Inspiration for the Ethically Discarded

 I have disappeared from my home and family so that I can focus on writing my book. I'm very fortunate to be able to stay at a family members vacation rental about an hour and 1/2 away from home. It is an ideal set up for me to tackle this book that was writing itself for sometime as I struggled to process and stay ahead of the mania, effects of TBI, and a careless (or deviant) neuropsychologist. 

And, as if to confirm that this is precisely where I need to be and what I need to be working on, I had a chance encounter with a lovely couple from New Jersey this morning. The lady makes a half comment half comment question about the hot spring filled crater we are both admiring. I direct them to the even bigger crater across the road that is quite impressive and should not be missed if you are in the area. Excited to check it out they thank me. I ask where they are from. They answer and then ask if I live here. I say yes, thinking of the state then, correct my mistake explaining that I am from the state but that I live elsewhere and am just here for a writers retreat to focus on writing a book. That then spurs a new conversation which leads to me explaining a bit about the book I am writing. 

The lovely couple has a family member with bipolar, so without my having to disclose that I also have bipolar, they figured out that this was one of the conditions I have and was writing about. The husband is more quiet but the wife expresses interest in reading my book. She asks what the title will be. I forget to tell her what the title is (at this point) as I explain that I am a nobody so it may be hard to get published in a way that will be easy to find with just the title alone. Plus I know the title could change, especially if I actually find a publisher. So I give her this blog address and my name instead so she can find the book easily when I either get it published by a publisher or figure out how to self publish it. 

As I continue on my walk I start to worry about how this blog might be very overwhelming to most people and I realize that I didn't give her the current title as it stands. So I wish to share that and links to articles on this blog that I feel are especially important and that might help people make better sense of this blog and my intentions for writing it.  

The title of my book, as it stands is, "Ethically Discarded." 

Breaking, We all eventually do, Even you

Redefining Crazy 

The Magnificent Masterminds of the Medical Malpractice Model

The Jesus Man

I Walk Alone (what I wish I could teach the world about suicidal symptoms)

Bipolarity: The confusion and effects

https://amicrazy2.blogspot.com/2020/09/to-insi-for-unlawful-carnal-knowledging.html

There are more I would like to link to but these are few topics off the top of my head that I think are of crucial importance to this blog and the story and help I would like to share with others. For most, I kept all the blog entry links that showed up in the search so there are plenty of entries to read with those above links. However, I most recommend reading the entries that are first on the link and that have the title I share here. 

And now I need to turn my focus back to my book, but before I do I would just like to comment on the condition of bipolar and why I appreciate that this couple so easily offered up that they have a family member with the condition:

Bipolar is a very misunderstood condition that needs to be talked about a lot more than it already is. We really do need to raise awareness in order to: 1. Combat the irrational fears about it and people that have it 2. Help those who have it manage it better and have access to resources to help them manage this life altering and life threatening condition. 3. Get more research and funding for research on it. 4. Save lives, livelihoods, and relationships. 5. Combat the discrimination, stigmas, biases, etc. that cause very real and tragic problems for many people and that feeds negative thinking patterns and ideas in those who do have the condition.  

Thank you Lovely New Jersey couple for the brief but encouraging conversation and thank you for sharing with me just enough to inspire me today. 

Dear Sweet Utah State University+ corrections

 I have a letter from the Office of Equities of Utah State University University. It has been sitting in my inbox waiting for me to read it for a few weeks now. I have held off on reading it because USU has reliably been dismissive, degrading, and has handled this is ways that deny responsibility and that are known to increase stress and harm to a person, which it has and does. Thus having sciatica and then being sick with a kidney infection I have used my better judgement to refrain from increasing stress to my body from the source that has contributed to the medical conditions by inflicting the stresses of injustices and denying any responsibility. 

Today I decided I have to be well enough to get this thing read so I can determine next steps...

The first paragraph is as far as I could make it since the "attached report" is from the Utah State University "Assistant Attorney General" because, "As you know, these cases were sent for review outside of the Office of Equity, based on the allegations of conflict of interest/bias you raised against me and the Office of Equity investigator."

Have you figured out why I had to stop already?

So to review my complaint they sent it to the USU attorneys who, of course, are going to be completely unbiased and work to make sure all parties are fairly and equally represented -my heavy sarcasm with this statement should not be missed in that last statement. 

Of course Utah State University Attorneys are not going to review this fairly. What they will be doing is making sure they get a running head start on any legal action I might take against USU as well as manipulating laws and procedures however they can to reinforce and justify the wrong doing against me and my family. They will increase the harm through definitive statements and manipulating interpretations of laws in order to bully. They are the least likely person at the University (or any place) to review anything in a way that would be fair to both parties. Based on my experiences with attorneys and institutions thus far they are not going to look at and say, "let's see, now, is our institution being fair to this student?" they are going to look at it and say, "let's see, can we get away with what we have done and if appears we cannot, what can we do to either threaten and intimidate this person away or what can we manipulate to ensure that we can get away with what we have done." 

Now while I have not read the letter myself yet, I have had my "process advisor" read it so I do already know some of the denying and dismissing from the letter and it becomes increasingly more evident Utah State University really is and does intend to cause as much harm as they possibly can to me. 

It's so strange to face this and I assure you I am not paranoid or making this up. Instead it is more likely I have increased problems because I have overcompensated for some family members paranoia, suspiciousness and distrust and I have not been paranoid, suspicious and distrusting enough. 

Unbelievable, USU, and increasingly egregious from institutions and people who should know and behave better. 

They are determined to be united in their discriminations, unfair treatment, and straight up wrongdoings against me. I think this might be much harder for me to just accept because of all the lessons I teach to our children about "talking responsibility," "being honest," and "responsible citizenship." Complete contradictions to what we teach and those that are harmed most are those that actually embrace and believe the teachings of our government funded public schools. 

**So upon further investigation I have found that it was not a review by the Utah State University attorney's office but by the Utah State Attorney Generals Office. This makes it a touch easier to attempt to read and from what I have read thus far the "reviewer" is exhibiting significantly less bias and may be fairly neutral but that is hard to tell because it seems as though they have been given partial informations and complaints but I do not know. It seem pretty obvious that I was represented to them by USU in a biased way because there is missing information and/or important points, complaints, issues are not mentioned or intentionally ignored, but, again I do not know what they were give. 

