Music Therapy

People wonder why I need music. It's because I know things. In Greenville County. In Belmont, MA. A few small repairs.

My Own Prison

Cumbersome

I believe

Little Talks

What's Going On?

Just For

What's this Life For

Zombie

You Oughta Know

Eulogy

Sober Pink, Tool

Only Happy When it Rains

Valjean Arrested/Valjean Forgiven

Everything I Own

Who Knew

Whatya ya want from me

BOSTON

Hey Jealousy

Fast Car

Just Give me a Reason

Release Me

Yesterday

Counting on You.

I can't do this alone. I need support. Help me stop overmedicalization and toxic stereotypes. Slow down the med train!

I am not actually trying to change the whole world. I am trying to keep as many people as possible safe from DSMization, medicalized perfectionism, and toxic stereotypes as I can. I do not actually work in Psychology or IT or Healthcare. I do taxes when I can. I write when I can. I'm too old and too tired to keep this up. I can't divide myself among professionals or professions or interest groups. I need people speaking up. Saying that some shit doesn't fly. So, I'm just waiting on you guys. To start saying something. Stop the bullshit. Otherwise it never ends. ASHES AND DUST NEEDS YOU! To say "no" to doctors. Too tired for this shit. 

Doctors and Bipolar Bullshit

So, there's really no reason for anyone to be afraid, unless they have MD or PhD after their name. Because I'm pretty damn sure that there's plenty of South Carolina doctors who are sick of this Bipolar Bullshit. So long as people leave me be, and I am just a normal person in the state of South Carolina, there's no trouble here. But I would hope that people are taking my advice. Retiring or taking vacation days. Rethinking life choices. Rethinking DSM mania. Rethinking Bipolarization. Keeping insurance and recording legal contingencies. Shopping for defense attorneys. There's a few people who have a bone to pick. Interstate clusterfuck. Maybe I shouldn't have lied about the drugs. Maybe I shouldn't have lied about the coverup. That kinda thing. I have no idea why Malacheck is dead. Neither do the authorities. Some people are still alive. They need to rethink their life choices while they still can. Or it never ends. Until I'm dead and buried. Then other people can take legal action for me. I just don't see how this is OK. This is a country of laws. There are many. They are not optional. 

Do not go back to that Gentle Table...

Rage, Rage, against the submission to the overlords. 

Maybe not all of South Carolina needs protection from toxic masculinity. Maybe it really is just me. But the end of bipolar and this medicalized perfection shit doesn't have to be ugly. I have to take George's advice. Bipolar dies when I let it die. It stops haunting me when I let it go. Clozaril stops being "my medicine" when I make it obvious that it's not necessary. I do have a few lawsuits to file. But that needs to wait. Because I'm one person. And the state of South Carolina and the FDA have a lot on their plate. And Clozaril is out of date. It's not used much anymore. It's long out of patent. So, doctors just need to be intelligent, use other options. I'll just have to trust that the doctors of South Carolina find their wisdom and their humanity and stop treating people like science experiments. Then they won't have to sue anyone. Their health can be just fine. But we got here together. I was taught this bullshit as a minor. Now I have a few small repairs. I need people to back off Angry, while Angry changes a few legal names and etc. I'll have to visit my Social Security friends... oh they just loooooooooove me... But let's not be stupid. I don't want to have to file reports. A few small repairs. Then I can be kind and less delusional. After the Bullshit stops, we can all sit down.