no straight lines

I am so very emotional today. I feel like I have regressed months as the tears just keep flowing. I find myself feeling a bit angry and annoyed with myself for this. I felt like I had made and was making so much progress. I even felt I was gaining some confidence...
But maybe sometimes I try to run faster than I am really capable of. sometimes I feel like I know the right answer and I know what to do but then it still hurts and is hard.
Like burning bridges.
Some bridges, I feel, really just need to be burned so I can't keep going back to them.
So I do the right thing, give people what they want, but then my stupid mind still goes back and I second guess.. or maybe I just hurt at the cold harsh realities of it, that it really is what they wanted or were pushing for, and they really don't care to understand; the harsh realities that come to the forefront during difficult times.
I am also still very much dealing with backlash. I have many people who witnessed me in mania and the mess that followed and they are now deciding if I am worth their time, effort and concern. They are deciding this now that I am not appearing to be in immediate danger/crises. Many were not there but were at least kind in their avoidance. Now I feel things from them that I am not understanding, I think it is reluctance.
I have one friend that I now work with. I actually got her the job. She is one of those strong personalities, quick whit type of person that everybody loves. She is and can be a lot of fun. I have known her a very long time. We were roommates in college, and, while she can be a lot of fun, I know some other sides of her. For one, she can be a pretty lousy friend. She almost always backs out of plans last minute and she is pretty shameless about replacing you. I also have had a sneaking suspicion that she may be saying crap about me to relieve maybe justify her being such a crappy friend when I have really needed people. I tell myself I am being paranoid... But then again, I know this friend and I know how she works... and then today at lunch she joined our clinic group. As all eyes lit up and I could feel the enthusiasm for her, I felt further lonely and rejected... I figured I was maybe just jealous...
but then over the course of lunch she proceeded to tell about an experience when we were roommates and their is certainly an air of putting me down. Is it an attempt to make me look bad and her heroic? I respond with numb down playing of her comments that were making me sound irrational and foolish while I solidly own the punching of a boy that was being a jerk. Maybe it was my attempt to make sure they all knew I am tough enough not to mess with and I will not be a victim. But I feel annoyed with how she is telling the story. I don't like  the tone she is using and the direction she chooses to take it.
I have heard her tell this story and others with much more enthusiasm and a very different tone. I am not sure why she is telling it al all and especially with this somewhat condescending/pitying tone.
As I am feeling so many things form people, I feel my suspicions may have just been confirmed. I try to ignore it. I try to down play it and I try not to be hurt by it.
But it hurts.
It hurts.
I am not the same person I was a year ago. I am not the same person I was 2 years ago. I am not the same person I was when she and I were college roommates... I am no longer okay with being the sidekick to fair-weather friends. I am not okay with them putting me down to feel better about how they are or are not treating me.
I'm done.
But it is not so easy as I would like it to be.
It still hurts.
And I don't know how to break away from the things people hold you too, the me they want to keep me pegged as.
"Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run away..."
...and as I assess my emotions and where it is all coming from I also feel sad and scared as I can guess the reality of people utilizing me and sharing my story; they very likely won't because I offended one of their board members by trying to understand, and I am not welcome by people they want strong ties to. I am too risky once again, even though I am not and should not be seen that way. I  fear I will be discarded once again by an institution that is where I belong.
I hope this is not true... but I see it coming and the writing is on the wall.
And it hurts.
It hurts knowing mistakes made, when I was so very broken and vulnerable have been used so harshly against me and attempts to reconcile and/or to understand, my attempts to help them understand, my misunderstandings, even my faith in humanity and so many things were used against me and will be used against me. Even my kids' choices and desires to understand and/or help have been used against me.
He will, and they will, use whatever they can against me
...for loving him and for believing in them.
And it hurts.
It hurts.
It hurts that family is handling this about the same as how they handled the first TBI; it's too much so they don't.
Sometimes, somedays, it is just too in my face.
And I suppose that is what today was.
It would be nice if I could run away and start over...
But alas...
I stick around. Because my husband has been pointing out for years, when I have felt ditched and hurt by the above mentioned friend, that she is not a very good friend to me
and because my kids still believe in and need me. They even look out for me.
And because some friends are still friends and offer words of encouragement
and actually try to understand
and because I can still process my emotions and face whatever it is that is hurting me.
Today it hurts. Today the backlash was too in my face. Today I cried and cried as I tried to ignore and avoid the reasons why. Avoiding, trying not to think about it, just trying to forget did not work. It brought back the suicidal thoughts, the feelings of worthlessness...
So I once again looked at it as a symptom and then I allowed myself to analyze the why of the symptoms.
Why?
because the harsh realities of life can be pretty damn harsh at times.
Why?
because I make mistakes
Why?
because other people make mistakes
but also people can be serious jerks and behave really stupid to feel better about being a jerk.
Why?
because I have a lot of broken pieces that I am working to hold together and striving to fix what I can and accept what I cannot fix.
and also because even though people hurt me I still give them credit -which I want to continue to do- but sometimes it makes the hurt cut extra deep.
So I'll be a cutter by cutting myself some slack and cutting some ties
and as I do
I remember what Dr. She said about how healing, recovery, learning how to live with these new norms and realities is not a straight line.

