Triggers

I don't remember any names from the ER. By design. I don't want to remember your names. I barely remember your faces. Some of you wore masks. I don't need to see your faces. Wear masks if you will. I only remember 3 names from the MIP visit. They mean nothing to me. I do not care who you are. That's not the point. You are not my friends. You are not my family. I do not want to remember your names.

There is one name that is hard to forget. The doctor that has been at MIP the longest. I made the mistake of learning his name. I made the mistake of learning a good bit about him. And now he and I are triggers for each other. There's almost infinite reasons for that. Some are more complex than others. Yes, I still hear your voice. Yes, I know you're there. It took me a while to understand. I am not there to see you. I never intended to end up there. I try to forget you now. Like all the rest. You are not my friends. You are not my family. You work for PRISMA. That is who you are to me. I am trying to forget. I am not trying to remember. The less I remember, the better. I do not need you to know me. I need you to forget.

Right now, no one in this county needs to know me. I am a face. You don't even need my name. I'm not here for you. What I do is not important. It is not going to harm you. You don't need to look me up. I don't need to look you up. I am simply present. I am trying to forget. That is what I need. Nothing else. Once I have forgotten... then there can be more. Don't ask for more right now. You don't want to know me right now. The comments, I can ignore. Just filter me out.

ER Coping Skills

I used a lot of coping skills in the ER, as dissociated as I was. I counted things. Lots of imagery. I visited so many places. Around SC. Around the US. Around the world. I looked at outer space. At stars. I used ocean waves. Rain. Beaches. Forests. I rode leaves down streams. Jumped frogs. Waded in creeks. Built things. Watched fireworks. I floated in water. Mostly in the ocean. I collected shells. I saw waterfalls. I played almost every song I could think of. I reviewed intellectual topics. The military is a favorite. I contemplated different ships. The F-35. International Relations. Politics a little. Different people. Famous ones. I was the wind. I was the rain. I flew. I went swimming in the ocean. I closed my eyes and I went away. My mind was busy going here and there. I remembered conversations, certain memories.  I played with animals and critters some. I felt the sheets. They gave me some sprite. I focused on the bubbles. It was actually more nature imagery then music. But I kept my mind busy in whatever way I could. Then I started to come back. I started repeating trauma memories. I mentioned a few names. Honestly, I could barely tell who I was talking to. That became a thing. The whole, cleaning staff wear this color, techs that color, nurses this color. I believe I called nurses doctors at times. I kept my mind busy in whatever way I could. I can't even remember all the things I thought about. The counting was mostly fish or sheep or cows. I did the wind through the trees. Leaves are a favorite. I ran. I was in my mind. Blue jays, robins. Anything and everything I could to keep my mind off the trauma and off what was going on. Sea critters. Whales. Dolphins. At one point I was simply picking locations in the world. New Zealand. North Carolina. I was trying not to focus too much on any one thing. So I didn't use the same places. I tried to pick somewhere different to visit, a different animal, a different non personal memory. I skipped rocks. West Virginia. I revisited stories I had heard from random people. I wiggled my toes. Moved my fingers. Sometimes tapping, others just flexing. I mostly kept my eyes closed. I breathed. Sometimes to interrupt my thoughts I used phrases. 

At home, I prefer the hydration, the stretching, the yoga, reading, mild exercise, I review the five senses in every way I can think of. Different things to touch. Temperature changes. Not so much smells as I thought I would. I keep lemon, ginger, teas, fruit, veggies, spices. 

I've been getting into new things. Rocks. The counting down from 100 by 7s. I've always liked art. I'm not good at drawing or painting, but I like seeing it. Sculpture. I like birds. Trees. The rubbery grippy socks in the hospital. I liked the rubber part.

Lately I've had Nickleback in my head. "Where do I Hide".

Sometimes it's just a ticking clock. 

Internist Followup

The blood pressure was 149/92. Repairs are underway. 

Everywhere I go, I get comments. To the store, out to eat, in the parking lot, at the library, everywhere.

Checkers keep checking. But my stomach has calmed down. I've been eating more. 