An example to illustrate either me being misrepresented or the Assistant to the Utah Attorney General being biased:  

The report states: "Police investigations involve a unique set of circumstances and are not required to follow a single established procedure; provided, however, that the investigation is ultimately carried out in accordance with the law. Detectives are allowed to rely on a variety of sources, including, but not limited to, information obtained from community members, information obtained from publicly available sources (such as Google, Facebook, Instagram, etc.), and information obtained through the issuance of a valid search warrant."....

..."Specifically, Ms. Saxton believes that Detective Christensen received biased and faulty information that ultimately established a bias against her. This letter makes no attempts to parse fact from fiction; however, it should be noted that the purpose of a police investigation is to do just that. While initial reports may contain inaccuracies, it is a detective’s responsibility to receive any relevant information and investigate the claims made therein. The mere act of receiving faulty or possibly biased information does not, in itself, constitute a discriminative intent on behalf of the receiving official."

I'm too tired and insulted to dissect the absurdity and obvious misrepresentation of the above statements (the way it clearly needs to be for those involved and to in order to stand up for myself) but I will point out that my main complaint against the officer in question was that he failed to investigate the claims made. The officer did not investigate what happened at all, he simply listened to rumors and lies and attempted to find evidence to support those. The Assistant to the Utah Attorney General seems to make it clear that Officer Biased was supposed to supposed to "parse" fact from fiction but he did not do that at all and that is the point. And I resent the assumption that I do not understand that "The mere act of receiving faulty or possibly biased information does not, in itself, constitute a discriminative intent on behalf of the receiving official." NO SHIT GENIUS... and I am getting angry as I, once again, have to sit here and take this kind of debasement... so that is all I can say and do about it today.

A Mathematical Mess continued and finished finally

 continued...

I am a bit distracted by some things I have been hearing and by feeling so much better that I am not sure how well this "continued" will be, so how about I get that off my mind first. (If it were on my chest I'd probably keep it there because I wouldn't mind a few pounds added there ;) 

COVID, -and really it's probably a good lead in- 
I am hearing people say things like, "it is now the pandemic of the unvaccinated," and, "it's all those unvaccinated who are out spreading the Delta variant," etc.
I am also hearing that people who are vaccinated are still getting COVID. Although they are saying their symptoms are much more mild and they are "not the ones getting sick and dying from it." (and I think that is good)
Now here is my rhetorical question for you: Isn't it more likely the virus is being spread by those people who aren't sick enough to know they are sick, or that don't think they are sick because they have been vaccinated, than it would be by those who are "so much more sick, in hospitals, and dying?"
My hope is not to increase divisiveness, rather to get people thinking about the divisions, how they are effecting each of us personally, and how that is effecting the way we speak of and treat others.
When I look at the big picture I find myself believing that the prolonged mass hysteria has created far more problems then it has solved.

There of my chest mind... -hmm, maybe this is why my cup size is what it is? Bad joke, but I think I'm funny, so I'm leaving it. 

Let's see, where did I leave off. um I think I need to go back and reread. I will return... 

oh yes,  

Monday, as in 5 days ago, I am sick. I had to cancel the next 2 days of a 4 day substitute teaching job. This makes me sad, but everything hurts, especially my abdomen area and the fever is hovering between 101-102. I am now wondering if all of the drugs are causing ulcers. My husband suggest I take an Omeprozal, an antacid that is "sure not going to hurt anything." I am reluctant, but decide it's probably a good idea. So I stay home, mostly in bed, drink lots of water, sleep most of the day, eat what I can and what I dare, keep shivering in check, and monitor my temperature closely (because I am not taking anything for it). "Did I mention cloudy urine?" I don't remember... My brain is struggling with focus.

The fever never breaks and my abdomen still hurts enough that I question if I should even take my Seroquel (mood stabilizer) that night. I opt for about half the regular dose and sleep. I sleep surprisingly well and the sciatic pain in my leg has eased up to the best it had been since the onset. But, with the exception of the lessoned leg pain, the next morning, I still have a fever and all of the aches, pains, and other symptoms. "Should I go in? Should I wait? Go in? Wait?..." and "who should I go see." 

I opt to go into my primary care doctor but, long story short, they are so concerned about it being COVID that they do a virtual car appointment from the parking lot. Even though I have the results of the COVID test and it is the PCR test that Dr. says is more accurate, she worries I was tested too early. She wants to do another test. That is fine, but for them it will take at least 24hrs to get the results and there is other stuff going that I'd like them to consider. 

She decides to prescribe two antacids for what sounds like peptic ulcers but insists this does not explain the fevers so she reluctantly decides to have me come in and give a urine sample after they do the COVID swab. I ease her mind by assuring I'll double mask. I tell her I have two pre-diabetic sisters and, at my sisters request, I ask if they can check for that. All test's done I am leave and await to hear the results. Sever hours later the MA calls to let me know that there is in fact evidence of infection so they are sending urine for more testing and the doctor wants me to start on an antibiotic. I ask about blood sugar and to my relief that is fine. It's most likely a UTI she tells me, the further testing will tell more. I actually have to look it up to know that UTI means urinary tract infection because I have never had one before. Looking it up, I learn they can be bladder or in the kidneys and from what I read, mine is definitely a kidney infection if it is a UTI. 

That night, with dinner I take the one antacid, Sucralfate, that the pharmacy filled and the antibiotic, Ciprofloxacin Hydrochloride, with dinner and then my regular dose of Seroquel at bedtime. Going to sleep I have weird hallucination style dreams that are not good. At one point I think I am having seizure-like convulsions, but my husband said I didn't move. Are these lucid dreams? Bad dreams, or hallucinations? I am not sure but I have to keep pulling myself out of them and trying to alert my husband to pull me out. He touches my arm and I am awake/normal awake again. I tell him I need him to keep one hand on me. He puts his hand sweetly on my shoulder but the sleeve of my t-shirt prevents skin to skin contact. I need skin contact I tell him so he keeps a hand on my arm. This is enough to keep me grounded and I am able to fall asleep into normal sleep for the remainder of the night. 

This is an interesting thing to me. I have experienced this phenomenon before, and I find it fascinating. My theory is that the electricity omitted from another person can literally help ground the misfiring electricity happening in the person (me) that is experiencing some sort of chemistry imbalance. I am grateful my husband is there and can tolerate the adjustment to his sleeping position long enough to get me back and keep me back until my body is able to settle into a safe normal sleeping cycle. 

