Lookit

    Until I get this sorted out, there's not much I CAN do. I hope to contribute more meaningfully when my head is straight. I can barely find anything because my mind goes different directions. I'M COMING BACK! My providers and I got frustrated. I like my home. I'd like to keep it. I need someone in my life. I'm getting too old for this. That said, I'd like to thank my team and my sister's family. Hopefully we can stay out of the blame game. The threats game. Beyond ridiculous to feel the need to pull in FBI and public health. I can be a really cool guy. Just too many directions. I'm consolidating. Time to make up for, black widows to flirt with.

The Whatever

     I've been very frustrated with the whatever. Some people call it memory problems. Some called it PTSD. Some called it DID. Some insist on Bipolar. Going in too many directions under the influence of too many medications and professionals was definitely part of the problem.

Oh crap...

    Oh crap... he's becoming aware... oh crap... he's not with the program. QUICK, MEDICATE! Shit, that didn't work! Moralize! Demonize! Activate the checkers! Go down the center list! Find another doctor! No that one quit... let's get creative... *sigh*

    Twisted humor aside, I need to continue to work on anger and increasing my functioning. Which means reconnecting memory and processing. So, everyone can expect to see very little of me for quite some time. 

Not sides...

    Then she says there's not sides... I got a half dozen hospitals and several dozen professionals in my head and she says there's not sides... $*%*