refusing to die, because I am the bad guy

More and more I feel like it was intentional grooming. Subtle and sly in his methods, he was setting me up, manipulating for a desired outcome.
On paper I am a prime target for it.
Prime target also means the effects will be much more devastating.
And I am trapped
back in the dysfunctional marriage, friend and family relationships.
I am burning many of them down
because I am tired of hurting
I am tired of the dynamics that hurt me.
My head is confused
my heart is broken
but I have no way out
I am dependent
and beat down
but I am supposed to keep being so considerate and aware of the burden that I am. I am supposed to be there to meet their needs and to make sure they are okay and feel okay about being a jerk to me...
And in the event that I say something that makes someone uncomfortable or expect some help with my shit, I will often take a verbal beating about it...
And here I go, feeling sorry for myself again.
Only the good die young, which must be why I am still alive...
Maybe that is why
I refuse to die, to kill myself, to relieve them of their burden.
Because really I am bad
...for not killing myself.
So maybe I will keep burning down bridges as I head on over to the dark side
in my attempt to hold onto my immortality

Writing it out in my safe place

Sometimes I am kind of a jerk. Not very often is it intentional.
Right now maybe it is a touch intentional as I am being one to the friend that thinks I had thought myself into a rabbit hole.
I am refusing to read his text after I gave a blunt and calling-out-your-bullshit-kiss-off-back-at-you text in reply to his kiss-off text.
His message is a repeat of others. He wants to remain aligned with the views that I challenge and he wants me to bugger off but he also does not want to feel guilty about telling me to bugger off or for not wanting to help the way he had previously suggested he would or was willing to.
I get the feeling from him that I am a thorn in his side and a pain in his ass and therefore I should be grateful that he has carried me as said thorn/pain as long as he has.
I disagree.
I think I need to stop trying to nurture, salvage and make amends in relationships with people that view me as such.
So I am negotiating in this hurtful friendship end. I can allow him the end he desires but I am refusing to honor him as a hero and good friend in the way he is attempting to end things and in his timing.
I am lighting my side of the bridge on fire so he can stop shooting the camouflaged fiery darts over to make sure the bridge catches and appears to burn down from my side.
They have not been that good of friends for years, as they keep trying to replace us and only utilize us as their friends when their attempted replacements don't work out as planned. I wonder if they think we don't notice this.
I don't need those kind of friends and I need to stop waiting in the wings loving them regardless always hoping for their return.
So I am being a jerk.
Or am I safeguarding?
The last three texts sent by said friend have started with subtle jabs or backhanded comments and that is as far as I am willing to read.
Maybe I am being too sensitive because I am extra sensitive right now.
Dr. She says it is okay, normal and expected that I am gun shy and too nervous about friends and trying to pursue any old or new goals right now. She says after what I have been through and the hurts of these last couple of years she would be more worried if I was not.
I ask her to read the long text from said friend that I could not bring myself to read. She does and thinks it is better, more human and sincere than the last one, she gives me the cliff notes. I ask her if I should try to salvage that friendship. She says it is up to me. She says I may get hurt again because we are human and people make mistakes, which she knows I already know, but basically I have to decide if it is worth it for me and she says, whatever I decide is the right answer for me.
I think on this.
I think about reading the text but
"Running the risk of offering up more "shit," I wanted to apologize" feels backhanded and I don't trust. I find I need to safeguard so that is where I stop reading again.
I think about what has been said and what has been consistent. I realize that what has been consistent is the desire to end the relationship. It feels very much like he is using these events to justify that. It feels as though he is jumping on the bandwagon and that does not feel good. I think I do not need that. I think maybe it would be best to severe ties.
So I give a reply that will help with that -severing the ties- but I refuse to honor him as a hero in it and I take a stand for myself. I share some of the things he has not bothered to ask about that I am trying to come to terms with and that are effecting even that conversation.  Some of what I say and how I say it is mimicking his patterns/methods. I let him know that even though I have no energy or desire to read his text, I am open to speaking in person.
He texts, another long text, back.
"Sounds like I am writing to myself then. I am glad you have proper care givers..." that is far as I can go. Ordering tests and the words on the MRI are not proper care givers. In fact I am far from it. I still have a 4 month wait to see the TBI neurologist and one that I hope I can understand better than Dr. Odd. Dr. Odd who does not see people for TBI but would see me for the tremors. And a good thing, since it allowed me to get the testing done in a year that I had met my out of pocket max, but he says contradictory things and is definitely not the right guy to have treating for the stuff I have going on; too much contradiction and uncertainty in his views. After a ridiculous amount of effort just to get an appointment with the endocrinologist I still have not met with him either. And my psychiatric PA is still trying hard to get me in with the neurology department she would like me to see. She has been trying since August and the best we have is a letter saying I am on the waiting list to even schedule an appointment. So the comment annoys me and is further evidence of his intention to remain ignorant. Plus the first comment, again, feels backhanded or like a subtle jab. I am a bit to tender right now, so I do not respond well to the jabs. So again I refuse to read the long texts and reiterate part of why, but once again say I might be open to conversation in person.
The last text, he is clearly mad as evidenced by the first few words that I cannot avoid reading [due to the fact that they show up without even opening and I am a good enough reader that I do not have to focus on every word individually] but I do my best to avoid reading.
At this point I am feeling a touch sorry but I also know I am giving him at least half of what he wants and I think maybe he is showing a lack of respect for my terms by continuing to text when I told him I was not open to that form of communication.
I am temped to text him back and say, "look, all three of your last texts start off with subtle backhandedness or slight jabs, I don't feel safe continuing to read and I gave you an alternative form of communication I would be more open to."
But I just don't think I am going to get anywhere and I really don't need to keep going back to people who perceive me to be something I am not nor want to be. I have made plenty of mistakes, and I have been a pain in the ass at times, I am sure; I can own these, but I have also been dismissed and discredited in many ways and I really don't need that.
So...
Here I am writing out, instead of continuing in a pointless impasse fight.

