Go BYU!
So fully of integrity. Making sure you double dip on what you charge.
Yes, I know you are watching. Analytics expose your stalking.
So I'm posting just for you this time.
The True Christians that you are.
Now who is that is actually the stalker? Or is it an exploiter?
Quit watching me and quit attacking me and then doing whatever it is you are doing with the Judge to get him to demand that I pay you for it.
It's psychotic.
And gross.
If I stop fighting this battle then what?
What do I have left to work with?
So many holes and voids from lost relationships, lost opportunities and lost potential.
But many of those opportunities, relationships and potential were not lost rather taken from me through defamation from accreditation.
If I quit fighting, then what? What is left of me after all of this?
Disability? and Disdain for it?
fatigue and failure?
Failure to prove my value as a human?
Or
All the failures of the "systems" and "institutions"
Of checks and balances
That are supposed to protect
equally
and the vulnerable especially, but not actually.
Anger.
I am left with Anger and Pain.
I am left with degradation and knowledge of incompetence being practiced at the highest levels to the detriment of the most vulnerable and most easily exploited. The Least of These.
Left knowing that he is still practicing with patients he can so easily exploit and they are allowing it and covering for him.
Or they told him and have directed him to lie and he is a victim himself- doubtful though, too much the victim played and preyed on by him.
He can and will lie to your face, but you cannot be mad because he did warn you in his cryptic and not so cryptic ways, he warned you that he would not admit to anything that might expose who he really is and what he is really up to.
Even if you catch him in the lies, the title and prestige they will not compromise
for the likes of you.
And Cortney watches with her henchman Sean, because she is pathetic and so is he. and because they thrive on the knowing they are causing pain. They thrive on knowing that they can keep the pain caused by others going indefinitely. Mercilessly.
Enjoy the publishing of anything about you -you narcissistic sadists. Then pretend like you have never read this in your pathetic attempt to deny me the satisfaction of knowing that you are paying attention to the likes of me; A satisfaction that is your own fabrication, not mine.
Keep on working to fill your life and lips with injections of products that are as fake and toxic as you are.
Keep working to crush the already crushed so you can fool people into believing the radiance reflected off of their crushed pieces are somehow reflective of your own brilliance. But you and I both know you are a mere Fabrication of Illumination. At least that is an Impressive feat for the Obsolete, I'll give you that.
Pretend. Or threaten and use it to show and say "see she's.." whatever you say to twist things your way in the moment of that day, -BYU sticker proud of your clearly defined deceit and conceit.
Keep on reading you leach
POS.
Not where I wanted to go with this today, but frankly, you were never invited -so leave. Don't you know the cool kids don't hang out here. Be gone you fascist fool, go stomp and clomp in your trying too hard heals with your Scabie Stooge Sean right at them.
Or stay and keep coming back to flatter me. But since I am being honest, I will admit, you are not a flattering audience.
It's not my thing
and it's not my scene.
But my body has changed and I am getting older.
Running does not work the same anymore, yet I still need the exercise. I also need to strengthen my core to accommodate for
the lower back injury that now objects to many things I used to enjoy, like running and sleeping on the ground in a tent.
So Gym seems like a good idea.
We have a week free, to try it out. I went once with spouse and son and it was surprisingly fun not that bad. I liked the versatility of the activities I could do, my core seems to approve, and my energy and focus felt better upon returning home from the outing.
Today son is working and spouse is snowmobiling. I have way too much to do on the legal end, but am feeling overwhelmed. So I think Gym would be a good new friend to start my day with. ...
... But somehow, all dressed up with somewhere to go, movement starts to become rather slow. I give myself the pep talk and encouragement I seem to need,.. But instead of my feet moving towards the door, tears start to flow and I find myself frozen as I stare at my exit trying muster the strength and courage to leave. I don't understand why this is hard for me and why tears are streaming down my face in response to my desire to go to the gym.
It's almost as if all my recent efforts to improve myself and society have been fraught with frustration and degradation.
Maybe that is all it is.
