Almost every time I talk to a non-professional who knew the medicated me I get the distinct impression that people want me to shut the hell up and medicate. Such desires have side effects. Insisting on seeing someone through a lens of medicated perfection is a distortion of reality. I get it. I kinda liked the old me. But that's how I got here. Medically complex, permanently disabled unless I learn to deal with emotions differently (near as an honest professional will tell me), unable to maintain relationships... unable to maintain jobs... a medicated perfectionism. Oh, you'll be damn strong... miserable, and unstable. You have to deal with the emotions and set boundaries, or you'll drown in pills and anger and there will be no help for you on this earth. So I strongly advise anyone who knew the old me to avoid contact unless I contact you. Oh I'm full of ideas, you made me that way... not all of them are good ones... the local hospitals and I are engaged in some learning... leave it be. Or people as far off as Singapore just might understand the dangers of overprescription and poor boundaries. I like this state. I like it quiet, safe, peaceful. I'm planning to keep it that way... but I need to work with these hospitals, improve my health and hopefully keep them from endangering the population. I especially want to discourage medical professionals yet again from contacting me directly, indirectly, or by soothsayer unless they are on a treatment team... that would be extremely poor judgment.
Awareness
I'm seeing good signs... the hypersensitivity seems slightly less. My body feels more present. I feel more aware of people around me. Slightly less lost in my mind.
The depression seems milder. The energy a little low but more consistent. The anxiety and anger still seem a little high. Blood pressure still elevated. Heart feels a little wierd with periodic mild chest pain. Allergies... less congestion, more airway constriction, especially in the sinuses. Hands and feet are sensitive. Joints pop a lot. Forehead, gums and face have pain at times. Forehead is changing a little. I can only imagine that the neural networks in the prefrontal cortex are adapting. Some of the bizarre thoughts have faded with some of the more unpredictable physical sensations. Though I think avoiding certain memories and people is still wise. Chronic inflammation from over medicalization, numbedness, lack of processing. I'm rinsing with warm salt water. Some exercise, and continued nutrition and routine... maybe the hospital and I can avoid direct legal action... hopefully avoid threatening each other... seeing as this name is still on a building of thiers... seems rather ugly. Perhaps cooler heads can prevail. Keep people safe, but without excessive force. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Maybe some of those doctors had good ones, but they need to be careful. They need to maintain independence. Proper boundaries.
The First Time
She was magnificent. I rode her like a stallion. Oh, the creases, the curves! The way the sheets felt right out of the supply room! The long metal legs! I - damn there goes the BP monitor again... I'm waking up...
BOLTING UPRIGHT. 3-4 PEOPLE HOLDING ME DOWN... RIPPING WIRES OFF OF AND OUT OF MY BODY... THE MONITORS GOING CRAZY...
oh yes, my love, that Hypoallergenic pillowcase looks good on you... where was I? Drifting back into my coma, I think... oh don't worry about the medical staff... they've seen delirium before...
Hospital Staff & Relationships
When you have health problems, relationships can become a challenge.
Perhaps the staff at Memorial has misunderstood. Desperation is a dangerous ingredient to the mind. You've known me, for better or for worse, for decades. You brought me out of a coma. You kept me alive. It's the workers on the ground that I appreciate the most. The low-level ones. I did not come there to learn names. I know you well enough. That's the whole damn point.
Someone keeps you alive, you tend to remember. It's been a long time since that first coma. 17 years old. 26 years ago. You knew me even before then. Some of you have been there the whole time and are getting ready to retire. So I wrote you the poem. Safe Harbor
Anyways, I mis-learned a bit. That's why I don't want the pills anymore. Just the bare minimum.
Family doesn't like to remember these things. Big surprise.
But hospitals built me up. Not just one of you.
I just have an issue with misprescribing dinosauric diagnosis addicted docs who lack proper independence.
Notes to Selves
2 Do not return to MIP
3 Do not file reports before checking with Team
2 Do not talk to family
5 Do not think about law
5 Do not speak to or contemplate MIP
7 do not contemplate prescription medications
6 Stay home
5 Do not contemplate the general community
4 Dot not misplace anger
4 be careful with the sense of humor
1 Keep noise down
5 Do not get creative with dealing with the past
4 Do not try to help people atm
5 do not worry if internet connection comes in and out
5 if password reset links randomly show up, contemplate the positives and negatives of filing reports or saying weird things.
4 Mind my own business
That said, a thank you to my team for listening. I'll be quiet now. This is waaaaay too much like "The Departed"... from numb to very aware. No longer care. Not my business. I am not a federal agent. I am not undercover. I am minding my own business. Now I'm retired from medicine AND law enforcement. What else can I retire from?
I'd like to remind everyone to be aware that my hearing is excellent. Maybe Going deaf is a good idea...
This was so much more interesting at a theoretical level. I'm going to think about my life choices, take some vacation.
A note to charities: Please don't call. I don't actually have any money. I appreciate what you do, really, but I am literally broke and I'd rather spend the money tipping the delivery guy.
7:2
Oceans apart, day after day
And I slowly go insane
I hear your voice on the line
But it doesn't stop the pain
If I see you next to never
But how can we say forever?
Wherever you go, whatever you do
I will be right here waiting for you
Whatever it takes or how my heart breaks
I will be right here waiting for you
I took for granted all the times
That I thought would last somehow
I hear the laughter, I taste the tears
But I can't get near you now
Oh, can't you see it, baby?
You've got me going crazy
Wherever you go, whatever you do
I will be right here waiting for you
Whatever it takes or how my heart breaks
I will be right here waiting for you
I wonder how we can survive
This romance
But in the end, if I'm with you
I'll take the chance
Oh, can't you see it, baby?
You've got me goin' crazy
Wherever you go, whatever you do
I will be right here waiting for you
Whatever it takes or how my heart breaks
I will be right here waiting for you
My Dream
So all this talkin bout dreams... I've lived here a long time. I had hoped to do something for the city... maybe use my words... it's a beautiful city... so many different people... if I can remember enough... maybe write a little... help people know this city... it's more a matter of recall.
The memories are there, the psychologist at Clarity said. She said i can't access them, they are blocked. I can't see the big picture. If I can piece it together, maybe the city can see what I see... so, I guess that's the thing I feel i can't give up. My personal resentments are a smaller thing. My concerns about prescriptions... somewhere in-between.
So maybe I can put a few rocks down, grab that chisel... hopefully, give people a good idea. Just don't ask me for names. People gotta live here.