You think, therefore I am? No

"Because you chose tough," says Renée, "You don't want to be a victim, you are intelligent and an empath."
"You seem okay and appear to be okay so therefore you must be" and they will not allow you to shake their world views or perceptions. "They double down" says Dr. She "so therefore it must be you that is wrong."
This is why people want to miss and dismiss the troubles of TBI.
This is why people don't want to help or believe their could ever be a problem with the medical providers who missed and dismissed.
I am fortunate, says Renée because mine is at least easily proven by MRI.

The magicians hat.

“Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run away. So he said to his mother, ‘I am running away.’
‘If you run away,’ said his mother, ‘I will run after you. For you are my little bunny’…”
This is the beginning of one of my most favorite childhood books. It is by Margaret Wise Brown with pictures by Clement Hurd. The words were running through my brain our last few days in Mexico.
...

I think this story appeals to me not just because the little bunny's desire to run away resonates but maybe also because I crave the relationship he has with his mother. She will continue to go after him. Her statements following his always an "if you do then I will follow you and become whatever I need to be there with and for you and love you." 

It is such a sweet premise and such a desirable ideal. It is my wish to be loved that much. I believe most people wished to be loved that much. 

But it is not real.

Just a sweet children's story book that feeds those silly ideals.

...

Also I think I am addicted to this blog. 

It offers me rather instant and usually seemingly effective relief when I need it. 

But I find myself wondering if it is entirely good or healthy.

Why do I judge or think I need to judge this?

Are some addictions good and healthy? 

The runners high can be addicting

and it is said to be good and healthy

But is it?

I suppose I wonder this today, because I feel sad and melancholy, and I don't really want to.

I feel a bit lost and insecure when I think what to do with myself from here. 

I feel very beat down in my big ideas making it feel pointless to pursue since I lack influence and support, thus I feel I do not have the courage or energy to pursue them.

I want to keep believing...

but I also want to 

disappear. 

more rational manic

One of my writings is up on my computer, not sure why. It is dated Dec. 11, 2018 and I wrote it while we were on the flight to Italy. I am not sure if I would have been still considered manic at that time.
What I wrote is logical and makes sense. I understood the situation I was in very well, it seems. It even seems I was more logical and rational about it then. And I wonder how that was even possible because I know I had been manic and things, at least in my mind, had gotten so crazy.
How is it I was so much more logical and rational when I was in that still somewhat manic phase?
As I read I remember the feeling of needing things addressed then. I remember feeling angry when I finally did get put on a mood stabilizer because, surely, it would have been so much easier if I had been put on something way back in January when I went to Dr. R (Concussion Dr) after returning from Italy, knowing I was not functioning normal and wanting to discuss it but not sure how because I was trying to protect Dr. P. Way back when Dr. R recognized that I needed one but then proceeded down a path that did not make sense to me in giving me the names for 2 PA's at less suitable and fitting practices, and expecting me to make the appointments and follow through with that. I did try by-the-way.
But mostly as I read I vaguely remember something that Dr. She said about how if it is truly mania or bipolar than a person will progressively loose touch with reality. If we were to graph it the mood and mental state would continue on a downward slant if it was, but it would not if a person just experiencing a high time or something else, not bipolar or true mania.
... That is what happened. Even as I was waking up from mania in various phases I was loosing touch with reality and slipping deeper and deeper into depression also. I was fighting hard to keep grounded and fighting hard to stay sane, but it was getting progressively worse and I was definitely working hard to maintain that footing.
It knots my throat up and moistens my eyes.
It has been such a messed up messy mess and such a bizarre fight for survival