And I am afraid
To leave my house
and leave it alone
to try and improve the quality of me alone
in an environment that is new
but supposed to be something and somewhere built for the masses for the purpose of improving ones health...
ahh
now there it is.
blogging it out proving productive -or is it seductive- again as a few last stray tears find there way out of the mayhem inside that will forever be pressing for resolution and solution
Now...
Do I stay or do I go?
Go.
and hope for the best. as always I guess.
Except that now I am exhausted again
and tilting;
my eyes pressuring me to close
...
...
Originally published on 2/3/24 at 9:52 am
Now it 12:13 and I am back from the Gym.
It is very strange how the universe works at times for a person who rarely runs into people she knows.
As I walked the track to cool down I noticed a grey haired man shooting hoops who seemed familiar. He looked a lot my previous physical therapist. The one who had pointed out that I reminded him of his friend Jan Broberg, partly because I was behaving like someone whom had been groomed to protect their groomer. He was the physical therapist I saw after the ankle surgery that occurred amidst the ongoing malpractice, when I was mess after being "terminated" by Dr. P but still being treated by Dr. R at the same Neurosciences Institute that was denying the mania and then failing to refer so I could get appropriate care and diagnosis.
I had talked with this therapist and cried to him quite a bit about the situation I was trying to understand when I was both his patient and theirs. He was the therapist who had asked, "what's the worst possible outcome," in regards to the scenario I could not then fully comprehend or accept.
"That he's a grooming psychologist and I have to stop him," was the automatic instinctive answer I provided to him then.
As it turns out, the grey haired man shooting hoops was precisely that physical therapist. He still remembers who I am and he was curious to know if anything was ever resolved.
What an odd coincidence.
Or does God still work in mysterious ways?
Today, while we waited for my sons turn to virtually speak with the Judge in the 1st District Court, we had to wait for a hearing impaired lady, we'll call hear Ms. H, who was called to address the Court ahead of my son. It was very hard to witness as the interpreter, county prosecuting attorney, and Court tried to figure out how to effectively communicate via small virtual boxes that were broadcasting each person from entirely separate locations and when Ms. H could not see well enough what was being signed due to the limitations and complications of the virtual court environment.
It took far longer than it would have if they had all been present in the same room so it was a bit hard not to be annoyed with the 1st District for this shortsightedness. But at least the Judge and prosecuting attorney were patient with Ms. H, the interpretter, and the circumstances.
After they got all the kinks worked out well enough that communication was seeming effective, Ms. H asked for extra time to pay her $150.00 fine. It hurt my heart when she explained she was not sure if she could pay it by February because she was currently unemployed and actively searching. It hurt my heart because I know far too intimately now how discriminating people really are against differently abled people and with a disability like that it is even harder to find a job and fair pay. Although she is likely and hopefully receiving some form of SSI, I also know from family members and friends who have had to rely on SSI for disability, it really is not enough to pay for anything extra like this and I just kept hoping the prosecuting attorney and Judge would knock more of the fine off for her.
Alas, they did not.
HOWEVER
A man, we'll call him Mr. T, who was also waiting to speak with the Judge asked if he could just pay it off for her. At first we, the audience, were not sure if he was just feeling impatient with how long it was taking or if he was genuinely wanting to help this lady out the way my heart wanted to (-but cannot because my extra money has to now go to IHC's own attorneys because they are very effective at misrepresenting things and especially me and my own assigned Court buys in)-. The Court initially seemed to be ignoring Mr. T, but as he persisted, it became obvious that his intention was honest and made out of compassion. Still the Court had not acknowledged his offer and considering how the 3rd District Court has treated me in regards to disability related issues, I was genuinely fearful the 1st District Court might chastise this man for speaking out of turn AND somehow take it out on Ms. H.
But alas, THEY DID NOT.
Finally, having worked out the kinks of communication, the Court acknowledge Mr. T as a "good Samaritan" offering to pay and asked Ms. H if she would be willing to accept the offer. She asked, "can I pay you back?"
To which Mr. T simply answered, "no."
The interpreter explained that it was not a loan but a gift and Ms. H graciously accepted.
