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.

The stings that can kill

The worst lie:
“I would always want to protect you...”
No, you would not. You did not when it was your job to. You used me.
Right now I need protecting that I would not have needed if you had actually had my best interest in mind, if you actually cared, wanted, or tried to protect me.
It was a lie
an A manipulation
solid evidence of your lies.
And the words haunt me and sting harsh again, in this moment that I need protection.
...which makes me think of my two last physical stings from the flying yellow and black creatures that sting. Both within the last two years, both turned into cellulitis and I had to take medications to stop the severe overreaction from spreading... My body reacted too extreme...
This seems a familiar theme.
The stings that turn into life threatening infections...
from the deceptive creatures who do not love me.

Favorite Quotes of the moment

"You lose a leg or a kidney, you're still you, but you lose a part of your brain -literally, lose your mind - and who are you then?"
   -Lori Gottlieb

"She is not herself. You have no idea what she is fighting."
   - The character Finn in Star Wars: the Rise of Skywalker.

A long day

EEG and MRI results turned into a long day.
Kids coming was a definite positive.
Now, mostly, I need to go to bed.
But I just have to say
Turns out
By Brain really is a fascinating place!
So fascinating that the day ended (I just returned home) with yet another brain scan.
And this is all so funny to me.
HA HA HA HA HA
and that is all I will say about that.
Goodnight.

"Try not to think about what might have been..."

Dr. She tells me I present very well, but regardless she says "at the moment they felt you were stalking they should have had you admitted."
 And I have to say I full heartedly agree with that, because that would have been back in January as there is sufficient evidence in medical records and email that this was being suggested by the Institutionees even back that far.
If that had happened I would likely have tried to convince them that I did not need to go... but maybe I would not have. Either way, the mere suggestion of it would have sent me into a strange fit that would not have been deniable and made clear that I needed the added care and observation.
Had I been hospitalized/institutionalized at that point the providers at whatever facility would have seen the varying degrees and the bizarre rapid cycling mood instability I was experiencing. I most certainly would have then been put on the mood stabilizer that Dr. Concussion saw and acknowledged I needed but avoided providing due to her conversation with Dr. He and the proceeding labeling of me as a Liability.
I would have received the care I needed and the stupid romantic transference-countertransference feedings would have ended then and there.
But alas, it is far too complex -Or is it diabolical?- in that they were, or he was, not actually concerned about me stalking but was rather trying to build that image of me. The concern about it was not actually there, rather it was their attempts to build a case against me... 
Conspiracy theory?
Unfortunately it is not. and even if it had merely been their attempts to make me appear to be a stalker that they had me admitted for it would have been a good move for me, because I desperately needed that kind/level of care, assessment, evaluation, observation and medication.
This really is the reality the evidence suggests. So many questions beg to be answered like, did they keep me untreated on purpose, not have me admitted because that could potentially work against them in the mistakes that had been made? I would not think so and actually I know so, because it would have been so much better to get the help then and to reconcile.... Unless of course they were the frauds it appears they may be... and so it goes, reality meets insanity and who is really crazy here? Because the truth is I was not stalking, I was there seeking help. I was trying to understand what was going on with my head while trying to protect Dr. He the way he had manipulated or conditioned me too and because I really did genuinely care for him.
I have wondered about that, if it was genuine or the product of manipulation.
Dr. She answered this question for me when I asked how it was that my heart physically hurt for the entire time between the appointment Dr. P dropped me and when I finally got back to him two weeks later. I wanted to know how it was that just seeing him and when I was with him those last two appointments my heart had settled and did not hurt, but would continue to again (though to a lesser degree) after I left He. Dr. She said it is because I genuinely cared for him.... and I know this it true... because, stupidly even still, I still do. Even though he deserves it not at all and even though I have to turn him in because there is a chance he is a master manipulator who plays with his patients regularly AND because I am worth standing up for. I am worth being heard and respected and -now this is leading into a post I have been meaning to write- it is reckless and scary that they would deny mania and mess with me the way they did. There is or are many things very wrong with how I was handled and THAT is why I cannot just let it go.  They are medical providers that behaved incredibly irresponsibly, carelessly and recklessly and even if I really truly am an isolated incident, I deserve to have this addressed and actions and records corrected appropriately on my behalf. They cannot deny mania, that is morally, ethically, occupationally, and medically wrong and it was very dangerous and irresponsible.
Not going to edit yet, actually time to get going.
Good Morning.
ps- the majority of my post titles are meant to be humorous. They at least make me laugh in spite of some not so funny stuff they address.

many hands make light work

Sleep deprived? Definitely. Though at the moment, aside from the occasional yawn, I am not feeling it.
I opted to sleep in the extra bedroom so as not to keep my husband up, especially since he went to bed not feeling too well. He thought he was just overly tired. However, not sleeping myself, I could hear him across the hall not sleeping well at all. I decided to head to my bed knowing that I often sleep better when he is by my side. He had been sick. He is sick now.
He is hot and cold, sweating while cold to touch, tossing and turning and he has now had to escape to the bathroom 3 times to wretch his insides out.
It is very unpleasant for him and I hate that I am powerless.
As I listen to him hurling in the bathroom I am reminded of when I had my daughter. I remember how I only puked three days; the day when I found out I was pregnant, the day I found out she was a girl and the day I had her. All three for various reasons that were probably not so much morning sickness. In fact the day I had her it was because I had been induced with an induction that was too hard and too fast. I had been induced after having labor stopped about 2 weeks prior, because she was too small.
And the story is very fascinating really, as my stories so often are. For example, I didn't know I was in labor, couldn't feel the contractions until after they had medicated me to stop them. It was only caught because I was measuring too small, too small despite the fact that I had gained about twice what is considered "healthy pregnancy weight gain," but it was okay because my almost 5'7" athletic frame started the pregnancy at about 103 lbs. Induced because her heart rate dropped while being monitored, it turned out her umbilical cord was too short, and yet she still scored a perfect 10 on the Apgar. The first or one of very few the midwife had ever given. She was shocked considering. So basically after my daughter had the heart stopping thrill of bungee-ing out of me she scored a 10 on the Apgar. That's just how we role in this family.
Those are just a touch of the peculiarities of my pregnancy I was reminded of as I am listen to my poor husband puking his guts out the way I did 6 times that first night I found out I was pregnant when he was out of town. And as I think of this and my mind then wanders on to so many details of our life together, our children, etc, I am struck by just how little we ever get to share or know of the back stories that are so very influential to our lives.
Back stories; we know so little of each other.
And another story I want to share, as I am attempting to achieve that sleep deprived feeling -but I think it best to post is as it's own post.
Which may make these posts appear to be evolving into magnificent mania and surely this is mimicking the start, but so far I am not feeling the push back or high feelings so hopefully after EEG is completed and the systems are medicated again we will not cross over. (we being all of the me's ... and I am reminded of: "but my personality is still changing too much" I pleaded the day he dropped me unexpectedly).

