Mind Your Own Business Series 4/21 p2

Anyways. So, meds are not the ultimate solution

Diagnoses are not the ultimate solution.

Genetics and chemicals? Well, I'm gonna go back to the nature vs nuture.

All of these disorders? Well people like to look for answers or find causes or demons.

Some people jump to look at their genes... others find a chemical or food or an environmental factor such as electronic devices or the weather...

History plays a role, in combination with the rest. I do not doubt that any of the disorders are not "real". They are complex. Autism, ADHD, Depression of whatever type, and Dissociation.

The thing I noticed about Covid was how psychological it became. People did die. I tested positive at one point. For me it was like a mild flu. But I saw people thinking they had it when they didn't, time after time. The thing that lasted was that autism spectrum seemed to become more widely known. I had to think about that. 

ADHD... I've seen so often, parents of kids with ADHD, they get focused on the diagnosis whether they medicate or not, and it becomes an animal of its own. When there's so much to the relationship and the person. And then people don't see the social factors that are playing into the diagnosis. They don't see the nurture side of the causes and what drives it. The medications that are used most commonly? Methamphetamines, a close cousin of amphetamines. One of the earliest uses of amphetamines? Hitler gave his soldiers amphetamines at the outset of world war II to make them stronger and more energetic/fanatical. The result? Some of the worst atrocities mankind has ever known. These drugs, they crystalize the thought... but there are environmental factors. Eating a healthy diet. Getting enough sleep. Positive emotional relationships. The absence of head trauma, both physical and psychological. You have two kids and one has an LD? Maybe it's not the kid. Maybe it's not pure genetics. Maybe it's more complicated then that. Maybe, just maybe, you had a genetic predisposition, and the social and environmental factors did the rest. There will always be the weak and the strong. Both mentally and physically. Head trauma can cause all sorts of LDs. Head trauma isn't just physical trauma. It's psychological trauma. Accidents. Abuse. Neglect. Not that anyone needs to beat themselves up. It just means that it's not random, it's not just genes, and it's not just drugs.

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.