Of course the Judge called Mr. T's case next and even announced, in a playful way, that if any of the rest of us waiting wanted to move our own cases up in the line, we could make a good Samaritan offer. The country prosecuting attorney also jumped on the bandwagon of good deeds and reduced Mr. T's own fine to zero dollars. He still got the reduced speeding charge but no fine.
What a nice change. And what a breath of fresh air.
But the fresh air did not even end there.
When it was my son's turn, neither my husband nor I got chastised or accused of "practicing law without a license" for assisting my son with speaking. Nor did we get told answering our questions would be giving legal advice. In fact, the Court actually offered to assist and told us how and what my son needed to do for the discovery process AND the County prosecuting attorney even offered his assistance with that. No guessing or chastising for not knowing, no degradation for even asking. It was a good thing my husband was here to encourage my son to ask, because, after all we have been through with that same District and in my case in the 3rd District, he was terrified to ask or say anything.
Speaking of terrified, you should have seen both my son's and husband's reactions when I attempted to respond to Mr. T, via side chat, to let him know he should be able to pay that to the court, without the Judge's permission or approval, with just Ms. H's name. While waiting, unknowing if the Court would respond to or acknowledge Mr. T's offer, and wanting to try and prevent him from being chastised, I wanted so badly to make sure Mr. T knew how he could follow through with his offer of help. I also wanted to thank Mr. T for his acknowledgement of Ms. H's hardship and his compassion as teared welled, But alas my own dear family has been so scarred now by the courts' reactions to me in regards to my own disabilities that the fear of involvement was understandably too high and I had to refrain for their sakes. Tears welled even more knowing this.
Stark Contrast.
At least some faith in humanity and our courts in general have been restored for a moment.
Jumping through everyones hoops
only to find the hoop is a lie
into an abyss of lies
that drowns humanity, civility, justice and truth.
Hoops of Lies
aka
Our Judicial System
Bipolar?
TBI?
Welcome to the Land of the Least of These.
Just before my demise into mania, when I was resting on the brink of insanity -but at a point that was still quite preventable had my medical team intervened- I went for a run with my dog in the foothills of the rugged Rockies I live by.
Shortly after I had turned to head back to my car, I heard a cry in the distance. It was far off and indistinguishable at that distance, but loud enough to be of concern to me. I paused and listened. I heard nothing. I started walking again and the call came again. It was coming from the opposite direction that I was now going. I was tired having already gone the distance I had intended to go but this cry intrigued and concerned me. It was not the normal yell of playful persons bouncing their voice off the great rocky walls towering above and it was not the time of day that such playful echoing banter would normally occur. As I slowly walked in the opposite direction towards my car my thoughts were disturbed with visions of newscasters announcing the disappearance or demise of a hiker in the area and I could not ease my conscience enough to ignore this possible cry for help. So equally-curious-dog and I turned to investigate. My speed increased when the cry came again, knowing that this cry for help would mean desperation indicative of injury that could be fatal if left without aid for too long
As I got closer to the area of the cries, I'd pause and listen. As the cries became more clear they sounded less human like. When I got close enough I could hear whining, yelping, and whimpering sounds that had not been audible further back and it became more evident that this noise was not from a person but an animal. It sounded to me like an injured dog and since these foothills were not far from the homes of potential pet owners and playful echoers I considered this possibility as I cautiously continued, hyper aware as I scanned for indications of location. Occasionally the sounds seemed thrown, as if they were coming form both sides of the trail I was on.
I continued until the sounds were directly above me. Then I noticed movement in the brush about 100 feet up the slope to the side of the trail I was on. It was a semi-steep slop and I wondered if it was worth checking out because I really had no way of helping an injured animal in this location and with my young dog accompanying. As I thought this, the brush started to move in careful waves that were heading down towards me and my dog. I repositioned myself. Ready to react, I watched until I caught the necessary glimpses that revealed who the maker of the sounds was.
A coyote.
And as he made a few confident and fearless bounds over thick brush, heading down towards us, I knew this animal was not injured and that my young k9 companion would make an easy snack for him.
All thoughts of injured hikers gone, my thoughts swiftly shifted to my and my pups safety as I instantly realized that the thrown sounds coming from the direction opposite the rocky echoing walls could easily be companions to this trickster who had been working to draw me in. My second wind set me into action as I made big noises and ran back the way we had come.