Bright eyed and bushy tailed ...at 3am

Sleep deprived
I will definitely be that.
My daughter is who I am having come with
to be sure I can safely make the long drive (she is a driver now so she can take over if I can not)
and be the extra set of ears.
She loves biology and is thinking about going into medicine.
Seemed like an okay choice
But I am not sleeping.
I have a bit
-a bit-
but my whole right leg is hurting
since physical therapy on Friday
that triggered a pretty severe pain in the appendix region... that still hurts
and my right leg feels week and sore.
my back
the part that has the bulging disc has been acting up
and it is a bit sore but not like the appendix region
maybe it is appendicitis ?
I am tired. I feel even a bit nauseous
is it appendicitis or is it tired?
my brain is bothered
it seems like he knew stuff about this and the possible tie to head injury
He who broke me and worried only about saving himself?
Why head, why?
The repeat starts
 of words and phrases, feelings and figurings...
What was real? what was perceived?
But I know, as I have a million times, but wanted to deny to myself and everyone,
that he had played with me... when he should not have.
Grooming of some form or another
 the fire he played in and then tried to let die...
Intentional? Accidental?
 Was I the first or the last in a long line of many? Somewhere in between?
He played
"don't try to solve this"
"I told you not to try and solve this"
"I have tested your brain in ways you don't even know"
"What we have had is a beautiful thing and I would not want to fuck that up"
"I don't need more friends"
"I meant everything that I said"
.... repeats
that started right away
-my fight or flight-
the natural reaction to a threat
...a threat
punished for loving
the threat?

and I am
so delicately balanced.

my whole right leg is weak
Maybe I should text my dad. he rises early. he could take me
my children should not have to shoulder this burden
 this burden that I am
but my dad...
My family
they do not understand and they do not want to.
they want to maintain there illusions that doctors are...
godlike?

Dr She, literally my hero, because without her intervention... I can't say where I would be
...faded and fading when I got to her.
Dr. She is not a fan of Dr. He
I understand why now.
At first when I went to her I still loved him in a silly childish and manic fed way. I still held onto what I wanted to believe: that he meant no harm, he made mistakes, and if only I could clarify and fix my mistakes he would come to his senses and fix, or -at very least- play fair. 
Dr. She does not care about his motives they way I do. She cares about how it has effected me. Dr. She may or may not think I am worth standing up for and fighting for, but she does her job and feels responsibility for my safety and wellbeing... she says he is an idiot and at best was negligent at worst was malicious.
Dr. She wants me to be able to look back on Dr. He and roll my eyes.
She lets me talk about him still, when I need to, because I am making progress in processing and handling the trauma
and I am being responsible.
Talking to her is not "governing myself accordingly" based on the commands of the Institute's lawyer, because they do not want me talking to his colleagues. 
Their demands and commands are not right. They are unjust and unconstitutional and their accusations false.
Delicately balanced it is
Reckless endangerment.
Viktor Frankl is who I become now
Not literally, but figuratively
or rather like him
in that to survive this incredibly delicate balancing act
-of psychology, really-
I observe myself and my psychology with the mind of a scientist.
a slight form of detachment probably
when I am so very attached
and I remember that earlier today
I like me even if others do not
and I have people that are supportive and that are looking out for me in their own playing-it-safe kind of ways.
I am loved and I am appreciated
...even if, at times, it is only by myself and God.
I like me
because I am tenacious
and forgiving
I try
I make mistakes
I take responsibility for my mistakes
I love
I play
I find and make adventures
I have met some of the most amazing and incredible people and I am so very lucky to have and to have had the acquaintances I have.
Life is a beautiful thing
and I love it and appreciate it
even when I don't -a place that I am so grateful I am no longer in.
So delicate balance for a day.
might make a mess of the holidays
 but I'll recover
and find my adventures again.
...now
I sure hope that I will at least feel as sleep deprived as I will be at 10am
Goodnight again
... though I doubt I'll sleep
I am WIDE awake
hopefully ibuprofen will relax things enough..
ha
literally the lol variety-
a ha-ol
... big yawn as I proof read
-this is hope :)
goodnight

Sleep deprived, EEG, what adventure shall we see?? ...what me will I be?

Since I now have medical providers that actually give a shit and listen I go in for an EEG tomorrow. The neurologist, Dr. Odd, that I finally got into wants to see if he can find anything that would explain the tremors. The tremors that Concussion doctor ignored... or rather suggested I see a neurologist for but did not refer, ultimately claiming I should have the wrist orthopedic surgeon who first suggested it refer. I bring this up again because it was an inappropriate way for the Concussion doctor who had asked to be my primary care for anything car accident related and head injury related. I bring this up again because it annoys the hell out of me how some people I know and the Neuroscience Institute want to blow me off and brush me off and act like it was: a. that I did and/or are doing something wrong and/or b: I find myself having to defend myself to people who don't want to take the time to think about or understand what happened and why it is a big deal. 
...I think I am not so bitter until I start to write, than I realize I am and I am also very angry. But you would not know this in observing my everydayness. You would not know this because I continually choose not to be, and so I am mostly not. However, there is obviously some deep resentment, because it sure comes out here.
So back on track
I have an EEG tomorrow morning at 10:00am and I am supposed to arrive sleep deprived. The instructions are very specific in their instructions to "go to bed and midnight and get up at 4:00am."
.... meds?
that was my question for Dr. Odd after the office lady went over the sheet of instructions with me.
I know if I take my new meds at the regular scheduled time I will not be able to stay awake until midnight. If I take them later then I will have an extremely difficult time getting up in the morning... I'll have an extremely difficult time getting up at 4 am if I take the new meds at all...
So, what do I do?
They kind of left it up to me.
Maybe don't take the meds.. I think that may have been the suggestion.
... that is what I have opted for so far.
And
This has made me nervous.
I find myself being extra busy tonight and even extra productive.
I think I am much more nervous about this idea of messing with meds much more than I care to admit to myself.
I am only slightly tired and, as you can see, it is after midnight.
...and when I say slightly tired that might be an exaggeration.
I am kind of scared as hell at the moment.
I have been so much enjoying the levelness I have been experiencing on medication and the recent upping has been working out very well. I still am a bit triggered as evidenced in my last post but I recover quickly and am even gaining some confidence in myself, starting to care less about the people who want to blame and shame and don't want to understand. I am able to be my happy self with out the overly chemically too high feelings. I still have some residual mental messes to undue from too many months of fantasy feeding by the forbidders that made me taboo (as manifested in my initial digression in this post) but I am managing that much better and progress is now real.
So I am leery and nervous. I am not sure how best to handle and medicate.
I am curious too.
So my plan is, don't take the meds tonight (or rather last night since tomorrow is now today) so that I will not fall asleep too soon and so I will be able to wake up early enough. That way I will certainly be sleep deprived... except that I have noticed that with out the meds I don't really feel tired and considering the sleep chaos of this last year that started with the denied mania of November of last year, I feel very nervous about this lack of tiredness without medication. And honestly, I am scared. I am scared I might undue the stability, I might mess up a good thing with how the mood stabilizing medication has been working...
But alas, writing it out is assisting in some fatigue so I will retire to bed now to stay as close to the prescribed directions as I can. ... I'll even wait to edit until tomorrow.
It will be very interesting to see how this adventure plays out.
Good night.

