Darkness Until Dawn

     Well, This boundary was recommended by the Psychiatrist. This one carries LPC Branding. I like the Social Worker Brand. Soft on the eyes. Hmmmmm... this one is faded.... The lettering on this one is not clear... This one is too bright... red's not a good color for boundaries. This boundary doesn't have enough starch. Throw them all in the washer. Fabric softener makes these boundaries go over well. Hmm.. this boundary could use a little vinegar right here. Do I have enough boundaries? There's a store for that too, I'm sure. Found some boundaries over here. These boundaries aren't working anymore. I'll give them away. They work for somebody. I don't like the Busybody Brand. The MindYourOwnDamnBusiness Brand. That's one I can live with. Do they make t shirts? Maybe I'll put it on a tie.  Changed my emergency contacts. Old ones not working for me anymore. What's this one's phone number? LPC-WOR-K4ME. Yes, that's the number. I can rememb...

Dissociative Disorders like DID and Borderline have a lot in common. These people have bad boundaries. They tend to lose themselves in other people. They have patterns They return to the same places, same people, time after time. Oftentimes they are runners. They misplace trust. This is nothing new. McClean knows this. MIP knows this. Most every mental health organization or counselor out there knows this. The thing is, all this starts somewhere. You learn this somewhere. It all comes back to those same places and people you started with, The places and people that you trusted first. The ones that taught you to learn how to walk, to read, to trust in the first place. Dissociative Disorders start somewhere, You wanna find the origins? You don't have to look far. It starts before you end up at one of these places. You trace the footsteps back, you track the running... it walks all the way back... back home. Bad boundaries are learned. They are taught. When you have a Dissociative Dis...

 Another trick I used in the ER while they were talking about me was an arcade. In my mind I played pac man, donkey kong, a martial arts game with a moving screen i can't remember the name of, space invaders... I kept my mind busy. Pong. Tennis. Whatever arcade game I could think of.  I thought of different foods. Peeling an orange. Thinking the sensations. Crunches. vanilla.  Sometimes when I can't sleep I think about my favorite foods. For the nuts, I like walnuts, pecans, and especially almonds. I love to go too the canned almond isle. What's the brand? Diamond? I pick a different one... Usually they're on sale, so i'll get two or three cans. The vinegar ones, honey, the BBQ... love those things. The nutritionists haec run me through all the diets and formulas. The colors. The plate formulas. Vegetarian, seafood... I always fall back on a combination of Mediterranean and complex carb. Few starches, lots of fruits and veggies, yogurt, my pasta is always wheat, not...

 So in the hospital, I was talking about trauma memories. Symbols. Places. That kind of thing, And then they changed it to bipolar again, and I really don't think they actually believe that they just want me to stay away from certain people. Hence the boundaries. You don't fix this with medication. That's not how it works. I was not manic. You know this. I was dissociating. It was obvious. This is not bipolar. It never was. You know this.  My family wants it to be bipolar, so it can be the meds, and it can be Gateway. Gateway's never going to take someone with a trauma disorder. That's not what they do. Just because you change a code. That doesn't make it true. That's why clozaril doesn't work.  But people are still gonna look for a place to put me, even if that place doesn't want me. A fake dx don't make the wheels turn. you knew it too. You emphasized the boundaries. You hated the memories and symbols. Because this is not bipolar. You think Gat...

I used a lot of coping skills in the ER, as dissociated as I was. I counted things. Lots of imagery. I visited so many places. Around SC. Around the US. Around the world. I looked at outer space. At stars. I used ocean waves. Rain. Beaches. Forests. I rode leaves down streams. Jumped frogs. Waded in creeks. Built things. Watched fireworks. I floated in water. Mostly in the ocean. I collected shells. I saw waterfalls. I played almost every song I could think of. I reviewed intellectual topics. The military is a favorite. I contemplated different ships. The F-35. International Relations. Politics a little. Different people. Famous ones. I was the wind. I was the rain. I flew. I went swimming in the ocean. I closed my eyes and I went away. My mind was busy going here and there. I remembered conversations, certain memories.  I played with animals and critters some. I felt the sheets. They gave me some sprite. I focused on the bubbles. It was actually more nature imagery then music. But...

The blood pressure was 149/92. Repairs are underway.  Everywhere I go, I get comments. To the store, out to eat, in the parking lot, at the library, everywhere. Checkers keep checking. But my stomach has calmed down. I've been eating more.  When I volunteered at crisisline, I heard many things. At times, we had to work with the police. At times, 911. All sorts of problems. On the main line. On Julie Valentine. On Safe Harbor. Some of the things I said then, I wouldn't say now. Some of the things I didn't fully understand, I understand better now. Some of the strange behavior. Some of the attitudes. The thoughts. It makes more sense. There were hospitals that threatened people with restraining orders then. They do it now too. Trauma works in weird ways. There were people that wouldn't leave other people alone no matter what. That hasn't changed. There were people who were in bad situations. Who could have left. But this was their home. They wouldn't leave. There ...

Everybody's got a voice right? Well, I heard a few voices in the hospital. Only these were real. From technicians to nurses to doctors to whatever their positions were. It wasn't just one or two. There was a clear message. One they wanted me to send. That message was "fuck off". They were quite passionate about this message. So I gotta pass it on. As a courtesy. How do you know when you have a problem? When the hospital staff is literally instructing you on how to tell people in your life to fuck off. And I gotta respect that. Because people do get pissed off. They get pissed off when members of the community are having other members of the community moved from this center to that center to this hospital to that hospital and getting a new label every day. It does piss people off. Especially if those members of the community are trying to manage the medication of other members of the community, generate referrals out of thin air, contradict the orders of the hospital o...