Dog and I made it safely back to the truck with no issues and seemingly un-pursued. But always curious and being the research nerd I am, we waited for a bit in the safety of my vehicle as I delved into the sounds of coyotes via my research apparatus, my phone. Although no coyotes reappeared as I researched, I learned a bit about how dynamic and versatile their language is and I was reminded of their wiliness and trickery.
Coyotes do in fact lure other creatures into traps through various calls that include sounds that feign injury and they maximize the effectiveness of this deceptive practices by working together in groups.
A different and new intrigue I found in my research was information about the coyote as a spirit animal and what the appearance of this creature meant from an ethereal and spiritual perspective. I do not now remember what the connective symbolism was that so intrigued me and I do not wish to delve too deep back into that divinatory aspect of this event but now from, this place in time and stability, it is interesting to see that the coyote was the first spirit animal apparition to appear; prescient to the trail of tears that followed.
Another thing about coyotes is that they are no respecters of person or creature and they have even been known to steal small humans from the perceived safety of the wee lasses' own yards.
It is a mournful realization that those are the types of creatures controlling the systems of checks and balances that are supposed to be protecting us and humans in our civilized societies and governments. Wily coyotes who beckon you in by tricking you into believing that you are answering the call of duty to help others and yourself, only to find that you are the prey who has been lured into a trap that was actually only intended, by the wily coyotes who set them, to feed their own.
Dear Nelson and Naegle Attorneys,
You are genuinely bad people.
And what fun for you to check and see how you are doing with me.
Laugh and pass and let it guide you in your bullying strategy.
*If you are a person checking to see if you want Nelson and Naegle to represent you,
here is my review, If you are dishonest and looking to get away with it, these are definitely the attorneys for you -granted the other party does not have greater resources than you and can hire an attorney who is actually good at what they do.
They are not likely to succeed in an honest court with and honest Judge and they are not likely to succeed against a skilled attorney who does more that arrogantly tout repeated phrases that prey on a judges biases.
They are skilled at mischaracterizing the other party and the evidence and overconfidently presenting themselves. They are so skilled at overconfidently presenting whatever they present that it can be the most flawed logic and mischaracterization of law and opposing party but the Judge will still believe them, especially if you are going up against a pro se litigant.
However, they will milk your case as much as you will allow them to and they will not inform you of your legal rights, protections and obligations. For example if you are a healthcare provider looking to use them they are legally obligated to inform you of candor processes and that you are heavily protected by law if you admit your mistake and work to correct it. But I have a recorded conversation with them in which they declare they would never tell you to have a conversation with your client in order to try and settle the issue.
If you are healthcare provider, you should also know that the data and statistics support that the overwhelming majority of patients have no desire and will not pursue any legal action if you, their healthcare provider, acknowledge your mistake[s]. The patient is even less likely to pursue legal action if you do anything to correct your mistake. But it is unlikely Nelson and Naegle attorneys will tell you this.
They will vilify and abuse your patient for you to the Court and in Court and drag it out as long as they can, milking every penny of malpractice insurance they can- so if that is what you are looking for, these are your guys- but also you should NOT be a healthcare provider if you want to hire people like this to use against your patients when you have made a mistake -especially correctable and mitigable mistakes.
My printer is having an identity crises. It is not sure what it identifies as and what it wants me to identity it as keeps changing. It is very frustrating for me because if I don't guess the correct identity it will not work for me at all. It used to be I just needed to select the other identity option but now it won't even work when I try to address it using the other identity option we have previously worked together with.
Now I have no idea how my printer identifies or how to get it working for me again. Stupid identity dilemmas.
Quit changing your identity printer. Just be a printer and work when you are supposed to work.
Paper lights up fast
and burns out fast
but I am not paper
and I refuse to die
even when that is exactly what I am supposed to
or expected to
do.
I recognize them as symptoms which is how I beat it every time. It is only by recognizing that it is a symptom that you can overcome the underlying that is causing the symptom; whether that be a medical problem, a societal problem, or somewhere in between and combined.