The next morning I feel like garbage. The fever seems a little better but I still feel terrible. With breakfast I take both of the new meds again and Tylenol and resolve to read the pharmacy info when I can. As terrible as I feel I have to get to my appointment with the orthopedist. He is nice and says while it all may be linked there is not anything he can due until the infection is taken care of. I forget the name of the medications. I can hardly think until the Tylenol kicks in, which has been taking about an hour and a half. He says it's okay that I don't remember although in hindsight I wonder if he would have questioned the antibiotic chosen. He was a bit surprised they did not draw blood. He double checks my neck just to be sure and makes sure I understand that meningitis is not entirely off of the table yet. I am glad to have him that day. Two weeks and I'll followup, make sure things are healing in the right direction. He directs me to be sure and follow up with my primary care provider about the infection, whatever it may be. 

Later I get a notification from Costco pharmacy that my other antacid prescriptions is filled. Oh, crap, now I really need to read, because I was not so sure about taking the one I did, but did because it I thought the Dr. had reduced it to only one. Why this makes sense... no time to explain and probably it mostly doesn't but my brain was not functioning 100%. 

That afternoon, I finally feel well enough to tackle the currently heavy and difficult task of reading pharmaceutical papers. I read the antacid stuff first. A few things concern me and it is the one I don't necessarily need to take so I decide I won't take that unless the ulcer symptoms worsen. However, I am a little bothered that it so adamantly states you should not take this with other medications because it prevents the absorption of other medications. "Great," I think as I realize I most certainly would not have gotten the full dose of the antibiotics I had swallowed at the exact same time. I am a bit annoyed that neither the doctor nor pharmacist had pointed this fact out. However, my annoyance quickly turns to relief as I read the headline warnings of Ciproflaxen that include tendon problems, nerve and nervous system problems... What the @#%*?! Now I know there are a ton of different antibiotics, why on earth would the doctor prescribe the one that starts with warnings of the exact issues that were the catalyst of this whole mess in the first place??? I am sure she knows that sciatic is a nerve problem and I did explain that my foot is still numb. 

Now I am a mess again and not sure who to call at all. I don't trust that doctor because she was clearly too concerned about COVID. I reach out to my psychiatric PA, because I trust her when it comes to medications and I don't know what else to do. It is getting close to her closing time and she is busy but the receptionist will get her the message. I call the family care provider office too and am able to talk to the MA I had seen (for the COVID swab, finger prick, and to lead me to the bathroom). She is not super helpful and suggests I "just take it until we know the results of what type of infection." Fortunately she is going to get a message into the PA on staff right then, but warns me I'll only hear back from him if he is comfortable addressing my issues, otherwise I have to wait until tomorrow what the Dr doctor is in. Whatever. "Oh," and "what about the COVID test," I have to ask. It's negative. Of course.

The PA on staff is not at all unnerved by taking on whatever my issue is after all he does work full-time at the well known IHC hospital nearby. I am jaded not impressed, but I don't tell him so, rather I think a jaded little less of the IHC facility because this PAC has to have a second job. I ask about the medications. He explains, it's a heavy hitter and for as sick as I am I need a heavy hitter. At least they are recognizing that I am very sick for me. He agree's it's most likely a kidney infection and he explains those other antibiotics won't even get to the kidneys or something like that. 

"Okay, but I am not okay with this medication."

It is a bit of a lengthy discussion about it and I do understand what he is saying but I also know I already have nerve damage from the hip surgery and a current significant nerve problem and I am just not willing to take the risk with this drug. Plus, the weird hallucination stuff and the fact that I have had tendons injuries and operated on recently ... nope too risky. I have to explain that I have been misdiagnosed enough times in the last few years that I have learned to trust my gut on things and this is one of those times that I have to trust my gut. When he realizes I will not take anything until we get the results if he doesn't change the medication he finally is able to think of an alternative he feels is heavy hitting enough and that does not have those same possible side-effects. It's called sulfamethoxazole. He seems to think it is an even heavier hitter, but none of the side-effects he knows off sound like anything I can't handle. "I'll take it," I agree. 

When I pick it up from the pharmacy I carefully drill the pharmacist. Nope, no problems he insist. He tells me he thinks this is a better medication. It has none of those well known significant potential side-effects of the ciproflaxen and its a better medication he assures me. Satisfied (and I will admit a bit validated) I let him get back to his dealings. 

The next morning I still wake up with the pounding headache but the fever has finally broke and I am starting to feel better. 

It's absolutely amazing to me how well and quickly antibiotics start working when they are needed and I am glad to have them. But, to date, I still haven't heard anything on the "further testing."

So here are the things I have learned: As mentioned in the first half of this story, you really need to trust your gut and be your own advocate right now in the medical industry. Later my mom explained, before she knew what I was taking, that she was certain Levaquin was what caused her neuropathy. When I did tell her what I was taking she was so glad I had trusted my gut because it's in the same family. I am glad too, but it is kind of a shocking oversight for a medical provider to make. While I will admit I find it frustrating and annoying that doctors are so focused on COVID they are missing other problems I am aware of the stress they are under and, like the going-on-13-hours urgent care doctor, they are over worked right now. So I can be patient with that. 

But probably the most important thing that I learned is that I AM NOT SUICIDAL. I am so glad to know this. I can now positively and confidently state that those symptoms, when they happen, are not coming from me. They are not what I believe or what I want. They are not my thoughts and thinking. They are simply symptoms of illness and the ills of society. I know this because I did recognize that, if I truly wanted an out, this was a very good opportunity for that. But I did not want that out. I want to live and I know I still have a lot left to do and a lot I can do. Between this near-enough experience and the heartbreaking loss of my dear friend and mentor -who has always had confidence in me- that ended up passing away on my deceased younger brother's birthday I feel a renewed lease on life and confidence in my goals. 

First thing? File a lawsuit against those who are (amoung other things) discriminating, encouraging discrimination, and causing emotional distress when they know they are. Why? Because that is one step in the right direction, one voice, one person speaking up and saying: If we want to change the number of suicides in this country we have to STOP treating people this way and stop allowing people to be treated this way. Especially by those within the fields of psychology, education, and medicine and within our justice systems.    

