all of this medical. I read most of the notes and records, not to look for errors or even for explanations but just to understand the way they think. He called it flat affect... a lack of emotional expression. I'd say that I was afraid and feeling somewhat dissociated standing in that ER again. I didn't know what they were going to do. I just knew that my head wasn't right without the pristiq. I needed that medicine. And I got it. Thank God. I don't say much in person. It just seems like there's so many things I could say. So many things left completely unsaid. Like with Dr. Darcy. It was somewhat surreal. "I remember you" "Yeah, I took care of you"... I think we said a few other things. Repeating what I had said to the resident.

    I feel like the only answer to this insanity is stepping back. Just like I told CCBH. I swear the worksheets showed zero understanding of the problem. And where was the listening? Where was the empathy? I been chasing meds as if they are the answer. Some of them I need, yes. memorial seemed like family. I have to be grateful for the medicine, because it helps with some things. But the indoctrination seems soulless. And they wonder why I act paranoid. You think this is going well? Not actually. 

    I feel like I have to write about it. Because no one is listening. They say they are and then they turn their ears off. And then they wonder why I need counseling. No, we're the almighty doctors who know everything. Forgive me for being jaded. But there's a lack of humility in medicine. There most definitely is. A belief that medicine can do more than it actually can. Maybe I am just the disabled guy. Maybe I am the guy on the sidelines criticizing the man in the arena. But I think some criticism is necessary. I need to say something before it's over. Something other than repeating the medical bullshit they feed me. There's a lack of humility, a lack of common sense. Doctors without Boundaries, they should call it. It's too fast paced and inhuman for me. I need to communicate better. I should have realized I couldn't just play along. It's not working out. I'm looking for answers in all the wrong places. Barking up the wrong trees. I need to step back. I can still walk and talk. I should take that as a win. 

    There is one person who defends me more than anyone else. She sees that I can be very kind, smart, funny, considerate, patient, persistent, and strong. I don't understand this world. It runs over people. Chews them up and spits them out. It's very strange to me to threaten someone who showing up at a hospital for help. Very strange. Maybe I have a simple mind. I don't understand the system; I don't understand the doctors. Maybe I should have been a farmer. Technology truly is fascinating, but so inhuman. 

    Then there's the run of the mill insults that we throw at each other on a daily basis. Too slow, too fat, too messy, too short... why do we have to make the world awful? Am I just now waking up to reality? Hospitals are strange places. You take a bunch of people who are not doing well, and you put them together, what exactly do you expect to happen? We'll all just kumbaya right there in the ward? We'll drug it up and play cards and sit in classes and then go out into the world with issues and damage and everything will be just fine? I need some peace. 

    I've been too much time in hospitals. It's almost easier to be the worker in one sense: at least you can do something useful. Patients aren't even allowed to help. It's kind of a silly rule. I think allowing patients to help with the cleaning and the other tasks actually encourages that sense of community that felt more present at Springbrook that first time. 

    I hope to encourage others and get one of these jobs. I'm tired of feeling useless. That last hospitalization was extremely confusing for me. It was like, slap on label one and go here and drug it up and let's all indulge in our worst insults and the grossness of humanity together until we all hate each other and then let's slap on label 2 and ship out to the next center or hospital as if it makes any sense or accomplishes anything at all. Where is the humanity? Am I a person or a defective widget?

    I think the humanity was lost a long time ago for me. Those ECTs are a humdinger. I feel more like a machine then a person, and technically I'm a cyborg, I have an implant. Such a strange world. I don't see the humanity. Whatever is wrong with my head... it's like a medical pinball machine. I'm telling you; it's been almost 4 months since discharge... I have never had such a horrific setback. CCBH, it made sense in a way. They didn't know me. MIP knew me. That's what makes it strange. And Elle was my defender. Now that's been poisoned. I'm sorry, but my head is spinning from the med changes, the lies, the misunderstandings, and all the chaos of it. Never mind having a say in my own healthcare. Never mind that it has improved with space and boundaries. Let's do a hostile takeover. I don't get it. And then they wonder why I talk about trust issues and anger. They want to call me paranoid. Really? paranoid? It's worked out that great so far. Bullcrap. I don't get it. 

    I can't do more of the back and forth. I can't do more of the labeling and the centers. It makes no sense. None whatsoever. Every now and then you find someone who truly listens. If I have advice, it's to hold onto the listeners. Keep them. Don't let them go. Otherwise, you'll be from this hospital to that hospital to this center to that center with people looking up your rear and wondering what the hell is going on in this world. Ugly places. Ugly. Maybe not physically violent, but verbally violent, emotionally violent, medically violent. Sometimes I wonder why I hold back. 

    They say time heals all wounds. I think distance heals all wounds. Time alone doesn't do anything. Space is required. That's the only way to heal. I really don't like going near memorial. You can laugh it up, but I don't like going anywhere near that place. I don't think it's the people themselves. It's the fast pace, getting lost in the system. If I hadn't shown up to the ER on a Sunday morning, who knows? They actually had time to talk to me. It almost seems like the height of stupidity to go anywhere near that place. Confusing beyond imagining. Four months later and I'm still wrapping my head around it. I was miseducated on medications and hospitals. This is insanity. These places freak me the hell out. I really don't think there's anything paranoid about that. Communication has been terrible.

    I'm trying to step back and find some peace and centeredness. Which is what I was looking for at CCBH. It seemed to make them angry that I wanted peace. I'm not sure why. Maybe they thought it was a metaphor for suicide. I just don't want to fight people anymore. I don't see the point of so much conflict and lies and bullshit around mental health. I don't. It makes no sense. But I'm finding my peace in my own space, on my own time. It's just lonely. And I need money. So, I must sharpen my resolve and my focus. Standing alone is difficult. Something seems off about my perception. How am I this tired?

 

🫂 🫂  Smally 🫂 🫂 

Wierd Ideas part VI: Fear and Empathy

I remember the last thing I thought that night. I wanted her to know how I felt. I wanted to see my emotion on her face. 

That emotion was an intense fear, with some sorrow and anger. I wanted her to understand. I wanted her to be afraid too. I wasn't sure how to make her understand. In the end I decided I didn't want her to see.

cleanup on ward 2! Ashes is back!

Reflections

Your eyes looking back at me tell me everything you see

Your eyes tell me where I've been and the person I can't be

Your eyes tell me so much more then I could ever say

Your eyes come to me in dreams and then they run away.

My hopes float upon the wind like a gentle feather

They rise with every victory and sink with stormy weather

They fly so high when I am free of all my doubts and cares

They come to me to lift my goals with challenges and dares

My wisdom finds the meeting 'tween my goals and all my acts

My passions rising in the storm forever wane and wax

Until I find my soul's true counter forever will I roam

And if I never find her, I will find my way alone. 

Project #Next

I need to work on my drawing skills so that I can create consistent images of Sarah, Jess, and the others. Otherwise the AI makes them look different every time. And im wasting my life trying to be something I am not. I am a writer. Accounting is not very realistic. My health is too unstable. Accountec has done nothing but lose money. I've got to publish more writing. 

I know there are people in this world who do not want to believe in autism or to deal with it, but I have no choice. I have to face the truth that memorial medical and people in my life don't want to face: that I have autism, not bipolar, I have a trauma disorder resulting from years of medical mismanagement and misdiagnosis. I have been medicated out the wazzoo, and become a running joke because my body is like a science experiment.  And they'll believe anything but the truth, so help them God. So I take a few steps back. And I keep a safe distance from the bipolarizers and the doctors without boundaries. The God complexes. And I try to reduce expenses and adjust to my reality. The reality that the medication has caused me harm. A great deal of it.