Right now it is cultural and societal issues that are causing the symptoms and exacerbating the underlying that tells me to succumb to the inevitable because I am nothing and of no value -and that is very unfair.
But I have been knocked down before and I have gotten up every other time, even if sometimes it has taken months to years to get back up, so I'll do it again.
Let them document their bad behavior.
You cannot prevent them from destroying themselves and you cannot protect them from themselves.
I wish I could protect the innocent who trust them, but I am not allowed.
So underground I will go, letting them think they have won, but still fighting to save whom I can one at a time when the opportunity presents.
I will never disappear and I will never agree to be what they have made me out to be nor what they have tried to force me to be.
Keep manipulating the laws and the truth to suit your egos and your paychecks.
I am your civil disobedience.
Self harm, often in the form of cutting, is a quit popular coping strategy among adolescents these days. Which I think is sad when there are so many healthy alternatives.
Like running.
In high school and junior high I was a distance runner. I ran cross-country in the fall and track in the spring. In high school I joined the swim team so I had that to keep me active, busy and pushing the pain outlet boundaries all school year long.
My peers often said I must be masochist to enjoy running, especially at my speeds. Maybe they were right (although not by the "sexual pleasure" definition) as these activities also helped to combat depression far more than I understood at the time. While there may have been something to the pain causing of this outlet, it helped to combat depression in many other ways; the physical activity helped and the social interaction helped. Being and feeling part of a team, having friends, goals, people who cared about you all helped.
I wish I could teach that to others, especially to teens, these days. I wish I could help as a licensed therapist and psychologist certified educator because, like it or not, when you have that title people listened better and trust you more and you have significantly more opportunities to address larger audiences. But those opportunities have been denied to me and even stripped from me...
I'd say, "oh well," but I don't really mean it because it hurts. But that is not what I wanted to write about, maybe I need to allow a tear or two to fall though, in order to healthily grieve that significant and painful loss and maybe that is why it came out here and now...
But now I am going to turn my thoughts to what I really wanted to do; write casually and even playfully about running on a team and how that can relieve a lot of pain while causing pain.
"Run 'til you hurl!"
David, I believe that was his name, the boy who would push himself so hard he'd throw up. It was discouraging to him and even embarrassing that he could not push himself hard enough to be one of the best. But he was still there trying and pushing and, instead of shaming him for his embarrassing reaction of throwing up after a race, we, as a team, embraced him and his curse by making it our motto. Thus began tradition of shouting "Run 'til you hurl" as our team cheer just before the beginning of each race. We even preserved this silly camaraderie by making it our team t-shirt. The image was created by one of our teammates; a-stickfigure-esgue outline that at first glance just looked like a cool lined design but upon further inspection was realized to be a figure hunched over hurling to match the motto that was printed on the shirts.
Personally, I never could never quite push myself that hard. Nor could I push myself as hard as Violet, the slightly to very odd duck that decided to run track our sophomore year. Now Violet was one of those people that nobody can quite figure out. She's intelligent in many ways but likely low scoring on IQ tests. One of the things that was particularly odd about Violet was that she would often moan and groan as she was running as if she were in great agony. But she also seemed oblivious to social cues and how behaving like this would effect others opinion and comfort with her. Although we did observe the practice of moaning and groaning while running did seem to have interesting effects on the other teams' runners. Ultimately Violet's obliviousness was probably a good thing for her because, although she often made others quite uncomfortable and was often over-dramatic, she was generally happy and oblivious to the reactions people would sometimes have to her.
Katie was another distance runner. Only Katie was a senior, established runner, and very NissanZ-driving-cool. Although well known she was not one of the most popular but only because she really was too cool for that. If she hadn't been a runner she was the type of girl you'd expect to see Jame's Dean style leaned up against the corner of the school smoking, but never smelling of it and, albeit cool and collected, too tough to be harassed by any teachers.
Naturally Violet, was especially annoying to Katie. But Katie would usually just roll her eyes and walk away from the annoyance trying to ensure she gave Violet no reason to think they were in anyway friends. But Violet did not get the hint as was solidly confirmed on the day Katie and Violet were both assigned to run the mile race. I am not sure why I was not running the mile that day, it was my usual event and I was almost always the fastest, but I also ran the two-mile, 800meter and the 400 meter (my least favorite) and the coaches usually would not put you on the 1 mile and 2 mile on the same day, so I got to watch and man am I glad I did.