pain in the...

I wish I was more okay than I am. I wish I was at least as okay as I appear to be most of the time. I wish my confidence was not so shot.

I am not fueled by revenge and and "stick it to them" attitude. It would be very helpful right now if I were. But instead I am more inclined to believe them and then I feel pretty shitty about me since I have learned from many thems that I am not worth standing up for or helping, and I am a "pain in the ass."

The "not worth standing up for" bit bothers me as this is the message I seem to be receiving. As long as my motives are about others, and not me, then it is okay for me to stand up and speak out, but even if it is agreed that I was "wronged" and treated poorly, too often the expectation is that I should just accept that and forget about it. Doesn't matter who or why or even that these were medical providers that should know and behave better and were morally, legally, ethically, and occupationally supposed to protect me and look out for my best interest. Doesn't matter how this has and continues to effect the treatment I receive from others including these friends and loved ones who are inclined and conditioned to highly value and trust the experts (just as I was and had).  Nope, it does not matter if it is about standing up for me or about fixing and resolving things for me. It somehow has to be about and for others. I am supposed to allow them to mistreat me. I am supposed to forget about it and move on, because it is just about me. 

I feel angry about that. 

I feel jealous of others who have friends and family who say, "that is not okay," and rally and defend. Mine say, "you were wronged, we care about you, you are not alone, now be quiet about it and get over it." 

That is not entirely the message and not from the entire family but the majority. 

This confession, to many, will simply prove that I must not be worth it. So I hope you understand why people in general might succumb to such messages of worthlessness. 

However, I hope it will also be considered that maybe it is ties like this that have contributed to the problem with the providers. 

I am an easy target.

On paper I am the prime target for grooming 

and/or an easy casualty to write off and forget about. 

And to me, that makes this situation of mine so much more wrong

And I find myself wanting to explode and lash out and at least do something to deserve the labels, stigmas, misconceptions, defamations, slanders, and write offs.

"If you can't beat them join them" comes to mind

and "going down in a blaze of glory"

I feel

therefore I am?

FUCK YOU JP AND YOUR MARIONETTES

FUCK YOU FRIENDS AND FAMILY WHO ROLE YOUR EYES AND SAY ONE THING BUT DO SOMETHING ELSE

AND WHO CALL ME A PAIN IN THE ASS.

Jaded

loosing my nice

and becoming jaded

sometimes it feels as though nothing really matters

And if I am not worth standing up for than I should at least get the most out of my insanity and show them just how much of a pain in the ass I have not been, but can be.

...yet I know that lashing out generally only hurts the ones that have actually been there, that have loved and supported as best they can. Lashing out hurts the ones we love most...
so I'll contain it to here
on this blog
and hope this will, once again, relieve the pressure that builds

"Duality" -Punished for being exposed and vulnerable, this lady confounds the educated but is understood by a child.

bored and getting boring... but still won't burn out

Appointment with Dr. She today.
I tell her I think it is good we upped the meds. I did not even cry (just got a bit teary eyed) at my daughters performances.
But I also feel a bit bored or boring now.
Dr. She is not surprised. She talks about the highs and the processing abilities that can come with bipolar. She tells me how it feels and when it is exhilarating, and how people can be a bit addicted to it. She tells me that is why so many people go off meds. Dr. She seems to understand it so well and describes it so well that I find myself wondering if she is bipolar herself, if she has been manic too. But I don't ask. I'm not entirely sure why. I think I have before and as she explains further she seems to know this from her experience working with people like me.
I remember conversations with my brother-in-law about this too...
and I remember a year ago, after my last recorded appointment with Dr. P -for the record I had another after that but he said he would not charge me and somehow got it off the records- but I remember the appointment where I was as high as a kite in mania, but managing because I have experience and I was believing the email where Dr. P said I was not. But I was high, high, high, and quite childish and I don't know how he could have possibly missed that entirely... But back to my point, somehow Dr. P had a drug like effect and just meeting with him helped to calm the mania, though it did not cure it entirely; just enough though, that I remember substitute teaching in a second grade class a day or two later and feeling bored with it... Even 30 second graders was boring. ...
and hmmm... now as I reframe my thinking, of course they were boring, not because I was level but because I was not. I was still too high, but at least level enough not to do anything rash about the boringness of it all.
That was a different boring; now the real boring starts. I will be a boring person again on medication and even though Dr. She has a lot of experience with people intentionally going back to the excitement, that will not be me. It is too painful and difficult to manage so I am grateful for boring.
Now I can really decide what to do with my life and my time. And that is at least exciting....
though I am really very gun-shy.
Dr. She asks why and she is surprised that I say I am very insecure because she thinks I exude confidence and security. It seems to be a common misconception about me. Maybe I over compensate, or maybe, even though I am insecure, I am still just who I am and not very interested in being not who I am, which just might be what confuses people?
I don't know.
But I think I will work on not being so insecure.
We talked about Dr. P again. I wanted clarification on why Dr. She does not want me to believe Dr. He's boundary violations had anything to do with me. I think she wants me to believe that I am not special or something like that. It was all just him, I was irrelevant. She is a bit confused by my questioning, because she does not understand my insecurity, the invisible that I was when I so desperately needed to be seen, I needed to be special -but really I didn't, I just needed to be seen, heard, and helped.
Dr. She and I do a brief awkward communication dance until we make sense of each other. I was misunderstanding, she wants me to understand that it was not me, I am not to blame for his mistakes. She tells me he held all the cards, it is something that is always hard for me to accept, but I am understanding better and I know how accurate that really is.
I tell her it frustrates me that I still feel an attachment and it does not make sense especially considering how he has handled it, but she is not surprised. She points out, "but that is what you do, you love people." and I do. She tells me that I don't need to love everyone and/or something about discerning better who deserves to be loved.
I tell her, "everyone deserves to be loved."
 She tells me, "that is true, but they don't all deserve to be loved by you."
This turns into a funny communication dance and she laughs when I say, "but Jesus says love everyone, and treat them kindly too."
I am not entirely sure how we ended that conversation but I believe it was a good natured, though unspoken, agree to disagree kind of move on.
I ask her opinion. She thinks Dr. P is an idiot. At best he was negligent, at worst malicious. ... lately it feels malicious... Some things have always hinted that way, but I don't say it out loud. She reminds me that she is not so concerned about his motives, she is concerned with the effects. She is concerned with the harm he caused and she wants me to understand that he did cause harm. He did. Not me, him.
She wants me to understand that it was traumatic and that is the only reason she is okay with me ruminating on his motives. She acknowledges that I am improving so that hopefully makes my bringing it up again more bearable for her. She understands the trauma, she can explain it to me and I understand. She explains that I did not do anything that was not within the scope of what would or could be expected. She is not surprised by how my body reacted to the circumstances. She is not surprised by how it has effected me. She is not surprised by the way it still effects me. She speculates he maybe "just didn't care" when I ask "but how could he not know it could not possibly end well for me with the things he said and especially under the circumstances?" ...Right now it does not pierce my heart nearly as sharp to hear that he maybe "just didn't care."
She sees that I return to the concern about motives when I feel misunderstood and even blamed or shamed by others. She explains that she has had many patients who have been harmed by malpractice and they share similar misunderstood blaming and shaming by friends and family members. She says it is too scary and too far outside of peoples comfort zone to accept that the doctors and medical professionals we so highly trust and value so very much could make mistakes and cause harm. She tells me about a lady whose surgeon had left a sponge in her brain and she shared almost identical feelings about how people treated her as if it were somehow her fault. I was surprised and yet also sadly not. But it definitely helped me feel better; my situation is at least less obvious so it is understandable and yet also it would be harder for me to see these reactions to me as their problem and their insecurities and not mine.
It is sad how we re-victimize people and I wonder if that is what Dr. Concussion was up to? She may really be the one who should be held accountable for the very unnecessary suffering of not being medically treated when I was in fact manic and then fading and she just kept trying to pass the buck without providing adequate or appropriate assistance with that. Acting as if she were treating and/or willing to help but then not.
The games.
It is so bizarre to me, the games they played with me. I am not a liability, I am not a toy, and I am not a buck to be passed. I am human and I deserve to be treated as such, regardless of if the provider believes in forever anymore or if they don't want to be bothered.

