Sleep lab

Oh to sleep

And to sleep in a lab

With people watching, looking,

Straining, to see if I’m broken

Of course, I am, I’m here,

 

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Hell: Part two

My brother brought to my attention a way of looking at god. It is a viewpoint that I shall consider. I believe that it IS incongruous to believe that an omnipotent being would even consider us, let alone punish us for possible shortcomings. What shortcomings would be worthy of such punishment. (Theologians can leave their bibles at the door for this one as I am aware the sacrilege of which I speak….)

This page will not achieve what I am seeking to do but I’ll try anyway.

Hell is not a place. It is a prison in a person’s mind and is different for everyone. It is silent torment of voices that won’t go away. Depression that hurts so bad that one would risk it for relief. Possibly it could be memories of perceived wrongs that a person has done. Hell is here, now.

For some there is no peace from it. Does this mean that they deserve being In hell? Is the hearing of voices or feeling of hopelessness worthy of such dire consequences? Hell in this context IS real and painful and a place feared but it is also a prison of the mind.

 

 

The joy/hell of life…

We’ve all heard it before. The reasons for doing or not doing something. Lying… cause your nose will grow. Laughing…. and the world laughs with you. Talk about dying… cause you’ll go to hell.

But hell is something that I have lived with for quite some time. In the depths of depression, hell is life itself sometimes. People tell you not to talk like that either, cause they don’t feel safe in their own skins at that moment or as if merely hearing someone else talk about death or dying will cause them to start thinking that way too. Or  maybe it is because it is so forbidden. Try to tell someone that you want to die. First you will see shock, then denial, then finally a plea for your soul will ensue. ‘God doesn’t want you to die’, they say or, better, “you don’t mean that.’ It is the sentence about god that gets me. God is the omnipotent one who loves you if you are in line or sends you to hell if you’re not.

Religion and god are things that i hate to think about. Religion was pushed on me at an early age by a man (my father) who had no direction for himself. Instead of embracing it he clung to it like an iron life-preserver. Because he went, all had to go. The preacher reminded me of someone evil. He always wore a black suit and tie and slicked his hair back and he loved to talk about going to hell. Years later, I would see him again and this time he was trying to drum up business for a new church that he was affiliated with. It was funny because he was wearing a tan suit and i couldn’t believe how preposterous he looked. Imagine… the devil wearing tan!

Hell for me is having wants but sabotaging the desire to do the want. The devil is me saying one thing and doing something else. I do these things over and over to people who mean something to me especially my family. My wife is pained by this and worse is used to it happening over and over. The boys too have been disappointed more than I care to think about. I don’t know how to stop and worse, I don’t care to stop. That is hell.

I used to long for clear, clean days of thought that felt good. They happen all to rarely and they are just fleeting moments for me. The only time that I feel really clear is when I am working on something. I can fix most things that I touch as long as it is inanimate. I am not creative but I can build things if I have a pattern to go by and yet, this is not good enough for me. I want to be happy. I’d love to be able to let others around me be happy too. That has been too much to ask so far in this life.

Spending money was my replacement for joy. I thought spending money felt good. It did while I was doing it but the feeling was gone afterward, I suspect it is a feeling similar to that feeling gamblers get while they are gambling. Money gone, nothing left but guilt and shame that it didn’t go toward something more  reasonable, like bills. I used to think that the many laces that we travelled to made some difference in me and my family’s life but I never hear reminices about any of those.

It once was that I thought that there was time for me to do better. I searched for answers many places and even inside of myself but cannot find any of the answers that I seek. There is something in my brain that is blocking that from happening. a hazy fog that only lifts for moments in my life. I suspect that my wife would tell me that she told me so…

Normal?

What is normal? I’ve said in the past that normal is varying degrees of pathology, which means that everyone has problems to some degree. So at what degree is considered abnormal. They wrote a book on the subject. The dsm IV outlines and defines what illnesses are and how to determine the severity of the illness.

Given this there are a lot of us who have chosen for whatever reason to seek help. Many of us are not a threat to anyone but want to feel more “normal”. Next comes “normal people who ARE a hazard, know it, but refuse to seek treatment.

Maybe we should train lots of therapists and all get tested. This wouldn’t work because people have rights to privacy. Unless one has a dx mental illness. Those who are diagnosed many times can’t get insurance, can’t pass a background check. (Wonder how they get information? Hmmmm)

I guess that my point is, if you want a “normal” life, maybe you shouldn’t go for help, take the tests and put into “the system”. You’ll suffer but you’ll a live a normal life.

LOL. What a world we live in! I’m kidding, of course. If a person needs help they should get it. My goal is to get awareness out that there is NOT equality for all. Mentally ill people are seen as a threat which is wrong. Diabetics are sick but are provided privacy and protection. We should be too!

