Mind Your Own Business Series 4/21

So, I've been thinking more about boundaries and minding one's own business.

I used to not have the slightest understanding of boundaries. I applied rules. Simplistic ones. Then I came off Clozaril and my feelings opened up. Man. Coming off Minipress was an extremely frightening experience. Shit got epically real in all the wrong ways. Do not ever take that red pill. Don't do it. I'm telling you. Those things are highly dangerous. 

Coming off Clozaril was much different. It was like leaving the matrix and seeing reality for the first time. Both the internal reality and the external. Oh, Prichards was angry. He was no longer God. He was also afraid. He was afraid for the world to see what he had created. And then everyone was afraid. I didn't like what I saw in many cases. People didn't like that I could see.

I could see the fakeness. I could see the façades. I could see the corruption. I could see the dirt, and the ugliness. Oh they came up with all sorts of names. They brought out the big guns to shut me up and medicate me back. Oh, they pulled out every tool. So yeah, I got angry. It's not something you can forget. It's not something you should forget. It was a lesson.

Yeah, I got a lot of heat. I had been the good little soldier, taking my drugs and staying in line. Thing is, those same drugs that were my "salvation"... Clozaril "my" medication. My "gold standard". My angel in the form of a pill. The second coma? The one I went into the day that McClean released me? The one that should have killed me if the first one didn't? Well guess which med I was on at the time? The one that was supposed to save me. I was on Clozaril when I went into a coma. Well ain't that fuckin beautiful. Genius. It did a damn good job. They barely brought me back. Barely. Damn good job. Let's take more and have coma #3, why don't we?

The time I had dialysis? I was on gold standard #2. Lithium. Damn good job lithium. Sure did work. Just brilliant.

Coma #1? CDC phone call? Delirious and trying to rip wires off my body with 3-4 people holding me down? That was Depakote. Good job meds. Good job.

Thank the Shrink, I am saved. I'll thank the ICU and ER staff instead. The shrink can go fuck himself.

Community Message

Cross your fingers folks. I told my family how the community feels. They stopped talking for once. Maybe they actually heard you this time. Doctors, nurses, techs, hold your breath.

Maybe my family will go easy. I told them what you said. All the pissed off parts, pretty much. 

Easter

Today is Easter. There were periods of months that I did not know what day it was. I am closer to the ground and yet I open my eyes and the world is so far away.

I am long past the point of no return. Whoever or whatever I was, that person is long gone.

As much as MIP or people in my life would like to drag me back into what I once appeared to be, it is simply not possible. I was a drugged body with emotions laid on top of a broken mind. My life was and still is a living nightmare. The darkness was drugged into the background, and now it is an open wound. 

I am still broken. That doesn't change quickly. It doesn't change easily. You may not see it just by looking at me, but look more deeply and you will see the pieces of me. It hurts to smile. It's difficult to laugh. My memory is in disarray. Physically, I am whole. This mind is damaged. Don't try to drag me out, you won't like what you see. Don't try to fix me, it will blow up in your face. 

My head hurts every day. People use all sorts of names for me, either good ones with fake smiles or the ones that at best show little respect and at worst dehumanize. I recognize the sing song voices and the lies I once did not.

After 600 pages from one mental hospital, if you still think it is wise to play with me, then you are completely blind and deaf and there is no saving you. 600 pages!?! Even I have trouble believing it. Play with the cat. He's my better nature.

I was many things. Now I am many pieces. I can barely care for myself. Leave me alone. 2 comas. 2 comas. TWO COMAS. I do not need a 3rd.

Eventually, you'll have to truly hear something i say or stop fucking with me.

We can argue until the end of time about what I need, what i am capable of, who I am, or where I went wrong. Waste of energy. You got your own 600 pages? File them. Then stay the hell away from me.

Develop some common sense. Do not play with fire. Someone will get burnt.

Self Defense

I do not like weapons.

I bought my first self-defense weapon in 2024. I say that because it was the first time I bought a weapon with the intention to defend my person long term. 

It happened during tax season. One too many verbal assaults. There were 2 I can remember considering contacting law enforcement. A big guy that started screaming "BULLSHIT" when I tried to explain that I could not deduct certain trucker expenses due to changes in the tax law. It took multiple employees from multiple offices to talk him down.

The woman that would not stop pressuring me to base a tax return off an online estimate and started screaming.

There was a mentally ill woman who would not go away. A smooth-talking Northeasterner that would not stop contacting me. A bully who the women wouldn't work with. Yay for being male. There was one that came back, insisting on voiding a signed document that had already been processed.

I'm a fairly big guy. It's not incredibly often people try physical intimidation. But there many ways to threaten or cause harm. 

I found a way to get people's attention. It comes in a black carrying case. It is bright pink. You cannot miss it. Turn off the safety and pull the trigger. It is so very loud. The electric current is so bright it hurts your eyes. Why anyone would see a bright pink taser, especially after a warning activation, and still walk towards it is beyond me. And given that it is so loud, it will attract attention. It is not meant for stealth. It is not meant to attack. It deters. But God forbid I should ever have to use it, I would hold contact for the briefest of moments. Painful muscle spasms. Hold it too long, chance of permanent injury. People that don't take warnings seriously, I can get their attention. 

I'm not as young as I once was. I'm still fairly strong. I have words, non-verbals. I have some self-defense moves that I recall from wrestling. For the obstinate or deceptive, I have the taser. 

I'm getting tired. My mind is maybe a little less sharp and enduring. So now I keep the taser, to defend my person. For the abusive, manipulative, or power crazy, I have the ability to file reports. I have counseling. I have my writing.