As Violet, who was quite far behind Katie, rounded the corner of her second to last lap she very dramatically, and with much moaning and groaning, collapsed, and dragged herself off of the track as if she had pushed herself just as hard as she possibly could and beyond. Katie, shortly after rounded this same corner in one of the top three positions, well ahead of the majority runners. But as she approached Violet's corner, you could see Violet, in her arms-propped-side-lying position lifts herself just enough to yell very loudly -shockingly loudly for a person who had just collapsed off of the track- "GO KATIE, GO KATIE, DO IT FOR ME, DO IT FOR ME!" Even from the complete opposite side of the quarter mile track you could see Katie's eyes narrow into a death-threatening glare as her always-straight-forward face went beat red and visibly hesitated for just a moment making us all fear she would stop and walk right off the track in the opposite direction just to ensure that Violet knew she was NOT going to do ANYTHING for her.
It was SOOO FUNNY! And after that Katie let her disdain for Violet flow freely from her lips as she admitted our fear of her throwing the race was precisely on her mind in that moment. Fortunately she did not unleash on Violet, and only to those of us who understood the whole situation. And fortunately, as pissed as it made Katie, she still was able to laugh or at least allow us to laugh about it.
But, although it ended for Katie and the other team members who graduated that year and Violet who quit running shortly after that race, the story did not end there as we took these comical observances with us into the cross-country season the next year.
.
At some point, early on during practices for the cross-country season of my junior year, when we were missing and reminiscing Katie and Addy (the other too-cool-previous-year-senior), we began discussing Violets odd habit of moaning and groaning. This lead to the collective decision that maybe were should try it to see if it somehow helped. So we started moaning and groaning as we ran, our coach Bob, who would run with us, not at all sure what to make of us but unable to completely hide his amusement. Of course it just made us laugh so hard we could hardly run at all, but somehow this experiment still evolved into a very bizarre team ritual.
In our analyzing discussion we noted our observances of the effects Violet's moaning and groaning would have on the other team members. Often people would suddenly drop back from her, not sure make of it. Usually they'd pick their pace up again and wide-birth-style pass her, but for those of us who were in ranking positions, we recognized that this little drop back by the other team could be just enough to give us the winning edge. Soooo
We had to try it out. We, the girls cross-country team, decided to do it for Violet! and at the beginning of the next race, right after the gun fired and everyone started the running, we all, and yes all, let out a huge overly-dramatic moaning-groaning breath and then just kept on running, holding our laughter until after the race. Sure enough, it worked. It shocked the other team so much that they did hesitate and look around in confusion as we all got out with great controlled start.
Thus began the second ritual of the my last two years of high schools cross-country: 1st "RUN 'TIL YOU HURL!" 2nd a very loud moaning and groaning at the beginning of the race, even at State.
So Run 'til you hurl and moan and groan if you need to but whatever you do, don't quit running!
DOPL Panel. Reviewing their bullshit decision in preparation for taking on the ... I can't find words vile enough to describe the creatures I am preparing to take on... and rage is rising.
Rage that is born of necessity. The fight of life. To be so dismissed and dehumanized. To be treated with so much degradation in tone and declaration by people who are "highly qualified" and to know that these egregious egos are teaching others the same forms and levels of discrimination.
It is more than I can bear.
And the anger keeps my heart beating. keeps it from breaking and keeps me breathing.
To deny myself of this rage would be to accept a defeat that is so demoralizing and so dehumanizing that a person becomes less then the dog shit left on the lawn waiting to be scooped and discarded so as not to taint the perfectly manicured palaces' of power and prominence.
But I am not dog shit and treating me as such, while recognizing the fertilizing power of bullshit -your warped facade of caring- does not protect you, your ego, your profession and especially not your patients. In fact you compromise all but your disgusting and fragile ego.
I am angry and
I am human.