When I volunteered at crisisline, I heard many things. At times, we had to work with the police. At times, 911. All sorts of problems. On the main line. On Julie Valentine. On Safe Harbor. Some of the things I said then, I wouldn't say now. Some of the things I didn't fully understand, I understand better now. Some of the strange behavior. Some of the attitudes. The thoughts. It makes more sense. There were hospitals that threatened people with restraining orders then. They do it now too. Trauma works in weird ways. There were people that wouldn't leave other people alone no matter what. That hasn't changed. There were people who were in bad situations. Who could have left. But this was their home. They wouldn't leave. There were people that called regularly. That we knew by name. I can still remember a name or two. But that was a long time ago. Some things never change. 

You get less heat by keeping your head down. You get less heat by working with the system. But you don't get change. You stay the same. Day after day. They will always be people trying to drag you back, drag you down. Sometimes closing one's ears becomes necessary. A survival mechanism. People always talk. And yet, life does go on. They don't like the places I shop. The food I eat. The way I live. The people I associate with. There's always something to criticize. They want me gone. Or at least quiet. 

So I keep the doctors informed. At home I hydrate. I run those nutrients, meds, and the stress through my system. Day by day. I close my ears when I have to.

Hospital Staff

Everybody's got a voice right? Well, I heard a few voices in the hospital. Only these were real. From technicians to nurses to doctors to whatever their positions were. It wasn't just one or two. There was a clear message. One they wanted me to send.

That message was "fuck off".

They were quite passionate about this message. So I gotta pass it on. As a courtesy.

How do you know when you have a problem? When the hospital staff is literally instructing you on how to tell people in your life to fuck off. And I gotta respect that. Because people do get pissed off. They get pissed off when members of the community are having other members of the community moved from this center to that center to this hospital to that hospital and getting a new label every day. It does piss people off. Especially if those members of the community are trying to manage the medication of other members of the community, generate referrals out of thin air, contradict the orders of the hospital or the outpatient psychiatrist or the counselor or this person or that person. And if it keeps happening, there will be a hit list. Not mine. 

Why am I trying to walk this middle road? Because I think the centers are tired. 

Yeah people get tired. I'm trying to keep my head straight in all of this. I need fewer opinions. I need less attention. 

But no, I'm the name! You know the one. It's on the documents. I'm the yes sirs and thank yous and the pleases. That's who I am. The name. Maybe I'm the last to realize. 

And what's with all the moving standards? every day a new standard. And it's always with strings. More strings then you can count. Does the world have enough problems yet? It starts with the vague standards. Then as soon the work begins the standards change. No they'll never be met. Because they will always be different. Every second of every day.

And then it's the, but you're the mental health advocate! Or you're the mentally ill, or a drug addict! You got another new label for me? Do I need to save the world? Is it my job to go from center to center, preaching the word? But have hope! Tomorrow is a new Center! here's your commandments:

1. Thou shalt take thy medication

2. Thou shalt shut thy mouth and play along

3. Thou shalt fake being interested

4. Thou shalt maintain thy last name

5. Thou shalt remain guilty

6. Thou shalt run around

7. Thou shalt cast blame

Believe it or not, pissed off people, there's someone in your court. She's not very popular right now. But she's there. Go ahead and pass the blame along, people. You know who you are. let's all pass it around.

Does everyone have a voice? Yes. Has there been enough talking yet? I hope so. I don't like pissing people off. It's happened a time or two.

Where is the middle road in all this? Cause I'm walking a fine line here. Let's not zig zag too much.

Is any one of these people perfect? NO! Am I trying to tear people down? NO. I don't like doing that. But occasionally I have to call people out, as stubborn as they may be. 

Can we all shut up and go home yet?

I gotta let people have a voice. And those voices are getting loud. And those voices are not in my head. And I can't ignore them.

Do we have enough voices yet? Do we need a petition?

No, I don't own my home. I'm not proud of that. But where are we gonna send him next? Is there a center lining up for a fake referral? No? Then maybe there is no center for this. Maybe we can't find a hole shitty enough to bury this guy in? Call him what you like. There doesn't need to be a petition. Because some voices are real. And loud. and angry. Occasionally, I have to listen.

I don't like doing this. But some things you can't hide. Not even in shadows.