Dr. Odd

I was able to get into a neurologist yesterday. He was a bit eccentric? Maybe odd? But he was very knowledgable and though he was a bit older he seemed very up to date on research etc.
He kind of suggested that most of the TBI treatments and medical care are a bit of a sham and/or a scam. He specifically named one I have mentioned without mentioning here on the blog, a facility that does FMRI's and makes a lot of claims about them. I am not terribly surprised by this. His statements match my impressions from when looked into them myself.
In trying to explain why I was there it was hard to explain what was going on and for how long, who really thought I needed to see a neurologist and why and even why I was not referred to a neurologist sooner.
He tells me the Neuroscience Institute's role is basically to decide when I should go back to work. Now remember Concussion Dr. was the one who had asked to be the overseeing physician over head injury and car accident related stuff. Since the last conversation I had with her about work was "we need to get you stable" but she then proceeded with trying to pass me off to others without a "proper referral" considering the condition I was in (I am told) I am confused by exactly what I should and am capable of. Now I know that sounds silly because they do not get to decide what I am and am not capable of and obviously they are not all that intelligent when it comes to me, but it still weighs on me and confuses my brain and heart because they are supposed to be the experts and I respected and trusted them as such ...even when it was clear, at least it would have been to a stabile fully rational brain, that I could not trust them and my best interest or even my interest at all was far for their concern. They really did not give a shit about me and they literally would have rather I faded away into the depths of bipolar despair that few escape without medical and psychological interventions.
But let's now circle back to Dr. Odd (the neurologist, I'd call him Dr. Eccentric but Odd is so much easier to type.)
As we discuss, he explains things to me:
1st: "the hipocratic oath is dead," he says... clearly this is true and it is very sad.
2nd: they teach a lot about avoiding relationships in med schools and psychology programs. They tell them never do this and avoid these types etc. and he emphasis how much it is emphasized to the point that it becomes frustratingly evident that we, the patients, are dehumanized quite a bit in their training and practice.
3rd: They teach a lot about transference and countertransference and they teach to avoid it like the plaque but there is very little, and with Dr. Odd's training it seems like no, training on what to do in the event it does happen. Thus the general consensus across the board seems to be "dispose of them" and do it quickly and completely, and don't look back.
This is very very wrong to me. It seems archaic and brutish and I am so shocked that these highly intelligent humanitarians could be so barbaric and immature in their reasoning and treatment of people. And as I have seen so many patterns like this on so many levels within our societies and culture it seems to me that we have not come nearly as far as we think in our humanity.
Dr. Odd also tells me about patients he said no to, that he told he could not treat -because they were too loose and/or seductive in appearance and/or personality. I feel annoyed with his comments about this because I am not and was not that type of person and yet I am being punished as if I had been.
And here I will chastise myself for that statement because even those ladies should not be mistreated, blamed, shamed, vilified and denied treatment (the way I was) if these elites of medicine and psychology are as elite as they say they are.
And now it becomes evident how far we have NOT come in the way we shame women and let men off...
Here I could take this now a million directions but I think I will throw a curve ball in:
I do wonder if I get along so well and relate easily to men because, in a way I relate to the massive amounts of self control men must have to self-regulate and behave accordingly in spite of their overwhelming sex drive. While for them it may be a sexual thing for me it is not so much. I relate to that when manic yes, but on average the raging sex hormones are not so much a problem for me but my duality is a bit more pronounced and obvious due to TBI and I have had to work very hard to manage that duality in order to be responsible, respectful, and a whole lot of other things. Now almost every girl has to learn to deal with the hormonal cycle that can cause greater intensity or emotions, so I am not unique there but my imbalances were definitely magnified and as a teen my duality was more pronounced. In comparison men, especially when they are teens have to work very hard to manage that lustful drive. Frequently they will be physically aroused and have to let it die without acting. Yet the world being what it is they can feed and indulge in all kinds of materials that will feed, magnify or easily warp that drive. They have to be diligent in there efforts to direct that drive constructively and be respectful to others boundaries.
My boundaries look different, and that may be both appealing and confusing, and I wonder if maybe there is something to that that makes friendships with men very easy and natural for me.
I don't know. It's a curve ball being thrown from a unstable pitcher, so who knows if it comes even close to hitting a target I have been so turned around and upside down by things this last year I am not even sure what the targets are anymore.
Back to Dr. Odd. He was Odd and has been 86ed from a bar (this is new term to me) and thinks that compares to being 86ed from a medical facility of the proclaimed specialist that really did have a responsibility and obligation to me. We both know it is not the same but at least he sympathizes with me and helps me understand just how broken and messed up the systems really are. And at least he can explain the ringing in my left ear and he is not downplaying or minimizing the tremors (and other issues) and he wants to do some test to see if we can better figure them out.
sighh

Hold on tight, It's going to be a bumpy ride.