But you, you are the reason Suicide is going up, not down, and you are the demise of your patients, not the prize and not their savior. You are degradation and death. How much blood is are on your hands? Does your fragile ego feel threatened by this truth? Will you deny it and increase harm just to prove your power to yourself?
I hate you, not me, and I am more human than you will ever be because at least I know what I am and what I am not and I do not use that to demean and dehumanize the marginalized. I do not blame and shame the innocent for the mistakes of my colleagues and comrades. I do not blame the cripple for his ailments.
to stay quiet is too much because I, like Semmelweis, know the lives you are costing because of your blind ego and pride.
"It's going to be the same thing," I hear myself saying, "nobodies ever really what they say they are."
Which I guess is what sets me apart. I really, genuinely am who I say I am and it is surprising how much that scares and confuses people.
Oh well. and I have come to realize that their fear, their distrust and their distortions of me are reflective of them and not me. They fear and distrust because they fear and distrust themselves, not me, as they work diligently to distort others perceptions of them.
Being genuinely you can cause other problems too. Like being perceptive to attributes of others -that they may or may not want others to see or recognize about themselves- and then calling them out without even realizing you are doing it. But maybe this problem of mine is not due to my being genuinely me but rather due to knowing what it's like to be me and not me at the same time; a phenomenon you are not likely to recognize you are experiencing unless you have had a TBI or battled loosing your mind to mania or some other mental illness -that is just as much a physical illness and medical condition as any other physical or medical condition. TBI's also have a tendency to create lowered inhibitions in the survivor.
It's funny how the attribute of lowered inhibitions is so acceptable and excusable if you are drinking or if a person has worked for decades to achieve it while it is shunned and shamed in those who have this as a direct result of head trauma.
And so I ramble on today the many things that would like to be let out of my brilliant contained brain...
Which reminds me of a phenomenon-al notice I have recently re-noticed about APA (American Psychological Association) affiliated professionals and those in the counseling and psychology oriented professions and it is this: Their seems to be a craving and unspoken desire by those counselors and therapist to be the object of obsessive affection of one of their patient/clients. They brag and pride themselves in their "crazy" client that just could get enough of them and that they had to cut of in their confidently cold and calloused clout that they are beaming proud to own. It is really very interesting and surprising there has not been more conversation about how the therapist might subconsciously, and at times maybe even consciously, be first creating the craving and then punishing the vulnerable and highly susceptible patient for it. And I wonder how many therapists, counselors, etc have noticed or realized that the crazed patient may not really be as obsessed and possessed as their greedy needy therapists are claiming them to be after rejecting them for their therapist taught dependency and affection that rejection is sure to ignite.
Brilliantly contained can often be hard to explain. Did you follow?
It's interesting and another phenomenon I'd sure like to research but one that would likely not garner much support for from the APA and those professionals whose need and crave being the object of obsessive affection.
It saddens me how little regard IHC has for me as a patient and as a human being. It saddens me how calloused and condoning they are of serious unethical and even illegal behavior against patients. It hurts my heart and today I feel sad and slow for it.
And why do I feel the need to publish these feelings and facts? When I know it is most likely the only people reading this are those who derive pleasure in knowing that they are succeeding in degrading me and beating me down. Those that will smile and think they are winning and getting close to causing me to cave with their cold, malicious and unethical approaches ...
"Why?" I am asking myself out loud, "...do I feel the need to publish this?"
Maybe I want them to know exactly what they are doing and the effect they are in fact having. Maybe knowing that they know helps me keep fighting. Maybe knowing that they know eases my mind and conscience before God and I am trusting that He will be the ultimate judge of their character and of how knowing this influenced their future actions against me and others. Maybe that is why.
Or maybe I am still foolishly hopeful that they will stop being such jerks to me or at least to others in the future if they know just how devastating their blows are... It's sad that this is a foolish belief.
The world is weird to me and people are so weird to me in their desire to harm others ..and this is weighing me down right now.
Just so you know.
But to those who derive pleasure in the harm you know you have caused and continue to cause, someday it will catch up to you and I pity you for how bad you are going to feel when you finally understand or have to face the music for the harm you are causing and exactly what you are doing to people. I pity you and doubt you will fare so well.
So good day and you have not won yet.