Mental Illness Motel

I read an article about the terrible treatment and conditions that people suffer during inpatient hospital stays. Quality of everything, from furnishings to food to therapy and more is wildly different! Some places have what appears to be second hand furniture. When queried, staff at one facility said that it was because of the way patients come in, soiled, dirty and drunk. When i asserted that I was none of those she said that she was sorry.

At least I got an apology. My thoughts about that was why didn’t they do something about those patients? Surely getting them out of filth covered clothes might be a start to therapy? I have been in several times and seen most diagnosis. Even those in psychosis cooperated enough to get cleaned up and change into hospital clothes! One man came in drunk, had urinated and defecated in his clothes and he never changed into anything clean for his seventy-two hour hold. Staff and patients avoided him. What good came to him? By the time I ever got to the point of hospitalization, my anxiety and depression levels were substantial. Sometimes it is hard just to deal with my own problems and others problems too. But the sight and smell made getting my head back together very difficult.

Mind you, of my inpatient stays were not like this, thankfully. Most hospitals had good staff and surroundings, conducive to healing the short time that one was allowed to be there. Inpatient wards are not profitable because so many pyscho-sick people don’t have money and until very recently, insurance companies were allowed to pay out at much lower benefit rates. (50% up to a certain amount, no more, and that was after a deductible) State welfare usually had weird formulas to ascertain if and then how much money would be paid to help expenses. I usually made just over the amount that have given me anything. That meant that collection agencies would soon be on my ass to try to get what I didn’t have to pay their bill. I still have quake to the bone anxiety, worrying about how i will ever pay those bills. Collection calls, credit, money problems, how much could they pile on?

A huge part of the problem, which has been addressed and needs to continue to be addressed, is the stigma and fear of psycho-illness. I sometimes think that people are afraid that i am contagious. I know for certain that people are afraid of mental illness. After all, it is invisible and it suddenly shows up unannounced and without much, if any warning. Media helps spread the fear and the ignorance about mental sickness. [As an aside, how does the media find out about protected medical knowledge about people?] Too often in order to sensationalize the news info “leaked” to the press is diseminated to the public. Instead of a man with a gun, it often becomes a “crazed” man with a gun.

As an advocate I will continue to write and talk about these stigmas and fears. We must have a safe haven when we are at our worst (and NOT jail! ). We must have access to competent care so that we can function at our jobs, in our lives and in the community. We must feel safe enough to seek help in the first place.

Dueling poles

I went my psych drug prescriber today. She has, in the past suggested that i am bi polar. Today it became official. Lucky me, not! I shouldn’t be surprised. Other practitioners have thought the same and I have been on trials of lithionate. I hate the side effects and not taken it. Of course this hasn’t changed anything and in fact has most definately delayed any benefit that I might have gained if i would have pursued an alternative therapy.

Now that I have a firm dx and if i can accept it, maybe treatment will help me. I hope so. I’ve more despondent over the past 6 months and it is causing immense of anxiety to go along it. I don’t feel that there is much in my life even though there is evidence to the contrary. I am sick to death of not having any drive to do anything.

The treatment plan is seroquel, limictal, abilify, cymbalta the only thing new at this point is the abilify I take that in the morning. Oh, and a new therapist. Lucky me. Going to a new therapist is worse than going to the dentist. I don’t have the trust to expose parts of my dysfunctional brain for any of them to the whole picture. Maybe will tell my I’m a hopeless case and i can go on having an un-lifeas the rest of it has been…. Shit…. what a mess. At least at 60 years old i won’t have put with it for oh so many years.

Well, stay tuned. We’ll see what happens next!

A less stressed life?

In my next life I think that I’d like to have a little less stress. Now that is kinda a bold statement I know. Besides I don’t know too many people who don’t want that for themselves. How would one achieve such a goal? I guess that shortly after being born you could take up residence in a cave somewhere and as long as it didn’t cost you anything to stay, that could be a start. And a diet of crickets would sustain someone, at least they wouldn’t starve (might get scurvy though). So there we have housing and food such as it would be..

Those two things cause a lot of stress because of cost and availability. But there are so many other stressors that come into play. People. Boy, talk about stress! So what do we do about those people who really get under our skin? We actually have to interact, at least minimally, given the vast number of people on our planet. That and you have to come out of the cave once in a while.

Back to annoying people. Sorting people isn’t like sorting rocks out of beans even though there are definitely people who seem to have rocks for brains. The thoughts that come from rocks I would guess might be like the ones that come from obnoxious and intolerable individuals. I haven’t been real successful avoiding rocks in my life. I’ve stubbed my toes, knocked my head against them and tripped over them. Just like those people.

Given that humans are the largest stressor in life… Damn…people who damage us are usually those who we cannot avoid. Dysfunctional parents from the very beginning start the process. No way can an infant escape parents. But the thing that can be done is what I have done. I have avoided the actions and behavior that my father exhibited all of my life. I have done my best to be a role model to other people, especially children even before my own children were born. That is how we can curb abuse and neglect in this society. That is how we can help limit the ailments that plague this world. By being mentors and protect every child.