Now I am not sure if I have covered all I wanted to or more than I meant to, and for whomever has been reading and anticipating, I apologize for the delay but now I bid you good day. 

A Mathematical Mess

 I have a lot to say and am feeling better today but I am starting to tire again sooo let's see what comes out (and how!)

A few weeks ago my cousin told me more people need to talk openly about the issues I talk about (TBI, mental illness, abuses of power and systems, etc) and I agree but can you see why we do not?... You are often heavily punished for it. If you follow this blog you know of many very unethical and egregious ways I (and my family) have been punished for speaking up and speaking out and not just by individuals who don't understand - USU, Utah State University, specifically and shockingly their USU Psychology Department and USU Division of Student Services being some of the worst offenders of all. Speaking out from my position is very risky and I have now learned can be literally dangerous to yourself and your family. 

Later, at the same family event an aunt told me how much she admired me and how I always managed to maintain a positive attitude and outlook. She praised me highly in ways that significantly contradict the discrimination, attitudes, misconceptions, etc. that I have faced so frequently, like from those at Utah State University. But my aunts praise renewed my strength as it brought tears to my eyes. I was so grateful for the acknowledgment and appreciation. It was good to know that I am still me and I have not been destroyed by all of this and the degradation that I have faced so much...

*side note - a few things that make me seem positive in light of adversity are:

1. I tend to downplay. In-other-words I am not an over-exaggerator. This is partly due to observing over-exaggerating and stories that get bigger and better over the years and how they can create, increase and cause harm to people. With the most harm often befalling the exaggerator, although they usually don't know it. I used to be so concerned about not-exagerating that I was ridiculously and tediously meticulous about any experience I relayed. I'd make sure I fully disclosed if I was not 100% certain of a point, and I would consciously err on the side of downplaying in order to avoid any form of embellishing. Thus my relaying of traumatic events would not be nearly as traumatic as they actually were and that others may have felt or known them to be.

2. I try to stay positive and find the silver linings. I usually finds some and then I choose to focus on those or at very least make sure they are brought to light as well.

3. I appreciate others and I share that. I always try to find the good in others even if it is someone that has wronged me. I give credit where credit is due. It has been pointed out to me that, historically, I have been a bit too generous in giving of those credits...  I have learned "credit where credit is due," needs to go both ways: positive and negative.  I am getting better at giving credit where credit is due, both positively and negatively, and to myself as well.

There are others reasons, but this is enough for now, just as it was enough for me to know that the people who actually know me do not think of me or treat me in ways that are at all similar to how Utah State University people, Cache County Prosecuting Attorney, and miscellaneous others, including many within IHC, have treated me when I have tried to communicate with them.

That said, out of my head.  

Glad to have felt some extended support. 

Next on the list: Herniated Disk+TBI+Stress (some from of the above mentioned)=A Mess of a Body. 

Here are the steps to the equation broken down:

1. minor low back pain leads to

2. sciatic.  Causes

3. numbing foot. Then

4. worse-pain-ever extreme sciatic and foot more numb -So call teledoc (because it is Sunday) They prescribe a steroid and naproxen. Told to get in to someone

5. Meds help. Symptoms not gone, but they help. 

6. Try to get into orthopedist, physical therapist, neurologist, whomever can see me and that Google is telling me is the "best" for this... not much luck and week to weeks out. 

7. Finish steroid- next afternoon: tingles rapidly progress to chills, head ache, body aches, stiff neck, kind-of sore throat, uncontrollable shivering, rising fever, thirst, slight nausea, extreme fatigue, sensitivity to light. 

8. curl up on couch, lots of blankets, thermometer, water, not-well-lit room.

9. Call tell-a-doc. "Get in. Could be meningitis." 

10. Go to urgent care. Nice Urgent Care Dr. there is going on 13 hours. -Not surprised it's an IHC facility...yep, I'm jaded, not so positive, but you see I still give them chances, I still give the individuals there credit when credit is due- She has me do some neurological tests, i.e. finger tracking, "remember these words?""I'm good at these tests" I half joke. I do try to warn her that I'll manifest better than I am with head stuff, but I am a bit off so phrases aren't coming out quite right when its not a "test." She checks reflexes and stuff and does not think meningitis, -Good, my gut, although in pain, does not think so either so I trust it. Then she tests for strep, Covid, Flu, and RSV (all but strep are the same test). Strep is negative. They will contact us in about an hour about the Covid et all. results -but, Dr. says, I "should be asleep by then."-  Dr. prescribes a muscle relaxant and tells me to take that and the naproxen until I see Orthopedist on Wednesday. No blood draw, no urine sample. 

-I am tiring of this equation format so I am switching my writing style now.-

Sunday morning I can't wake up when I needed to but manage to get the thermometer in my mouth. I sleep with it for a bit, then manage to actually check it. No fever. Good. But I am too wiped out to get up. Send family. When up, I check again, no fever and I feel better. Results of the Covid/flu/RSV test, all negative. Good. We attend the Celebration of Life for my dear dying friend and mentor. An amazing turn out for an amazing teacher and person. 

After that we have a store stop we need to make. That is when I start getting cold again... Oh, no. Shivers start. My husband sends me to the car to get warm while they wait to check out. By the time I get to the vehicle (it's not actually a "car") I am shivering so violently and uncontrollably that it is making my back and muscles hurt and difficult to unlock the vehicle -It's is a remote entry btw. Once in, I crank heat and close my eyes. I focus on my breathing and the sensations in my body. I do what I can to "control" the excessive shivering and other pains and sensations. I do it by allowing myself to feel what is happening inside and breathing through it. I do it by not trying to control it, but by listening. It's probably a form of meditation. At home, I curl up in blankets, with water and a thermometer in a not-well-lit room. The fever is back and higher. I take the naproxen and the muscle relaxant as well as my usual evening drugs (Seroquel). I focus on feeling to distract the shivering. 

Next morning I feel terrible and our equation is complete = My body is a mess... I have symptoms that match: meningitis, peptic ulcers, diabetes, west nile virus, .... and a so many other things. 

..and there is so much more to this story it is taking longer than I'd planned to explain. So maybe it'll be continued tomorrow as I leave you with this cliffhanging word of caution: Many doctors are so concerned with COVID right now, and/or have so much added stress, they are forgetting that other problems exist AND that they still need to remember the whole picture so it is important to be your own advocate, trust your gut, ask questions, make requests, AND read ALL of your pharmacy prescription papers! Trust me on this one...

to be continued... 