If I get tired my emotions get steep. If I am feeling well and happy my emotions get steep.
Sometimes I just feel "normal" (which is how I know there really is such a thing) and that is nice.
But I can feel tired and too high, immensely happy and tragically sad at the same time. I am certain everyone can feel these things, but I am also certain that I feel them too intensely.
Last night we watched a new show "Good Omens" (or something like that) and I enjoyed it. But then later I find my mind taking me places that I am not sure are safe. Conspiracies, messages, signs, symbols, omens...
and I cry as I realize just how delicately balanced upon the threshold of "crazy" I really am.
The crying helps release some sort of toxins as I once again diligently strive to stay "sane."

and big sigh...
What am I?
I am intelligent yet delicately balanced.
My daughter says that fragile things are more valuable and they become more valuable with time because not as many survive. She tells me this so that I know it is okay that I am fragile, she still loves me and values me.
And that is so very nice to remember right now.
So I am fragile
and yet incredibly tough...
or is it determined?
or tenacious?
Whatever.
I just needed to release and confess my balance with insanity that is kind of getting to me right now
because I am still stabilizing and I wonder how long it will take and I wonder if I ever really will be "stable" again and maybe I even wonder if I ever really was... But the insanity of me is definitely more intense and the adjustment and learning to accept it as part of me is difficult. Also, what lays before me? What is going to happen to me? How will I handle the tragedies that are sure to come?
I am sacred.
Today I wonder if we once again need to up the meds? A thing I always hate since there is greater risk of negative side effects and I hate that I need them anyway... I want to be okay with out them. Yet I am so immensely grateful for modern medicine and that we have them at all. I can't even begin to imagine where I would be without them.
At points in my life I used to cry every time I saw a dead animal on the road. And this was in my adult life. A phase that I am fairly certain I went through more than once and that lasted much longer than you would think.
another big sigh.
I am like a baby sometimes
and that is one of the things brain injury does to people; makes us much more infantile and childlike.

So Good night -no, day-, sleep tight. -No -wake up and hold on tight.
the end.
and blogging still helps.
aaahhhh, my new drug of choice
Good Day friends.

Nailed it Cont...

...Sometimes, as a nail I won't hold, and I refuse to be part of the project the hammer is trying to beat me into.
...And sometimes I am also a hammer and I need to be. Hitting the target for an intended purpose that is not entirely my own.
So Hammer or Nail
I hope whichever I am when I am, I am working with the Carpenter of Higher Purpose.

Nailed It

“I’d rather be a hammer than a nail” say Simon and Garfunkel.
And I wonder, “what would I rather be?”
A hammer is a tool that is used to drive the nail. Without the hammer the nail is pretty useless however it’s job as a hammer is to beat the nail down. It has to drive the nail so hard that it will penetrate and hold durable pieces of a planned whole together. The hammer has an obligation to drive hard but not too hard and it needs to drive at precisely the right angle or it will destroy the nail rendering it useless. But once the hammer has driven the nails it is no longer useful. Also, as a tool, it is only useful if it is being used by someone else to do something that it will only be part of for a short time.
The nail simply has to hold things together and yet it cannot do that and is basically useless without taking the very hard and repetitive beatings from the hammer. The hammer that is doing someone else’s bidding. But once the nail is driven, granted it is driven straight and it didn’t cave and bend incorrectly under the pressure, then it has a job to do for the remainder of the existence of the structure it is holding. But the nail is usually not alone in its job, it works together with a team to hold.
So I wonder, would I rather be a hammer than a nail?
And I think no, I am not so good at driving hard and I’m not too good at being a tool.
So maybe I am a nail, and all I really need to do is hold it together and stay straight in spite of all the  unconscionable tools beating me down.

Thanksgiving

A lot can happen in a year.
Last Thanksgiving we were on the southern side of our state where animals, in general, are more scarce but spirit animals were still showing up -at least for me. Two lizards were especially interesting. Running to disappear faster then they usually do this time of year. They ran because I reached out to touch them, uncertain if they were real or visions.  They were too fast so in all honestly I don't know. https://trustedpsychicmediums.com/spirit-animals/lizard-spirit-animal/ . The parallel is uncanny.
On thanksgiving day last year I wrote out whatever returning memories or processing was in my head in the wee hours of the night because my body would not and did not need sleep. I ran a mile or two (maybe more) on my broken tendon ankle. I made a flock of adorable paper turkeys and then hide them with prizes for the kids in a an incredible spot by the river. I laughed and helped with the meal anyway I could. I ate very little even of the dinner and pies. I was not really trying to but rather food had little appeal and need for it was laking. I was getting close to the 10 lbs dropped in 2 weeks without any effort.
I fed and walked the dog and played with the little ones. I laughed with and educated the olders on spirit animals. My own kids were a touch (or a lot) embarrassed. I lived at least 1000 lives that day and my mind was working so fast and was so sharp I could have landed a rocket on the moon single handed.
We went swimming by the full moon light that night or the next and I could feel every water molecule of the perfectly temperatured water. I could do more and better pull ups on the diving board than anyone, including the military vet that is much stronger and younger than I.
And all with my heart hurting constantly; likely from the cortisol and/or endorphins I would feel regularly surging through it.
I was higher than a kite.
I was manic.

Within the next year it would be dismissed and denied.
and my body, mind and heart, would not handle it well.
Reckless endangerment on at least 9 counts by the medical providers that were supposed to be looking out for me and protecting me. The ones who are supposed to know about TBI and PTSD and how those things can effect ones mood stability.

This year I am 3 months into the stabilization after the very long battle to understand and figure out my head and know who and what to trust while trying to figure out where to go.
After too long of trying to handle it mostly on my own.
Too long in the battle for my sanity, my safety, my stability and my life in which I was:

So confused by the views of the those who were the professionals.
So confused by the chemistry of me and the treachery of my heart.
So confused by the swinging and the surging of emotions and physiology.
So confused by the story and the words that were said when I was broken in my head.