the wrong climate for fair weather friends

I'm tired as we are driving back to our Airbnb in Cozumel. I feel a bit forlorn, maybe just because I am tired. I am not thinking about things. I am enjoying this vacation. It is the  Christmas and Birthday presents I surprised my husband with. He deserves this vacation, especially considering the shit I have put him through this last year, so I have made it that, vacation for him; committed to letting it be whatever he wants. And mostly I have done well with that.
...but tonight, with 3 nights left I feel a touch sad. This alternate reality is going to end and I feel a little lost.
... I think about what I am going to do when I get home and
 I think I have lost myself.
I wonder who I am.
Then my husband says something about staying here and how it is so much less lonely here. I feel that too and I am glad I am not the only one, but I also know I would probably have the same problems here.
I apologize to my husband for not being able to keep friends and he says rather quickly and bluntly that they are all ... not going to repeat his choice of words but it made me cry ... probably with gratitude that he does not blame me and he appreciates me. It also makes me cry because I don't want to go home to the cold state that I live in. I don't belong there.
...but then again
Where do I belong?
and who am I?
I am lost.
and yet I am not sure a person can be lost if they never really belonged anywhere.
So I am not sure I have ever really known who I am in this moment.
I thought I had it. For a brief moment in time I thought I knew who I was and I was finding me...
...but then it was mania.
and then denied by the very people who are supposed to know and the one place in the world that felt safe, calm, and like home to me.
So the denial confused me
it then meant I was the forbidden fantasy of the very person I needed most.
And I did need him
he was helping me find me
...but once again I found myself with
a person I loved and needed not able to handle me.... And I was sure he could... if only he would try.
So I was the forbidden fantasy of the man who was finding me and helping me to see that I could be me, loved, and I could love me.
...but...
 in reality I know it is/was not a forbidden fantasy - rather he told me things in a way that left it open to interpretation, implying what he thought might help me but more importantly what would protect himself while getting him out and away from me -from the fantasy he knew he should not have played with, but too late.
so what am I?
A toy?
to my husband now?
to get back at him; my transference that betrayed me?  A toy to my husband to try and break free of the those manic meaningful moments where I knew I was no longer my husbands or even my own person but his. These ideas solidly reinforced by too many months and too many games played with my broken mind by the him and the Institute that protects him.
This is what happens when therapists play with their very fragile and vulnerable patients. This is what happens when the people we need, who we love and trust, use us as play things and then discard us. 
It is not well and good. It is not fair. It is very very wrong. If it is mistake, play fair and fix it, but they don't. They lie and hide because you are never the only one and you are not so special; it is their game.

And people back at home say shit like "what are you trying to do?"
Well,
I am fighting for my husband.
I am trying to get my head straight
and to set the record straight
and I am also speaking out against a man who played with me
and then made a mess of things when it came to getting the help I needed
or -to cover his ass and tracks- he manipulated me so that I would make a mess of things in trying to get the help I needed.
I am bringing this to light, because if that is what it was, it needs to be brought to light and addressed.
I am trying to set the institution straight
that kept this nonsense going for far too long when I was trusting them to be the medical providers they are supposed to be. When I was begging for help in my oh-so-put-together way while I was so incredibly broken, unstable, and vulnerable but refusing to be that or a victim. When I was crying for help because my brain was and is literally broken and it was being missed and dismissed.
I am speaking up and out against the doctor that messed things up by not ordering tests that would have shown the damage and injury and other anomalies in the first place.
Maybe, had they done their jobs and due diligence Dr. He would not have played with me the way he had. Maybe. but still, he did, and that needs to be addressed.
I am crying out for the misunderstood of mentally ill and the TBI, and the people who genuinely try.
I will not relent.
I cannot
because to loose one's mind is a scary thing and trying to find and/or hold yourself together while going through it is immensely difficult and should not be so discredited and dismissed
especially by those who are supposed to help
and could benefit from that kind of knowledge, experience, and ability to do just that.
That is what I am up to,
my fair weather friends,
this is what I am up to...
...and maybe I am not so lost after all. Maybe I am exactly who I need to be and where I need to be, Maybe I really am finding me.

Silver Linings

Psychiatric PA says, "that is not a good spot for injury" referring to the location of the visible scaring and encephalomalacia. She is also the one who said something about the prolonged mania and bipolar  like mood instability being "hard on brains."
BUT
here in Cancun we discovered one advantage to these two trials, tragedies, traumas, or whatever you want call them: when you are in a timeshare style presentation, your brain will inevitably get tired and then the unstable emotions may come out.
AND you can clam having brain damage and not be lying.
So yesterday, during the high pressure sales presentation we were sitting so I was facing a very large sunny window after we had been inundated with information and I felt soooo tired. I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open. Probably the fact that we had started our travels at 2 am the previous day and we were in a foreign country where we were exhorted for significant amounts for auto insurance buy the car company people and speeding by the police, did not help. But as my brain was feeling the exhaustion and my cognitive stamina was wanting I could feel the emotions starting to surface. I felt like crying. For no reason other than I was tired really. But the mental fatigue was making it very difficult for me to pay attention and to follow all of their deals and jargon. The sales kid was starting to get annoyed. I tried to explain I wasn't okay and he decided we should not waste each others time so he gave up and took us to who I am certain is the closer. He starts breaking into his sales spiel. I try to explain that I need to go lay down, he keeps up his talk and I find myself covering my face as crocodile tears start to run uncontrollably down my face. Closer is a bit confused. My husband explains that I am not feeling well and I really need to go lay down. The closer quickly shows us the bottom line deal and excuses because the tears just won't stop. I apologize and we return to our room so I can rest and reset my tired broken brain. It was annoying and silly but at least it got us off the hook rather quickly from feeling obligated to purchase a vacation points system that is way to confusing and we still get to enjoy the all inclusive amenities for the remaining 4 days we are booked here.

How to temper the temper.

