Show Time

I've been thinking about Monday. Gotta hot date. This one's a looker, folks. Oh he likes my sense of humor. What should I talk about? So much on my mind... he learned my name pretty fast. We're going to a nice place. It's bright and well kept. I bet they love analogies. He likes it when I talk legal. It turns him on. He knows all my friends. I bet they are good with names. First names, last names, code names. We can play spy movie! Or clue!

It was Doctor So and so with the xanax! It was professor XYZ with the roaming eyes! Oh dating is so much fun. This one has good nails. Physically fit. We can talk psychology!

Extinction! Reflection! Validation! Annnnnd I feel so aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive! Word play! And it feels so goooood!

Orange you glad you met me? I peel better these days. I've learned so much. Tell me about your father? 

I like my coffee with vanilla. We'll talk about the future. building bridges.

Yep, the talkers got me all set. To talk with someone else. 

On a side note, I've been thinking about the community and my concerns about boundaries. I'm very much hoping that anyone that has any sense who has worked with me professionally as a healthcare practitioner, particularly those with the power to prescribe, is taking their vacation days and rethinking their life a little. Maybe I shouldn't have worked with XYZ? Maybe I should have followed this law or that law? Maybe I should take an ethics refresher. Maybe I don't want DEA attention anymore. Maybe when this guy got flagged for Social Determinates of Health, maybe I popped up on one of those radars. Maybe I should think about retirement. Enjoying life. Maybe ECT is risky. Maybe rTMS should be used with caution. There's so many maybes. Hopefully before the governor talks to me. You know, before people start making threats of legal action. Before 600 pages of documents are secured from this hospital, before another hospital gets too much attention, before that hospital stops taking my patients, before people are buying guns... There's so much to think about... Maybe I shouldn't threaten people for holding others accountable? Maybe if someone is related to me, I shouldn't try to fuck with their healthcare? oh so many maybes... Maybe I should think for a while... Maybe my family needs me... Maybe having my name in the paper, my picture on a wall, or ridiculous amounts of money is bad. Maybe promoting prescription drugs, especially off label, is the wrong kind of attention... Yes, perhaps I should go home and rethink my life... shut my trap now and then... maybe people don't always need to know what I think? maybe it stirs up resentment, rather than jealousy. Maybe I like keeping my job and I should do it properly, within boundaries, and shut the fuck up? Naw... well... let's think about that... There's always church... but then, my uncle was a priest and that didn't work out so well. There's plenty of churches around...

Dangers of Psychiatry

Mental health requires a gentle touch. Some people should not work in mental health. some people do not understand boundaries. They think they are Gods. Then people get hurt.

Talking too much is a one way. Scribing too freely is a surefire way. Both at the same time? Recipe for disaster.

This is why some practitioners hate me right now. this is why they can't wait to shut me up. Because they know that I know their mistakes. I am their mistakes.

And the results? A mychart a mile long. Word salad. 

It was a long time ago. They were all partners. There weren't proper boundaries. There were some good intentions. But when the abusers know the providers and the providers know each other and the medication and diagnoses start flying too freely... by the time you're shipped off to McClean, it's a little late. by the time of the first coma, it's a little late.

Birds of a feather... the victims together...

Birds of a feather... psychiatrists together...

Birds of a feather... abusers together...

Birds of a feather... I've known many people. plenty of good ones.

Building a map of a mind takes humility. Not the Psychiatrists specialty. They need to cut down their egos a bit. Take their pictures off tv. take their photos off walls. Take their names out of the papers.

Go ahead, blame the patients. Go ahead, blame the social workers, Go ahead, blame the counselors. Blame side effects. Blame everyone but yourselves. Don't take vacations. Don't rotate out. Don't respect HIPPA. become partners and become too close. Refuse to retire. Go ahead. Take the insurance money, pass the pills and the blame around.

The PA is not one of you. So sorry. Now kindly go fuck yourselves. Yall need to retire. I'm counting the days. You can count the words. 

Am I afraid? Yes. Do I know how to fix it? no. Do I want to protect the community if no one else? Yes.

Guilty conscience... I know things, ya see... I just don't know how it works out. But I'm finding out. One day at a time. This is the mind you built. Maybe you just like yourselves too much.

Stages

My sense of humor is getting misplaced. Too much projection. Too much anger. Too little sleep. Details become clearer. Maybe the counseling is working. Now I find the stages. Ten stages. 

1. Suspicion 

2. Discovery 

3. Chaos 

4. Grieving 

5. Learning 

6. Reaching out 

7. Dependence 

8. Acceptance 

9. Resolution 

10. Moving on

Reasons

I keep going down this road. I don't know where it's going. They've been saying I was a lost cause for decades. Decades. Decades. 

13 years old. I was already running. Never really stopped. But I'm still here.  There must be a reason.