This year we were supposed to be with my family. But I am being triggered lately. Angry. Hurt. Betrayed again and again. Alone. Shushed and Shunned.
They do not understand.
It is too much for them.
my trauma
and I am alone again.
with TBI
only this time extra screwed up by this one guy
and I don't quite know why
but people will reply
"just let it die"
but "it" is I
And I WILL NOT DIE
so
play it safe.
Don't want to explode
One sister is already too offended
and she needs a safe place too
she needs her family
she has had so much trauma herself
...not fair for me to be triggered
not fair for me to be mad
... and yet it absolutely is.
So respect her need for space from me
seems the right or at least safe and kind choice.
So, with the husband's side again -only this time on the Northern End.
And I am dull and boring. A shadow of what I was a year ago.
... A shadow...
that is a bit how I feel these days.
A lot can happen in a year.

And while I have a lot to be thankful for I also have a lot that really angers me because people have no idea and they are often asses because of it.
The other day I texted my friend who has endured abuses in the medical system when she had a TBI and has endured more than any human should ever have to. I texted her "sometimes the rejection hurts"
She replied "OH, I do understand all too well, my friend...big part of overall message...for me the pain/aguish of the aftermath... judgments...
Cold betrayals...far surpassed the actual terror/physical beating where I was left to die..."

I am so very thankful for this beautiful lady who has endured so much and who keeps getting back up, not just for herself but for others, even for me. I love her and I get back up for her too. 

So this Thanksgiving I am thankful, so incredibly and immensely thankful, for those friends and family members who have been so kind and patient. Who have listened and know me well enough to know, right now I need to be kept safe.

And I am so immensely grateful for my new neuropsychologist who literally saved my life by making sure I got put on the right medication and quick. And she keeps doing it and keeps helping me get back up every time I take another hit. Dr. She, who understands, and has made sure I know, that my safety should not have been and should not be compromised for others I have been too soft on and have cared too much for to the detriment of my self. 

My Emotions Need Me.

Yesterday:
One hell of a day.
Dark for sure
but I bounced back
soooo much quicker this time.
Today:
Dr. She and then a new kind of therapy
Rapid Eye Technology
Interesting.
A bit nervous
"will this push me into mania?"
no, it is going well.
intersting.
Listening to my internal higher self
I feel sadness
I want to feel compassion
But I already do
a lot.
And there is beauty in sadness. It would not be sad if it was not beautiful.
My mission, my goal, my crusade, whatever it is supposed to be called
"to protect"
I feel something. "I don't want to hurt him... but I have to" ..."I feel like I have to protect him from himself" "I feel like I need to protect them from themselves"
Releasing. What am I releasing?
His burden... It is not my burden. It was never supposed to be.
She reframes: "he is accountable for his actions, not you"
"he is"
RET therapist is right.
Reframe: He is responsible for his actions and his actions have brought him here.
Release, reframe, release
but something I'm trying to release is fighting back, pressing on my mind
threatening my grounding
...wanting to go too high...
Anger!
it will not be released.
It is fighting against me
or am I fighting against it.
"what do you feel?"
...."I need my anger" "I don't want my anger" "but I need my anger?"
But something else
... "my anger needs me"
My anger needs me and I need my anger.
"I can accept it for what it is"
"I can see it for what it is"
And like magic, it is released.
I need my anger and it needs me and by accepting that and accepting it for what it is I no longer have to fight against. I do not need to ruminate it away. I do not need to keep trying to fight it out by writing it out. I can let it be what it needs to be and recognize it as a part of me and a part that needs to be.
Joy.
The idea of replacing it all with Joy, this does not feel wise. I have joy and I love joy but it is not the only or even most important thing for me to feel. I need all of my emotions and they need me.

And I learned that my light and color is white because all of the colors kept jumping in, campaigning for the position.
I tried to stick with my tried and true color of blue
but it needed it's friends.
So I let them all in and found a white light, the rainbow they all blend to make.
Colors bouncing in and out. That is me. That is my color if I have to choose only one.
So white is my light.

and Dr. She says "just a tiny bit of cynical" finger and thumb about an inch apart, because I say I don't really like to be.
And I love that she says that because I feel like I have at least that much but she still feels that I don't. She gets it. She sees my angry and she still gets me.
I sure love her.
And dear TBI friend calls me
just to tell me about the lady she talked to who said,
"Nobody gets pissed until it happens to them."
"we choose to be tough" she always tells me
and to keep getting back up.
I feel peace. I feel calm.
I feel.
and I am comfortable with me.

Damned if You don't have a Double Sided Ears

Sometimes I really hate people.
I hate the stupid lessons given about the things we are supposed to do and then when we do we find out that we are not really supposed to do them. Yesterday there was a good chunk in a lesson about asking for help when you need it. So once again feeling inspired by peoples well meaning words I took the council and did as I was told...
Just to have confirmed what that jerk of a man had documented about me in his neuropsychological evaluation; lack of family and social support.
But of course it is my fault.
Why wouldn't it be?
And I am shamed and hushed and silenced once again by the people who are supposed to be looking out for me.
Perfect target for grooming.
That I won't respond appropriately to, but will break and expose the groomer for instead
and then be blamed and shamed, stigmatized and hushed and silenced for
because I did not break the right way, which is wrong.
What a messed up cycle of madness
and yet I am the the crazy one
conspiracy theorist for sure
when actually they don't really believe me because it is too close to a real conspiracy and they are only conspiracy theorists so of course I must be too.

And the ringing in me ear is nagging and the silver capsuled eraser is begging to be used.
Sometimes I really hate people

But I still have at least 3 that do care about me.
So no erasing for now.