I got to see Dr. She today. I needed this appointment. She is glad I had the MRI's and I am getting some answers. She wants me to continue down the rabbit hole and that is so funny to me that she says it that way because the "friend" that was claiming to help and be there but ultimately is too scared to stand up for me in reality and legalities, accused me of thinking myself into a rabbit hole. I tried to explain that it was really more the other way around. In mania and PTSD and what ever was going on with my head and Dr. P, the rabbit hole got me and I have actually been trying to think myself out of it.  Old "friend" psychologically would like to still be the hero, so he finds ways to blame me to relieve himself of the guilt of misleading when he really does not want to be involved, so he says, "that is just what you have to tell yourself to feel good about what you are doing."
Really, what a jerk thing to say. and the bipolar brain damaged part of me wants to unleash and explode they way my body caves to and the way I rightfully could given my ailments or conditions. It can be hard to refrain, sometimes even harder when medicated because then you really know just how big of a jerk they other person is being and since you aren't having to work so damn hard to keep yourself together and all your emotions contained sometimes the emotions sneak out because you have been able to relax some.
So it is very funny to me that Dr. She who is very knowledgable, experienced and qualified is telling me to continue on chasing through this rabbit hole.
At a different point I tell her I feel like lashing out at friends (like the above mentioned.) I ask her permission or her thoughts.
I love that she points out the location and types of injuries as evidenced by my MRI's and lets me know that my lashing out and/or wanting to actually corresponds to my injuries. It is an expected behavior. She says more, and in much more intelligent ways than I can't reiterate, and I wish I could reiterate better (another difficulty for me due to the locations of injuries) because it is so funny and validating.
But as I push for her permission, she reminds me of the realities of why I am asking and why I resist lashing out. She advises. And that is exactly what I need at times. It is very helpful when those urges become so overwhelming. This is also another way I have learned to cope and handle my disabilities and intensities. I ask for help. I ask for permission and I have worked hard to resist urges that may be damaging. At times, if I can frame it in this way, I can hold off an exploding, until I have been granted permission. And permission is usually not given but conversation allows for some outlet of the pressure and often I can avoid an explosion altogether. People likely don't realize how much permission I really ask for and I am certain they do not understand that I am actually asking for permission. I am pretty good at controlling emotions in this way. But not always perfect and my passions come out to bite me in the butt from time to time.
I have noticed it is especially difficult when I am under stress or tired.
That is common for most people I believe, but multiplied and/or heightened for me.
Just like the likelihood of suicide.
It can take a lot of effort to be level and "normal" when your regulators are damaged.
Like I have said before, sometimes I want to show people just how big of a pain in the ass I have not been. But I mostly resist.
Your Welcome.
Love,
Me

bad games.

It's a game to him.
It is a game to them.
I am so mad right now because it was just a game to them.
I was a game.
They treated me like I was there playing games.
My head hurts
my heart hurts
my head hurts
and I am mad
I am mad
it does not disappear
the pain in my head
the ringing in my ear
the mood instability
this is not a game to me
and this is not fun
I am paying for them to have played with me
to lie
and play stupid games
for my money?
 for their egos?
They did not look or try to figure out what was going on with my head
they just wanted me dead
I hate you
I hate you
I hate you
...and it replays
every time my head starts to hurt
it replays and I know
he was playing with me
a toy
that is all I was
a toy
and he gets to decided, he holds all the cards
and he can manipulate it to be what ever he wants
he's covered his ass
he covers his tracks
and he tried to turn me into a stalker
he lied
about me
to protect himself
and lied to me
so I would protect him too.
and I could not say what was happening with me because #1 I trusted him and he took things the direction he took. He steered away from conversation about what was physiologically and psychologically happening to me and turned it into a transference countertransference issue #2 He said he could get into trouble because of me, he could loose his license so I could not speak because I did not want that to happen to him. I cared. I loved him and he fed those feelings, used them, manipulated me in them, when I was manic, when I was experiencing PTSD and returning memories, when my brain was damaged and broken.. when it has an extra mass that should not be there....
I am yelling "NO, This is NOT OKAY," to nobody as I relive.
I want it to stop.
like I am in a bad dream. The yelling, I am not sure if I meant to do that or not.
I am just glad no one is around in that moment.
I hate him.
I hate them.
Dr. Reddy who was supposed to be the doctor overseeing. she played games
she would not treat because she believed whatever his lies were...
I hate her.
I hate them.
They are dishonest
I hate the Jodi who lied, misrepresented, and worked to make a case against me when she was supposed to be representing me.
It was all lies
It is all lies
and it is disgusting
and it hurts my head
and it hurts my heart
and they think it is a game
they have no shame.
they are the biggest creepers I have ever met and I thought they were good. I believed them, I trusted them I tried to help them...
they don't want to help people, they want to take advantage. They want easy money.
They are dishonest crooks and they try to criminalize me for speaking up, for speaking out. For expecting them to be what they proclaim themselves to be.
I am a lot of things
 but crazy
 in a bad way
that is they!
This is absolute insanity.
and I hate them. I hate them as my head hurts and my ear rings and my cognitive stamina falls short again.
I hate them as the bad dream replays causing sudden outbursts that echo
and leave bruised knuckles.