The Plight of the Attorney

 I have been working with kids of all ages since I was a kid myself. Currently I am a licensed elementary school teacher although I am not teaching as a "teacher of record." Instead I substitute teach. Substitute teaching has it's own set of challenges but I often enjoy it and I have noticed and learned a lot from my experiences as a substitute teacher.

One interesting phenomenon I have observed is how the classroom management strategy of praise around works in elementary school versus junior high school. 

"Praise around" is simply the act of praising the good behavior you see and want to encourage instead of focusing on the bad behavior you want to discourage. So if a child is doing something they should not be doing the teacher praises the kids in close proximity to the child that are doing what they should be doing in order to encourage the misbehaving child to notice and behave similarly. It is an extremely effective strategy with elementary school aged children. 

However, in junior high, it is completely opposite. If you try that strategy with junior high students (and I have) the kids you are praising will turn on you. Sometimes the entire class will turn on you. I am not entirely sure why. My guess is it has to do with their developing and needing to develop increased independence. I also wonder if it is because they do not want you to believe that your approval matters and/or they want to be sure you know your place. 

It's an interesting phenomenon and yesterday I realized that this phenomenon seems to apply to attorneys as well. It most certainly seems to apply to the prosecuting attorney I met with and thanked for treating me with decency last week. Because this week, what a turn around... and there were several condescending remarks and undertones that seemed to be directly related to the gratitude I shared with him about how he had treated me.

Now, to be clear, my intention in thanking him was not any kind of conscious effort to praise around. It may illustrate just how much our experiences, education, and careers influence every aspect of our life and it might help to illustrate how this can create and/or exaggerated misconceptions and misunderstandings between people in different demographics, but thanking him was not an attempt to utilize this strategy.  However, the vibe and change in tone was so similar to what I have felt in the aforementioned junior high scenario that I couldn't help but make the connection. Even though my motive was sincerely out of gratitude and wishing to honor what has been missing far too frequently in not-just-my-life but our world in general right now, upon feeling what I did yesterday,  I could have hit my palm to my falling forehead with an expression of, "Doh," because it was such a glaring mistake, albeit one of innocence and naivety, to have made. 

Oh well, I guess. But I cannot blame myself and I am certain that, while this may have influenced a bit of his condescensions, it is not really evidence of my doing wrong so much as it is evidence of how prosecuting attorneys are conditioned and how much easier it is for people to continue with the perpetuation of harm when the harm is coming from their colleagues, peers, and individuals and institutions that are in positions of power than it is for them to actually stand up for the underdog and work to end the patterns of  discrimination, injustice and wrongdoings and the cycles of victim blaming and shaming that are too prevalent in our societies and cultures... and that is a very sad thing... 

... And one of the most obnoxious things about all of this is being expected to graciously accept there dismissiveness and condoning of wrongdoings against me because of the time they have invested into "listening." 

and I am slipping again into wanting to yell and lash out. I have been starting to feel like I should start acting according to how I am being treated so that I am at least deserving of it in some way. 

So thank you, you jackasses, for the time you have invested in dismissing and degrading me. You are so noble and intelligent to take so long to justify your colleagues mistakes and stupidity to yourself. Thank you!  

There, trouble earned. 

and at least I am laughing for a moment at myself, which I suppose is what I may need the most right now. 

The Powerful Effect of Being Treated with Dignity and Respect

Living with brain damage can be make life very interesting. The permeant effects I have still surprise me at times. One thing I have noticed and mentioned is that I am much more sensitive to just about everything. This not always a bad thing. Like eating healthy, I feel the negative effects so much quicker that it is easier to identify the problem and turn my habits around before the negative effects are impossible to reverse. 

Another thing I think my TBI's makes me more sensitive to is mirror neurons (you can read about those here: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3898692/ and here: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog...). It seems I am a bit more sensitive to and even reflective of what what others are projecting. I feel it more and I reflect it back often without realizing I am doing it. 

...and as I am writing and thinking about this an epiphany strikes: there is very likely a connection to the suicidal impulses I feel when I am dismissed, degraded, and treated with other forms of disrespect and condescension. hmmm.... it makes a lot of sense why I have to fight my own brain and suicidal self-destruction impulsive intrusive thoughts when others wish for me to just disappear and dismiss or degrade me in an attempt to make me disappear. ...this theory makes a lot of sense in a lot of scenarios I have experienced recently actually... hmmm... interesting. 

Back to what I really came on here to write about: The incredible healing power of being treated with dignity and respect. 

This morning we met with the new Chief Prosecuting Attorney in the county where the charges were filed against me. The very lovely victim advocate I met with last week who helped set up the meeting was there to offer support. My husband was also there. I sat between the two of them as I talked with the Chief Prosecuting Attorney (how about we call him CPA). He listened, he asked questions, he treated me as if I were intelligent and knew what I was talking about. He treated me with dignity and respect. At one point, when I was starting to feel a bit defensive, he gave me a stern look and reprimanded with the common, "excuse me" or something like that, for my interrupting him. It is important to note that he was not rude, condescending or degrading, it was just that simple reminder that we all sometimes need when we need to allow the other person to speak. I appreciated his stern but respectful response, it made it very easy to correct myself, apologize, and listen to him. Especially since I knew from how he had been listening and treating me that he would listen when it was my turn again and after he said what he needed to or what he felt I needed to understand. 

It was very refreshing to finally be heard. 

One thing I noticed, and that I was very surprised by, was that I didn't cry at all. I think my eyes welled a tiny bit when I mentioned my son and out concern for him, but I was so composed and able to speak without the emotional interruptions that often require periods of silence for me to regain composure. I did occasionally loose my words but it was not too frequent and I was able to recover them fairly quickly. 

But the one thing that shocked me the most was the void of tremors. Although I was a bit shaky going in, while meeting with the CPA not even my increasingly tremory left hand revealed my "disability." 

I felt strong and confident. I felt more like me, the me that I really am.

On the ride home, my husband and I celebrated this tiny victory as we reflected on it and that is when I realized just how much of a difference it makes when you a: have support and b: are treated with dignity and respect. Those two things reduced the stress of the situation significantly.