One of those three had me listen to this because in her youthful wisdom she felt it applied and of course I cried:

Leaving the Cult of Happiness
...6 at least 6

Art is madness put on display.
That is the thought I had while at a dance show with my daughter yesterday.
The world is madness.

the Marionette Master

The ringing in my ear is nagging. It is more noticeable now that my thoughts have slowed with the assistance of medication.
What it is nagging me to do I am not always sure of.
Currently I find it very difficult to do anything. It takes immense effort to trust people and I am not really sure of how to proceed with anything.
Dr. She assures me that my current circumstances are far from normal in regards to the way this is going to effect a person psychologically.
That is good to know, because I'm like, "is this what it is going to be like, is this what my body is going to do now every time something is hard and stressful?"
But really we don't know.
I do know that a person can only take so many hits before they really cannot get up again. And I do know the TBI mood instability issues I have, have altered the course of my life...
I have to accept a new me, a new norm and yet I have no idea what that really is and what that really looks like because I have one man who has been determined to make it a mess for me and now he is determined to have me exiled from anyone in the industry because he is claiming it to be his place where I am not welcome. The only thing that makes sense to me (as to why he has me so unwelcome in my place of existence) is that he is claiming this because he wants to hide what he really is and how he is using and abusing people with head injuries. It is very scary and he knows he can win, he knows I don't have a fighting chance, because he knows my disadvantages and he knows how to manipulate people and the system. He knows how to turn people into his puppets, marionettes on strings he is pulling with his sweet tones and dimples and his carefully and strategically chosen words. He is brilliant and he knows what he is doing.
The good little puppets he works with drink it up and play along, loathing me for trying to cut their puppet strings so that they can do their jobs and be real humans.

Reality Hits Hard

They want me not to speak out. They want me not to stand up for myself. They literally want me to burn out and die.
They have literally been setting me up.
I have long felt and suspected this. My sister, the prison guard has repeatedly warned me of this, and my rational brain saw it. But since I am something like a foolish Pollyanna of the mentally ill and brain injured I could not believe it. ... and I kept walking right into their traps.

The reality of this, the gravity of what I have -now obviously intentionally- been put through hit me hard today.
And I once again found myself in tears in a public place.
Costco this time.
Streaming.
I couldn't keep them back at all.
Fortunately a friendly Costco employee was compassionate and buoyed me up enough to get out the door without completely flooding the store.
But a breakdown of yet another new kind. A real, normal, too much stress on a person break down. Not mania, not TBI, not mood instability, but reality sinking in and sinking in hard.
A complete and intentional set up...
How on earth was I stupid enough to keep walking back into it? They likely even want me to appear to be a conspiracy theorist.
The irony of that is so comical. The one person in my family who is not overly paranoid, the one who chooses to trust and believe in humanity, is the one who has actually been set up in the most diabolical and unimaginable way. The irony of how two days prior Dr. She told me I need to be more cynical of people. And the irony of how when the threat arrived from the mail lady, I had just sat down to write out the importance of what they missed and why it is important that they do not miss or dismiss, because I wanted do what I could to make sure it did not happen to other patients. The irony.

They want me scarred. and
I am scared now
but not just for me, for others.
They are or he is clearly very dangerous. 
He even warned me of these things...
"You only know what I let you see" [of him]
"I told you not to try and solve this"
"So we agree to a clean break"
"What we have had is a beautiful thing, I would not want to fuck that up"
"I am okay with being wrong"
"I don't believe in forever anymore"
"why, are you a stalker" with a suggestive epiphany inflection
"I going to let it burn out and I [advice or suggest] you to do the same"
"I'm a snake?" the inflection and then the disappointment when he realized what I actually thought that meant. (It was a spirit animal thing that can be explained easily through the lens of mania.)
and even possibly his rubbing his right eye with his middle finger when I played a song for him to explain the transference I was feeling... although that one may have been a different kind of suggestion...
a snake in the grass...
most certainly not the healing snake of caduceus that I wanted to believe he was, that I needed him to be.
Naseau. I have been bitten by a snake in the grass and it has made me very ill.

Met with Dr. She today. She tells me I have very good coping skills even when I think I don’t. I say thank you.
Then I got to hang out with my beautiful friend.
And it was good.
But somehow I am stupidly still struggling.
My head is tired and it hurts so my eyes start to leak uncontrollably.
...and I find myself praying to God that he call me home soon...

So here I am... positively coping on my blog again... while praying I can be called home soon.
I won’t make the journey uninvited
But I’m so tired
And tired of the ringing in my ear.
... and I’m not really strong enough to keep fighting back...
So now I pray for the patients and others I really am not strong enough to get back up for...

Maybe tomorrow......

Knocked down again. Getting back up. And I will not Give up my Constitutional Rights for Bullies.

Nov. 2018
"why, are you a stalker?" he says with a light up in his eyes and the inflection of an epiphany.
Or is it a suggestion?
I am not sure. Under the circumstances of what he has implied and based on my intense feelings it feels like a suggestion to me and yet it is clearly an epiphany and I already know logically that it is a set up and yet another confession of his intentions.
Another truth about his manipulations that I did not want to believe but the evidence was clear as evidenced in my medical records in January when I went to Concussion doctor to try and understand what was going on with my head and what to do about it. In my records she documents some of her conversation with him and he claims I have made repeated attempts to contact him. The only attempt to contact outside of getting medical care and trying to understand what was going on with my head and why (without getting him into trouble because he had told me he could loose his license because of me -which did not make sense to me so I figured the institution was the threat) was a thank you card that I had sent after my last manic crazy appointment with him. A thank you note I sent to him through his office when I still trusted him so completely and wanted to show my appreciation. It was a manic gesture sent because he had shared with me that once a client had sent him a thank you letter and he appreciated it. I know it was a manic gesture because it was too soon after, probably too intense, and (and this one is most important) I had completely forgotten I had sent it. I only remembered when I later saw my general family PA and she thanked me for the very kind thank you note I sent to her. I had sent them at the same time.
Aside from that he was a medical provider for me, there were reasons to contact him, especially under the circumstances, clarification was needed and my head was very broken and a mess and that happened on his watch. Now looking more and more likely that it might have been due to his watch.
But he had set a trap.
A Trap within a trap, within a trap, within a trap, within a trap... one of my neighbors pointed out not too long ago, but before this very solid evidence of the stalking trap he had set.
"cease and desist" they are threatening.
and "govern myself accordingly"
"According to what?" I wonder.
Their threats, misconduct and mistreatment?
His desire for me to burn out and sacrifice myself for him thus keeping me from getting appropriate care and medical attention? This expectation equates to an expectation of suicide when it is coming from a trusted therapist and medical providers that are claiming you are not what you are (manic and then fading from the very real and very extreme physiological effects).
Or shall I govern myself according to what is truly ethical, and right and just? then I most certainly have complaints to file, charges to make, and a battle to fight and the UCLA might be who I need Since they are demanding and commanding me to give up my constitutional right to freedom of speech, the only thing I have left in figuring this out and trying to get the help I need and seeking fair treatment and justice for other patients as well. I am not so stupid as to suppose I am the only one and I am blown away at the lengths they are, or he is, willing to go to cover his indiscretions that I repeatedly explained and showed I was able to forgive and over look, and that I really did not care about other than because it was keeping me from getting the help that I needed.