Dear People at the Intermountain Neuroscience Institute,
If you are reading this to fight against me, if you're trying to build a legal case against me, if you are trying to turn me into a criminal, then I would like you to know that I will not be quiet about this.
This is NOT OKAY!
https://highlandspringsclinic.org/can-emotional-trauma-cause-brain-damage/

https://www.verywellmind.com/surprising-ways-that-stress-affects-your-brain-2795040

I am not a criminal and I have not made anything up, no slander, no defamation from me. I was not stalking, I repeatedly told you trying to go other places is reliving the trauma.
I will not be quiet about this. I will not be quiet about how I was treated and not treated. I will not be quiet about either your ignorance or your fraudulence.
My brain was broken when I came to you and you broke it even more when I was begging you to listen and to help me.
"there is something pathological to that" says Concussion doctor
"thank you for acknowledging that" is my response.
But even still, she does not treat the pathology, she pushes me out with no referral and no assistance though she said she would help me find a new team. She lied and then dismissed and denied, leaving me alone in the pathology of the things they are supposed to understand and know how to treat, adding to the stress and emotional trauma.
Breaking my broken brain even more.
I will NOT be quiet about this.
And then followed by the abuses of a termination letter signed by the lady who yelled at me and threats from a lawyer for talking about what happened there.
You all do hold the cards and if you want to try and turn me into a criminal for seeking help and trying to understand what was going on with my broken head and what was going on with the man you are trying to protect, then so be it.
I will fight back and I will expose you if that is the route you want to continue on.

...holding back words and tears

...And I want to lash out again. I want to punch garbage cans. I am angry.
....
....and I am scared.
encephalomalacia

is the word running through my head.

and others...

that did not surprise me.

But I suppose I had hoped.

I had hoped that maybe it really was nothing going on with my head

I had hoped that maybe it was just a transference thing that made such a mess of me. Simply that and they were right, it was just me making a big deal out of nothing. 

But then, if nothing had showed and eeg told, then myself I would have loathed

more than I already did. 

So I have the evidence I was hiding from and even trying to hide. Hoping that hiding would make it disappear. Fake it until you make it.

The shaking in my hand. I asked about it then hid it. and allowed it to be brushed off...

I seemed better than I was because I had been through this before

and I did not want to face myself the reality of my injuries. 

My head knew what to do, how to access, and how to stay awake. My body knew how not loose consciousness this time, or at least wake up quick. And my body knew how to not be throwing up sick this time. 

...
"count backwards from 100, by sevens" asks the sports medicine doctor I saw because I could get into him sooner than a neurologist. I try and I can but it is slow and painful. My brain is rerouting and I can feel it.  It is not coming easily and naturally. I am using a different pathway. He says I did good, but I was an elementary school teacher then and those kinds of activities were daily and a particular strong suit of mine. Not a good indicator of injury for me. I made it seem easy for someone with brain injury, though it was not as easy as it had been a couple of weeks prior, before the blow to my head. 

He asks me to repeat some words. They are gone. Completely black in my head. I relax and try to utilize the tricks I have learned. I may have drawn one out without a hint. I don't remember now, but the others for sure, were gone and in that moment it kind of scares me how black and blank my mind is. I felt certain they were gone forever. But he gives a hint and magically the second word appears, but I am not sure how. This is not how my brain usually works. The last word, he gives another hint,  and there it is magically appearing from the black blank void that is happening inside of me. It is there and I can say it but I am did not picture it first, the way I usually do. He says I am doing well. Labels it a concussion. But I know I did not do well. I know he is deceived by my ability, my ability that appears stronger than it is because I have experience with this. I have been here before. It is a strange feeling and the black blank void scares me.

PTSD?

Muscle memory?

I don't know. 

But scary.

because I know the long haul
and I know
I am injured.

I know, even though I don't yet because I had not faced it or learned about it, but still I know the damage and the troubles a TBI can cause... because I have lived it. In ignorance and denial, not just by me alone but by family and those who had power and authority over me.  

...Sports medicine guy; he is the second doctor to downplay and dismiss, to avoid ordering an MRI. An MRI that would have shown what was happening and why. An MRI that would have kept me from returning to soon to the job that fired me... for attendance, memory and anxiety. 

Here and now my feelings are raw again and I feel vulnerable and anxious as I will be waiting months again to get into the "right" people who can help me understand

what is going on with my head...
...
"I am just trying to figure out what is going on with my head and I know I need to stand up for myself but I am not sure what that looks like yet," I tell the facility director that latter will yell at me for asking to be kept in house, to utilize a different neuropsychologist there at the facility I trust and is supposed to have the specialist I need for my mTBI that was maybe not so m. 

Cutting Too Deep.

