Darkness Until Dawn

 There was a helpful poem that mip gave in one of the groups. It was about not repeating past mistakes. Going down a different road. Thats what I need to do. Step back from certain relationships and stressors, not look to hospitals for fixits, find peace on the outside. 

  What's really ironic is to have so many people seeming so desperate for me to talk and yet so pissed off when I actually do. I definitely need to be much much more careful.

     It's really weird when one person has so many strong opinions and misconceptions built around themself. So, I'm just saving my breath and energy and telling everyone at once: I don't want to hurt anyone, and I'm too tired to argue with you. I need to focus on writing and working. Best wishes to all.       I'm going back to forgetting that the March clusterfuck ever happened. I'm pretending that MIP and I ended on good terms and that we're on the same side. Because that's what I need to do. Not like anyone from MIP reads this anyways.       I mean seriously. This is like The British (me) trying to convince the Italians (family) and the Americans (hospitals) that we all believe the same things and have a fully functional NATO alliance that agrees on everything. Just the fact that I need such a ridiculous metaphor to try to appease everyone says something by itself. I'm one person. I cannot possibly be worth arguing that much over...

 #5 stop engaging with people who never agree with you #2 stop going to psych hospitals #3 stop getting legalistic #4 stop trying to help people who don't want to be helped #1 they don't want to play #6 learn some new recipes #7 go back to the gym #8 don't repeat patterns

Dear Elle,     Maybe you have better words then me. But you knew me. Maybe you're not angry. Maybe you can see that I don't want to and did not ever want to hurt you. Maybe you can explain. I feel like a lemming. I keep going to mental hospitals expecting different results. It's really become bizarre. It doesn't even make sense to me, and I'm the one doing it. They wanted me to advocate. Now they want me to shut up. They can't make up their minds. My family only likes it if it's Bipolar and Prichards is faultless. They only like it if they can blame me/genetics. My world is distorted. It makes no sense. Maybe you can help them understand. Call off the dogs. Preferably before Monday.  Thanks, Ashes

     Ok, maybe a little less fixated on doctors and less paranoid about what they're doing.       So where was I? Elle was an RN at the 600-page hospital. The one that gets nervous about me now. The one that has the poem with my signature. That hospital. And yes, I ran a background check on her. And you can judge me for that. But while you're doing that, I need you to save some of that precious judgement for these doctors. Maybe in the 90s we had a higher opinion of what medicine could do. I don't know. But what I can tell you is, absent a lot of fancy metaphors that I haven't had the time or energy to come up with just yet, that a lot of mental manipulation and legalized drugs can be dangerous. That's my problem with the old guard. Elle kept me safe. She looked out for me. Never failed me, not once. She didn't overstep. She didn't go outside the wheelhouse. I was always safe in her care.       Now I have weird headaches, memory iss...

     OK, so my sleep and my focus aren't great and my regulation is still off. But I feel like I'm getting some traction in that I'm learning how other people are operating. They're starting to make a little more sense. Their patterns are a little more readable. That's a start.

      They're always coming up with reasons to bury me and Molly. Hypocrites.

     I've been noticing patterns. Now the Psychiatrists are running out of ideas. They're not focusing on hair color or Elle. Now they're alternating male/female. It's rather amusing if you stop and look at it. You do realize the problem goes well beyond me, yes? Y'all literally started it. You taught me the bullshit.     Ok, maybe threatening to shoot myself in front of North Wing was a bit much. I'm just tired of my families fighting over who I am.      Maybe we're slow learners. But I think we're catching up with each other.

     Why, no, the doctors don't want to kill me, they just don't know what they're doing. So, I have to help them understand...

     Why yes, yes I am. Do I care? Hell no, I don't like them particularly much. Thing is, I know she's right. Cleaning up my professionals. One Doctor/Doctorate at a time.

      I can't be the same as I was. I can't be with the same people anymore. I can be there from a distance, or I can be different up close. From a distance, I am medically perfect. Up close, I am anything but perfect. From a distance the world looks blue and green, and the snow-capped mountains white. From a distance the ocean meets the stream, and the eagle takes to flight. From a distance, there is harmony, and it echoes through the land. It's the voice of hope, it's the voice of peace, it's the voice of every man. From a distance we all have enough, and no one is in need. And there are no guns, no bombs, and no disease, no hungry mouths to feed. From a distance we are instruments marching in a common band. Playing songs of hope, playing songs of peace. They're the songs of every man. God is watching us. God is watching us. God is watching us from a distance. From a distance you look like my friend, even though we are at war. From a distance I just cannot com...

  Caffeine and ADHD: Is This Natural Treatment Safe & Effective?

     The better reasons to support Darkness Until Dawn include: learning how to avoid misusing drugs to numb or destroy yourself and others, learning what abuse looks like in all its forms, learning what toxic masculinity and toxic CBT look like, learning about boundaries... no charge, maybe a few ads if Adsense ever gets with the program. I'm losing patience. So tell everyone you know. Tell your dog. Tell your bartender. Tell the Chimpanzee at the zoo. Tell them about medicalized perfection and bad psychiatry. 

      Truth is a potent elixir. The truth shall set you free, they say. Funny how no one says that the Clozaril will set you free. So, I mix my words, I balance the ingredients. And I count on my friends. My readers. To keep reading. To understand the dangers of Bad Psychiatry. Because it's out there, waiting to suck you in. The drugs are out there and readily stocked on shelves. Come and get it. 

Dear Elle,      I've had my dark moments. I do know anger. But I will protect you. I'll keep talking. They can't shut me up. They can't help but read. But they can't choose the words I say. They can't choose their facts. They can't bury it with money and reputation. Not so long as I breathe. People will know the work of the magic maker Prichards and his enablers. And I will keep you safe from all harm. And they can lie about me. But I will speak the truth, and they won't shut me up. Yours, Shadows

     Ebbyday, dat Molly werks... ebbyday, Spidey weaves his cobwebs... waiting for di day dat my black widow arribes. Spidey keep his distance until people stop trying to step on me. Dey've gotten in a habit, so Spidey be patient. Wait until di all clear. Spidey berry patient.

  Dear coffee,      So, this is me supposedly doing "the work". You know, confessing my sins worldwide. I got tired of hiding the truth behind bipolar. Hopefully, it's working. I'm getting too old for this. I need to change. I need to stop getting stuck. I was trying to please my families. Worked out great, didn't it? Now everyone is pissed and I'm broke and delusional. But when the psychologist says I have impaired recall, I believe her 100%. It's like saying that grass is green.     Anyways, so Molly here decided to finish what Leaves started. The breaking up of my families. Telling you the truth. Getting me out of dysfunctional relationships and breaking the bubble of medicalized perfection. Yeah, if my memory was better, I could have moved. If I didn't, in fact, have DID, a very disabling and serious mental illness, I could have gotten out. It's a little late, I was miseducated. But I can still tell you the truth. The tale of a family that pref...