This morning I am beat down. I cannot get up. I did but then I am down again. Afraid to even leave my house. Unable to get out of bed again. I thought I was strong... Empowered by the injustice and obvious abuse of it initially... but then finding my body pushing back again against medication and fading again. Feeling every hit from every source, including my family and the lack of support I feel there, something he knew -documented in his reports of me...
and I am hearing them say, "just stay down, don't get back up, they will just keep knocking you down. Just stay down"
They don't understand that I am cornered in the madness, if I stay down I bleed out and die, not getting the help I need.
Or if I stay down other patients will be turned on and beat up next ...and they may not be as strong as I am. They may die more easily. They are victims too and I cannot stay down and let that happen.
I have to get up. I need to keep fighting.
So here I am.
Getting back up.
I see clearly that they will fight me to, and hope for, my death. And maybe that will be the end result, but I will keep fighting until the wrongs are righted and changes have been made that will help patients -not hurt and continue to harm them. They are proving what I feared in their investigation and the concern I expressed when I asked them to stop the investigation until I understood or at least until they had my side of the story. They would not and did not stop or pause the investigation at that request. They are proving that they are making and have made changes that further reinforce the bad policies that have and continue to harm me. That will harm others.
I will keep fighting until I have nothing left, they have already destroyed enough for me, if they really wish to destroy me entirely than I will keep putting up a fight and I will keep talking about it. Only now I no longer need to speak to solve, now I need to speak to educate and inform. ...and to stay up and alive.
I have tested my theories and my doubts, I have tried to work this out with them and I have repeatedly asked for clarification if I was misunderstanding -which has repeatedly been denied with a claim that I was threatening. The only reason I would be a threat is if they are trying to hide something or things that are wrong. The only "threat" they can claim I have made is reporting them to the appropriate legal and governing bodies, something that I did not want to do if I were misunderstanding and when my brain was such a mess, but clearly my misunderstanding was in trusting them and hoping/believing that what had happened to me was an honest mistake and not something diabolical...
Keep getting up. I need to keep getting out of bed, keep getting up, keep believing in humanity or at least fighting for it...
I'm up now and just like a fighter who has been knocked down so many time but just keeps getting up I am shaky and week. It is taking so much energy to get up and stay up. To keep going no matter what that looks like.

This is so bizarre and I hate what they have done to my body.

fighting to survive again. I will not die so easily

I WILL NOT DIE FOR YOU!!!
I SEE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE AND WHAT YOU ARE TRYING TO REINFORCE BUT I WILL NOT DIE SO EASILY.
I WILL NOT GO DOWN WITHOUT A FIGHT JUST SO YOU CAN COVER YOUR INDISCRETIONS!!!

I WILL NOT DIE FOR YOU!
I WILL NOT COMMIT SUICIDE BECAUSE YOU WANT ME TO. BECAUSE IT WILL BENEFIT YOU.
I WILL NOT DIE FOR YOU AND YOUR LIES!!!!

AND I WILL NOT STOP TALKING ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED, WHAT YOU SAID, AND HOW I WAS TREATED. I GAVE YOU EVERY POSSIBLE CHANCE TO CLARIFY, I GAVE YOU THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT AGAIN AND AGAIN, I FOLLOWED YOUR RULES PLAYED YOUR CRYPTIC GAMES. I TRUSTED YOU. I TRIED TO GET THE HELP I NEEDED FROM THE MEDICAL PROVIDERS THAT WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONES TO SEE THAT I NEEDED HELP WITH BUT YOU HAD SLANDERED AND TWISTED ME INTO SOMETHING I WAS NOT AND THEN YOU WOULD NOT ALLOW ANYONE TO TALK WITH ME TO CLARIFY, TO HELP ME. YOU MANIPULATED THE ENTIRE INSTITUTION TO WHATEVER IT WAS YOU WANTED THEM TO BELIEVE ABOUT ME, WHILE I WAS BROKEN AND STUPIDLY STILL TRUSTING.

DEFAMATION IS UNTRUE, I HAVE NOT CLAIMED ANYTHING THAT HAS NOT HAPPENED OR THAT IS CONTRARY TO MY UNDERSTANDING, HOWEVER I HAVE SOUGHT CLARIFICATION, WHICH YOU AND YOUR INSTITUTION HAVE DENIED ME. I EVEN TRIED SO HARD NOT TO HURT YOU OR CAUSE UNDO HARM WHICH ULTIMATELY HURT ME IN GETTING THE HELP I NEEDED. I HAVE BEHAVED LIKE A PERSON WHO HAS BEEN GROOMED AND I KNOW BETTER THAN TO BELIEVE I AM THE ONLY ONE. I DID NOT WANT TO BELIEVE THAT. IT BROKE MY HEART TO THINK IT BECAUSE I LOVED YOU AND I CARED AND YOU SEEM SO KIND AND MODEST... BUT IT IS A GUISE. AND I HEARD THE THINGS YOU SAID, ALL. I SAW YOUR EYES CHANGE, AND I KNOW HOW YOU MANIPULATED THROUGH IMPLYING. YOU CLAIMED YOU WOULD ALWAYS WANT TO PROTECT ME WHEN YOU WERE NOT EVEN DOING THAT WHEN IT WAS YOUR JOB TO, YOU WERE INTENTIONALLY HARMING ME.
I HAVE BEHAVED LIKE A PERSON WHO HAS BEEN GROOMED AND I KNOW BETTER THAN TO BELIEVE I AM THE ONLY ONE.
I WILL NOT SIT BY AND SAY NOTHING KNOWING YOU ARE GETTING AWAY WITH THIS.
AND I WILL NOT DIE FOR YOU!!!!
thoughts processed and out.
the reason for this very unknown blog...
I will keep fighting to survive. I will keep fighting for my family. I will keep fighting for others like me who are being mistreated and abused by these very powerful and apparently very corrupt systems.  I will keep fighting to stay out of the darkness of the psychological mess this has caused. I will keep fighting.
I choose to live!!!!
I CHOOSE TO LIVE!!!!!!!!!
And I will not break again for you. I am stronger and I will keep getting help. I WILL NOT BREAK FOR YOU! I will not die for you.

the closer you get to the truth the harder people will fight you to keep their illusions up

One thing I have learned in life is the closer I get to the truth that someone is trying to hide the more vicious they become in their fight to hide it.
...This is very bad.
This is very very bad...

I have been absolutely gun shy about trying anything, about returning to previous projects and even occupations because of the hit this last year has taken to my confidence and because of the hit it has taken to my belief in other people...
I am scared for this world.
I am scared because of what is happening to me.
As a kid I never really felt bullied but as an adult... this is happening on terrifying levels...

this does not make sense to me.