I take a break from changing out bookshelves as I read about "Deadly Emotions" and I realize that I really do not hate. The description of hate does not match me nor what I feel. Or is it that I feel guilty for hating? No, I do not feel it the way it is described.
So I contemplate, "what is it that I am actually feeling?"
Hurt.
Hurt and sadness.
also confusion; should I believe the messages received?
Anger is necessary -though it too can be considered a toxic emotion- but it is necessary in order to counter those messages received... to keep me alive.
I am at greater risk for suicide because of TBI. I am at greater risk for suicide because of how my brother died. I am at greater risk of suicide because of the bipolar side.
Bipolar was manifesting itself then.
the book about deadly emotions talks about love and how being in love can effect the brain the same way drugs can. It names similar symptoms... it also sounds like mania: euphoria, no need for sleep or food...
Is this why he could not see the mania in me? Because I loved him? He was my drug?
Was I like a drug to him?
or was I simply a toy
and a game
and flattery to his ego
so he labeled it as such, maybe calling me addicted to being in love since I openly stated that I fall in love all the time, though it was not to be taken that way, worded unwise in my state of compromised.
But whether it was the drug of love, TBI, or effects from the other things going on with my brain then, one thing I am certain of: he knew better than I did what he was doing and the mistakes he made. And he held all of the cards.
He can manipulate it however he wants. He knows the industry, he knows psychology and he knows TBI.
It hurts my heart
again and deep
that he and they likely and very literally would rather I die than admit he/they made a mistake or even to simply clarify.
Hurt.
Not hate.
Hurt.
High risk for suicide
coming from at least three sides
Fighting for my life was not a lie
I know the symptoms. I know the reality. I know how and when to hide it. I know how it can hit and take a person before they even realize what they are doing if they are not aware and on constant guard when that is the ailment that plagues you.
Suicide denied.
I fight.
and I will keep fighting
because they lie
to push me to die...
They know better and if they do not then they need to. They are supposed to be the professionals. They are supposed to be the Hipocratic oath takers. They are trusted and turned to. They are paid for their expertise and help. They are the specialists, trusted and admired.
Hits.
Still taking them
The more I learn the more it helps me, yet in the light of these events the sword has another edge that hits with the knowledge that is power; thus the more I learn the more cuts I take and the more it hurts.
Ignorance may be bliss for some
but not to a broken, bipolar brain that doesn't quite work the same
...and was manipulated to take the blame.

high rates of suicide in people with TBI

The more I learn about TBI's the better I understand myself and the more valid I feel.
But I also feel increasingly more angry at the Intermountain Neuroscience Institute the more I learn about TBI.
Like "3 times more likely to commit suicide."
Freaking Jackasses
Such reckless endangerment
and how intentional was and is it?
I am so very angry with how stupid they are or how fraudulent or that they just didn't care for me and so then encouraged suicide.
I am so very angry
so very very angry.
I could be such a valuable asset to them
but instead they would rather let me and even encourage my death.
I hate them.
I hate them because I loved them
and I trusted them.
I hate them because I needed them, if they really are the experts and not frauds.
I will not back down.
I will not back down until they listen.  I will not back down until I am heard, understood, and credited, until they apologize, until they acknowledge and fix the mistakes they have made. Until they make appropriate changes
Or until the entire institution is dissolved.
THIS IS MY FIGHT!!!!!!!
And I will fight

wandering thoughts

...cont.
But the real truth is, it was not heaven at all but a combination of a whole lot of things, a whole lot of things that make both people and the industry of psychology so very complex.
"Unfortunately there is still a human element to all of this."
It was not heaven
It was mania
mixed with my trust
and admiration, appreciation and maybe a touch of infatuation
that he fed while in disguise
with his replies
of little white lies
laced with his secret desire to be between my thighs.
Not heaven but
the mystery of chemistry
being played with by the mastermind.
To bad I know
the best liars hide their lies in the truth.
I see through the disguise
but I do not despise
thus often these kind of guys
confess too freely to me
who they don't want others to see.
But I see
and so too freely they open up to me
confessing without meaning to who they are and what they do
Which is why Dr. He is so very terrified of me

It was all three.

Thus because I am a human, with a broken brain and other brain and mental health anomalies, I was highly vulnerable when I went there in the first place. In the Neuroscience Institute and with their providers (one in particular) I found hope, validation, understanding. My life was making sense from my new perspectives on brain injury. I also found a person with whom I connected easily and whose hypnotic voice calmed me. I felt safe and comfortable there. He seemed to understand how I worked and he knew how to redirect me or fill in the blanks when the blanks came. He could unscramble my scrambled words and seemed to know what I was trying to say. But in reality I likely credited him too highly because I needed what he offered so desperately. It is likely that I magnified or exaggerated his talents and abilities in my trust and flattery. But he definitely understood better so many things about me than anyone I had ever known to that point.
And of course he did. He has been studying head injury for 20 something years. He knows me so well from that context that I am not sure he even realized that is likely what he was attracted to. I was a physical manifestation of his research and the need for him and his occupation all wrapped up in an attractive enough female form. Walking, breathing, talking proof of  the importance and significance of his findings. Of course he would fall in love with me.
Plus I am fun, playful, adventurous, and I love easily. ...with legs that are long enough to wrap around the object of my affection. That is not easy to ignore by men who find themselves married to my female peers that are not so playful, adventurous, or as easily and sincerely affectionate...
While in my younger years I was not the trophy many men or boys were looking for, very many find that there trophies do not satisfy their aging adventurous spirits and the trophies rust and eventually resent what they are or what they represent.
...and I am wandering vicariously in my thoughts at the moment, allowing myself to indulge in the things I previously would/could not see. I am an anomaly to many, not entirely all that unique in my individual attributes but rather unique in their mixing and in my ability to see things for what they are.
blah blah blah. Am I allowing my head to grow big? No idea, don't really care, but I do now understand that my troubles with girls and boys now are not too far off from my troubles with them in high school. I was too easily friends with the boys, playful but not a toy, and the girls would often resent me for it. I am the same, I guess, and another way I am reliving (even still) the trauma of those days. PSTD is not over yet.
I am so far digressed now, that I don't even know what I am saying, why, or what I was initially trying to say...
Except this. I needed his expertise and I loved the package it came in. He found a manifestation of his significance and he mistook that for something else, loosing objectivity completely and at my expense.
He is a small man with a small mind or it is still possible he was grooming and he plays with his patients on a regular basis. A brilliant yet deviant mastermind that has his entire institution fooled.
It could be he was broken himself and made mistakes. It could be my own broken manic misinterpretations, yet he denies that. So then what? How deep do his transgressions go? How deep does his deception go?
Mania?
Grooming?
Countertransference?
It can't be none
but it could have been all three
which is what I feel most inclined to believe
making it ridiculously complex for me
as he tries to hide
it all
from those who need to know and who can and should hold him accountable
and stop him.
He would let me go and let me die
he will even feed the destruction of me
just to protect
what I was also trying to protect:
him.
But manipulations do not work on me
-the manifestation of his career-
because I am the missing link
in all he claims to be trying to figure out, help and understand.
If he is true and trustworthy I am not his enemy I am his answer.
If he is a fraud and a fiend than I am his fear and the one who will expose him.
The yin to the yang