This moment and those people deserved to be honored so I thank my husband and then once back home I sent the other two a quick thank you via email. That is when my eyes well and a few tears spill, but only a literal few. 

 Surprisingly the effects of being treated with dignity and respect don't end there, they hold. I was certain I would fall apart at some point, but I don't. I feel good and solid the entire day. My energy is good, my head does not hurt, and I have no tremors at all the entire day and this is such a pleasant surprise. It also helps me understand just how bad I really have been being treated by so many people at USU and those others I have had to deal with and try to resolve things with through this whole ordeal. Realizing this and feeling it helps me, and can continue to help me, recognize that it really is not me and I am truly not deserving of the treatment I have been receiving. Neither is my son. 

It also helps me appreciate those who have been a support, even if it is in very small ways. 

So that is good and I am glad and so very, very grateful.

...And now it is time to take my meds to make sure I don't get too glad and too grateful. What a weird disability to have.

(*published one day after events described)

Living to fight another day

 "Please let my heart fail before my brain does," I pray, because I know that would be so much easier on my kids and my husband. 

"I'd rather die than comply," I say in response to all the crap I keep hearing about getting the COVID 19 vaccine. I do not like how this pandemic has been handled; the divisiveness and fearmongering. In my opinion the psychological and environmental effects of how it has been handled by so many people, institutions, organizations, entities, governments, etc, has been far worse than the effects of the virus. And I don't love the world we are living in because of it. I don't love a lot about how people are treating each other and how I have been and am being treated myself. Why the hell would I comply with getting a vaccine because it might just save my life - A vaccine I don't believe in for a virus I that has proven to be not nearly as scary as they initially led us to believe it was; a virus that is being used by big cooperations and media as a money maker and is being used for political agendas that I do not agree with. I do not believe I am killing anybodies grandparents by not getting vaccinated and I do not believe children should have ever been told or made to believe that they are responsible for another persons death if they did not or do not wear a mask. That is horrible. So take it how you will, but I'd rather die than comply -add those other "trials and tribulations" and can you see why? 

The burdens right now feel too heavy. The prolonged stress of this is wearing me down. The continued  rejections, dismissals, denials, degradations, discrimination, is wearing me down. I am worried about my kids and how this shit has effected them. I am so worried about my son. He is so fragile right now but he is trying so hard not to be. I love him so much but there is so little I have been able to do to help him and the continued denials, dismissing, degradation is not just of me but of him also. I try to shield him from it but that is impossible and probably not wise, it will not help him to try and shield him from the chain of abuses that adult who should know better are excusing and justifying because of the one mistake he made one time when he was scared and distressed himself about how I had been being treated... 

This is not just a fight for me and my sake, it is a fight for his sake... 

but I am getting so tired and my brain is starting to malfunction because of it... Problems with working memory, focus, fatigue, emotions, filters, etc.  

So I pray, "please let my heart give in before my brain does" as I live to fight another day. 

feelings

Maybe blogging it out will help. 

School is starting again and I am nervous for my kids. Daughter is starting college. She is not ready and she is overwhelmed. I am worried about her. 

Son is starting his junior year and a new job. He is so fragile. He would not claim it, and he is trying, but I know he is trying so hard to not be fragile. I see it and I feel so much pain for him. This last year has been so hard on him. The crap I have gone through has been so hard on him... I pray constantly, hoping that people will be kind and give him a chance. Hoping he will find his courage again and find his voice. 

and I am sad... Not sure what to do with myself again or how to do it. I feel my potential has been lost to rumors and lies that people have spread about me that I cannot get ahead of. 

I feel worthless and insignificant. I feel forgotten and ignored. I hate that I wonder why I am here at all. 

I don't really know what to write... so I guess never mind. It's just not helping today...

I don't know what to do. I am so awkward now and nobody wants me, they do not see my potential... So maybe I don't actually have any. Yet I don't really believe that. Its just that rejection hurts and we, as a society, are still so far behind in how we treat people who have bipolar or who have had TBI. We, with bipolar and/or who have had TBI are so misunderstood, mis-categorized, stigmatized, ostracized, and mistreated... It's hard and exhausting and I am so lonely hear. 

Maybe it is time to run away again. 

Push Crash

 I'm supposed to stop and take a break if I am approaching 80% and/or before I crash... I am feeling so tired right now that I just want to go back to bed... But it is so early in the day and I haven't gotten hardly anything done... I don't want to stop and take a break. I don't want to feel so fatigued and worn down so early and after doing so little. "I'm not pushing myself hard enough," I think as I refuse to take a break. I am determined to be fine and capable. I have so many things I need to do and so many things that need to be done in order to keep fighting, but the thought of it weighs heavy like it is pushing me into the ground.

I pick up my laptop and decide to watch a training video. That might be a good break I think. I even take it to bed thus allowing myself to fall asleep while watching the video if that is really what my body needs. But my eyes start leaking as I open my laptop... Have I already pushed to hard? My eyes leak even more and I decide to come on here to write it out first. 

This is what this "disability" looks like. It is very hard to  accept and come to terms with and people really have no clue and rarely do they even try to. 

push crash happens too fast...

Plights and Fights and very painful Insights

 Sometimes my brain collapses in on itself and this is the best I can do. Blog

Hard time getting up this morning. Finally up. Get dressed and ready to go. I need to bring the expungement certificates to Cache County. I have been reluctant. I want to make sure that is the best thing to do, I want it gone completely, especially since the charges had been filed by "mistake" but they will still show up on background searches because teaching, what I do, and what I want to do, require higher security clearance so "it'll always show," I am told and, "you won't want to try and hide it," even after its expunged they tell me... I want to get it taken care of but how? I have tried but nobody seems to care that the prices of their "mistakes" have and continue to be so very high for me. 

This is too much right now. Too many stressful and overwhelmingly emotional things to handled. These are the times when I really know and have to face the fact that I do, in fact, have a disability.

And this is what it looks like. 

I have so much to do but I can't keep it all straight and it can easily become cognitively and/or emotionally overwhelming. I know when it has become cognitively and/or emotionally overwhelming because my heart changes it's patterns and functioning, I will feel a surge in chemistry, and I feel physically weak. I cry very easy and I become so very forgetful and tired. Sometimes so tired that I can hardly keep my eyes open... it becomes a battle to survive and thrive... then I feel guilty for being so weak. But it is not because it is intellectually difficult, it is because it is emotionally difficult and I am being treated poorly through it. 

... it's all I can do to keep going...

Too much. 

And my body is not allowing me to go today...

Jumping now.

Insurance papers form the car insurance; Explanation of Remittance. I'm not sure what they mean or what I am supposed to do with them. But in them there are notes from visits with my psychiatric PA. She documents "suicidal ideation" but that's not right because I'm not idealizing or contemplating it... It is more impulsive and intrusive... "Maybe I am misunderstanding the term ideation," I think. 

So I look it up. "Ideation: the formation of ideas or concepts." 

Okay, I suppose that is correct. 

These hits that hit so hard and hurt so deep, coming from people who should know better -and even declare evidence of that on their own websites - actually causes, triggers, encourages, (or whatever) the "formation of ideas or concepts" that equate to ones ceasing to exist. 

Why is that? 

It's pretty obvious really: they are telling you and sending the message loud and clear that you don't matter and they don't care. 

The not caring... We are supposed to think, "Whatever, who cares what you think," right? But in reality, when that comes from the exact people who should care, whose job it is to care, the ones who are supposed to be and that we believe are actively working to make a better more humane, fair and caring world... It cuts so much deeper than we allow it to... 

Jump. 

So many kids with anxiety issues. So much increase in depression, PTSD, suicide, and so many mental health issues... 

Connect

It's not terribly surprising now is it? 

and all I wanted to do was help... 

Story time: I got to hang out with an old friend. She is telling me about a brother's girlfriend's ex-husband who is the father of her child. "He has a criminal record that includes child abuse," friend explains as she expresses her concern and frustration with him being allowed, by the courts, to keep his child for longer than initial arrangements had allowed. 

It makes me wonder and I ask, "was he prosecuted for child abuse or just charged with it?" 

My friend doesn't know. It does not seem to matter all that much... and even I think so because we all know if he was charged for it then of course he did enough wrong to deserve the charges and he probably just had a good attorney...

"This," I point out, "is exactly what is wrong with my being wrongly charged. That is exactly what people will think about me." 

"Your right," she says, "and that is totally unfair." She knows I'd never do what they accused me of and she thinks it is so stupid that anyone ever even thought I would put my kid up to what they accused me of... She knows, but we both know others, who don't know me, who may be looking to employ me or admit me into grad school, will not know and will automatically assume that I stalk and harass people just because I was once charged for it. 

...so my heart breaks again seeing the reality of my plight...

and why I have to fight.

Pressing matters

Right now, sleep or write it out? Well here I am ... tears streaming again as I fight to stay brave and strong and try to get myself out of my way... 

It's unreal how Utah State University has violated so many of their own professed and published beliefs and standards and how they have no desire or concern about it in regards to me. Here's a fun example "We recognize racial trauma and intergenerational trauma has an effect on all aspects of the student experience including mental health and well-being. We offer resources, support, and advocacy to USU students through our student-centered programs for these specific struggles." https://www.usu.edu/student-affairs/ So they claim to understand "intergenerational trauma," which means they know the stress and discrimination I was facing would/could effect my kids, and yet multiple people from this Division of Student Affairs opted to exclude me and every person in my family from the promises their division makes, their obligations to due process, and procedural fairness that is published for the world to see on the homepage of their website. Read their website and all about how "The Division of Student Affairs inspires, engages, and challenges students through inclusive, holistic, student-centered programming," and maybe you might start to understand why I have to keep fighting.   

The more I dig the worse it is, which I know will ultimately help me because it is so blatant and obvious, but getting that help is very difficult, very time consuming and very taxing on anybodies brain. And for me we have to add to that the permanent scars of TBI in regions that effect emotions and abilities to focus etc. They should be sensitive to that, but, much like the Neuroscience Institute, instead, they are actually using those weaknesses and vulnerabilities to their advantage and a preponderance of evidence might very likely find that they have been (more likely than not) engaging in the act of intentionally pushing a person to their emotional limits in order to get them to back off and retreat...It's called intentional infliction of emotional distress. 

I am so tired when I should not be and need to not be, but my damaged brain can only handle so much... And it is beyond me why, amidst this, my tired brain keeps trying to return to that betrayer that it once felt was home. 

The effects of this? In addition to dramatically increased tremors and many other exacerbated symptoms, my eyes become heavy to the point that they can hardly stay open. If I force them to they will leak and release the hydrating resources of my metaphorically drought starved body. 

What to do?  It's distressing but I have to fight. Somebody has to stand up for students and people like me who are so flagrantly underserved and so brazenly marginalized. Especially when it is happening in a place like this, and this fight is much more straightforward that they previous beatings from IHC and Dr. He.

Hearts and souls heal slower than brains.

 I don't have time to write right now but I want to. For whatever reason I had this post open on a screen; https://amicrazy2.blogspot.com/2019/09/superman-takes-kryptonite-for-his-sanity.html At that point in time my TBI still had not been accurately diagnosed. It was still being labeled as a concussion or mTBI (mild traumatic brain injury). This blog entry makes even more sense knowing the TBI was more than just a concussion, especially when you consider this comment "I could feel the black dead ends that used to be well traveled routes and then I could feel it rerouting; doing something different to arrive at the same place."

Fascinating. 

Which brings me to what I really want to write out today. Yesterday I had a long late conversation with my daughter. Her planned breakup with her high school boyfriend is not going all that well. Even knowing if anyone could do it my daughter and her best-friend-boyfriend could, it's not all that surprising that it's not as easy as they had hoped it would be. 

Unfortunately for the ex-boyfriend he is feeling more heartbroken... and because of it he is behaving rather strange. 

As my daughter talks and tells me about all of the strangeness and how love triangles are turning into pentagons and hexagons etc. I can feel the pains of love and the confusion that accompanies it. "There are no right answers," I tell her as I fight back my own tears.

Memories return and feelings surge. Although they are significantly subdued they still manage to hurt as they push hydration up into my eyes. 

My daughter is also dealing with other things -trying to come to terms with how her own brain functions and malfunctions. She is careful, thoughtful and wise beyond her years. Part of this she attributes to me and I am grateful I have been able to help her be better off than she would have been. The dimensions of our brains are fascinating and I enjoy talking to her about it. But it also stirs those memories and the devastation I still feel from not being allowed to explore what really was happening to my brain when I was manic and manifesting but managing so well that my professionals on the matter were missing and denying it. 