I am allowing my mind freedom as
I wander
and I digress
but do I?
How right am I?
and how wrong?
He is okay with being wrong about me
But I am not okay with that
because it hurt me in many many ways
and it kept me from getting the proper help and care I needed.
And he brought with him, in his wrongness, an entire institution and my reputation.
And I am not okay with that.
Yin and Yang are out of balance
and I cannot seem to convince myself that this is only true for me
that I am the exception that
should be sacrificed for the greater good
 that they claim is only unbalanced for me or because of me.
But I am not the one that is in disguise
nor am the one
speaking the lies.
Just ask the MRI's

Warriors

Sometimes I just want to write things down. Sometimes I want to publish them even though I know it may reflect poorly on me to others.
I have had a lot in my head about warriors and mental health issues and the way they are handled. I think of warriors because we watched Free Solo, the documentary about a man named Alex Hannold who free climbed El Diablo. He is an interesting person. At one point he talks about the warrior spirit. There is also a lot of commentary about how free solo climbers are doing it for themselves and they often do not want the camera on them. It was as if it were some unwritten code of false humility or something. But Alex wanted it on camera. It was never said but it was obvious because he would tell them when he was going and other indications that Alex wanted the cameras there. Some may have that weird "you are doing it for show then" attitude and criticism but I think that is exactly what sets him a part. That is what makes him a warrior, that is the warrior spirit.
I believe that is what sets him apart from the other free soloists that all eventually died free climbing less difficult routes because he is not only doing it for himself.
I am going to diverge and wander here now.
Driving 4 hours from the southern end of my state to go to the Brain Injury Alliance conference a few months back, I had a bit of a melt down. Maybe it was too many hours alone when I was still fragile and stabilizing amidst being actively involved in emotionally taxing activities like watching niece and nephews with my mother-in-law and facing TBI realities by attending the conference. I was still very young in the stabilizing with medication. Whatever the reason, I had a bit of a melt down.
Amidst this melt down I realized I am not strong enough to fight just for me. I was not winning the battles in my head when it was just for me. I was loosing still, even with the medication. But, when I thought of my kids I had to keep fighting. I found strength to keep fighting again. In that moment I realized that I really am not strong enough just for me BUT I can be strong enough for my kids.
However, under the crushing weight of my intensities,  I also realized I am not strong enough by myself ...so I phoned a friend. Probably the first time ever in a mental battle with the dark side (that was winning). I usually face my demons alone and try not to burden others. But this time I was not strong enough and calling CP was wise. I am so grateful for her. She helped me to keep fighting.  She helped me to be a warrior.
That is the difference between a fighter and a warrior; a fighter can fight just for them self, but a warrior is not a warrior unless they are fighting for a cause -for something bigger than themselves- for others. A warrior is much stronger than a fighter for that very reason.
Alex the free soloist is a warrior because he is not just doing it for him and he draws strength from others. When he was on the wall of El Diablo with no ropes, when he would pass the scariest and hardest challenges,  he would look at the camera and smile; he was drawing strength from and celebrating with those who were there documenting his feat. I think if he were doing it only for himself, then his body would have told him to let go a hundred times and he justifiably could have  because it was for him self and he was listening to his body. But with the cameras present and with what he had eluded to previously in the documentary about how part of what drove him was the desire to be good enough in the eyes of his parents, Alex would draw strength and hold on because he knew "nobody wanted to see that" if he were to fall. I admire him for wanting to share his feat with others and for drawing strength from them. I admire him for having a true warrior spirit and determination.

And now I diverge again... I find myself annoyed with myself because it has been so very difficult to "get over" this man that I know I don't really know and that obviously does not actually care for me. He has been a literal and very solid stigmatizing, harmful, and slandering jerk. It is very confusing and annoying that my mind and heart would ever still think to care about him AND even to crave his presence and existence in my life.
So my mind still tries to make sense of why that is and I am reminded of the psychology professor that, in his bio, claimed to be researching what happens to people in therapy and the thought crosses me; "What do you do when you find heaven but heaven does not want you? Instead, expecting you to walk away and be okay."
I could go deeper into this, connecting to others and what are all too common feelings and "problems" in therapy, but I really don't want to, because it simply feels the way I said, and it is very hard to walk away from what feels like heaven, simply because heaven does not want you.
Psychology: the industry of blasphemy. And what a beautiful fucked up man.