It was so fascinating and I want to understand it from every angle. I want to discuss it and talk to those who were party to it in order to help progress the medical and psychological fields that address it. But I am refused that privilege and it feels so degrading and oppressive.

"Maybe someday," I say to myself as I struggle to refrain from attempting to reach out again in hopes that this time they'll listen and care... 

We could help each other so much and so many others...and this is what hurts me the most. Then tying back to my conversation with my daughter I begin to wonder again as phrases start haunting again, was it simply just a matter of heartbreak and a man-boy not knowing how to handle the feelings he was having? Maybe. 

Dear Dr. He, 

Has enough time passed that you might be able to reconsider the terms of our interactions? Forever and never... Do you remember?  I do. You don't believe in forever anymore - although I don't know what you meant- while I don't believe in never, my friend.  And I wonder, is it possible that we might find a better balanced medium between the two -forever and never, that is? 

By this I suppose I am really asking if you can you please reconsider your forever declarations of falling in love with me, declared by never having anything to do with me outside of therapy? I understand that it is unlikely you still feel this or have any feelings of fondness for me left at all and my rational logical brain has let you go as well. But the part of my heart you stole and the other part you implanted yourself in would benefit greatly from making amends. Maybe then I could sort you out and satisfy my soul that will forever keep trying to knock that door down in order to retrieve those pieces of me left behind.  Maybe then you can explain and I can refrain and retract the warnings I feel obligated to provide others who could also be so easily and devastatingly broken by you. The potential for good is so significant here, please let me help you help me and you help me help you too. 

You know how to find me, please do. 

Sincerely, 

Me

How to use Confirmation Biases to Oppress: #freebrittney and me

 ...just keep keeping on, believing in you and eventually you will pull through.

It's not going to work because I won't let it -the confirmation biases that is.

To my neurologist I say today, "maybe they are right about me. Maybe I'm not doing nearly as well as I think" after reading what USU is willing to release in regards to what has been said about me. 

He, professor Johnson never complained about me until AFTER I had asked to be removed from his class and I had complained about him. Then suddenly I am such a disruptor that he wants me removed and he throws out terms to feed and use confirmation biases to his advantage first planting then twisting and feeding those twisted understandings and beliefs about people with TBI's. 

Even though I know this and I feel prepared, it still hits me hard each time and, just to be fair, I find myself analyzing me to see if they just might be correct about me or if their degradations are true. To some degree maybe, but not to the degree he is using against me. 

It's so easy to see when you let go of those biases. At first I was frustrated again by their unwillingness to provide the records that show the truth. But that should not hurt me and cause me to doubt when I know what the reality really was. Show me. 

You say tangential speak and longwinded distractions, a negative influence in class, I was. Prove it. 

I don't disagree that I was causing Dr. Cristopher Johnson to feel insecure, but it is not likely quite due to how he has since manipulated others to perceive me to be. 

...aahhh, and I have been here before. 

Which could explain the heightened manifestations of traumatizations triggered by the backfiring of a car on the road this last week

Tangential? Not at all. 

The stress of what I am experiencing with USU is quite similar to the stress I experienced with IHC and the Neuroscience Institute. That stress and the reason I was there (IHC) was directly related to a car accident that caused a TBI that went misdiagnosed by the Neuroscience Institute and IHC for two years and contributed to significant problems for me with IHC. That increased stress and trauma. 

A backfiring motor sounds just like your car being hit; the initial injury that led to and increased so many of these insults. The added stress of USU makes me extra sensitive and a post traumatic stress response more likely. It's not so hard to figure out and not tangential at all.

Thus, maybe, my tangential might not be so tangential at all, but rather a term and a label used to plant, twist and then feed confirmation biases and the like. hmmm. Is this something a University should consider? You be the judge. 

 

What I personally don't appreciate is how these "experts" and "professionals" keep trying to say I am "crazy" and irrational when I not and not when I was. And then using all of it against me and forcing me to to continue to pay for everyone else's mistakes and negligence made in how they  "handled" and understand me. 

My sister, the prison guard, distrusts psychologist most because, as she has observed, their diagnosis somehow seem to conveniently match whatever benefits the diagnosing provider most. I see and I increasingly agree. 

Now it is time to #FreeBrittney and me from the labels and the abuses of confirmation biases and people who jump on the bandwagon with little to no regard for what's really going on and little desire to help the oppressed at all; playing with fire while feeding the flames of gas powered lighting.

Again, tangential? Or are they just having a hard time keeping up and feeling insecure about that? 

Wars and rumor of wars

I come on here to write sometimes because what I really want is someone to talk to. Someone who understands, someone who cares. 

The problem with people, facilities, institutions, and organizations handling certain types of countertransference the way they do is that they absolutely reinforce all of the rejections and negative perceptions we have about ourselves built on foundations that are often created by the negligent and/or selfish treatment of others who have debased and degraded us in so many different ways in the first place.

"I am not worthy of love and acceptance," is the message I keep receiving... and I can't seem to pull out of the external cycles that keep reinforcing those internal messages...

My safe place, my home rejecting me, when I was most vulnerable, to never again let me in.  

"Please don't shut the door on me completely," I plead, "or I'll just keep coming back trying to kick it down."

It was not a threat. It was not what I wanted or planned to do. It was not anything consciously intended at all. It was a response from my body, mind, soul and all parts of me telling him that I needed the safe place that he was for me while I was in the midst of the turmoil outside of his fortress. It was pure self-preserving instinct speaking. 

To better explain, imagine a child in a war torn dangerous place who happens to stumble across a rescue mission, a fortress surrounded by protective walls. The child is let in, made to feel safe and protected and given food or some other form of sustenance or protection to bring back to their own family. Family who is actively engaged in the wars that the child is yearning to escape. As the war becomes more intense, as it moves closer to the child's home and family, the child begins to understand that they don't want the war, they want to be part of the safety and peace that the mission is professing and claiming to be. The mission that had taken him in and offered the assistance and protection the child so desperately yearned for. 

When the war is at the child's door, ready to claim the life and liberties of the child the child flees and returns to the mission only to find the door shut tight, their previous saviors locked tight inside refusing to respond to the knocking, then pounding, of the frightened child whose life and safety is now in immediate danger. 

The child is not kicking and pounding at the door because they intend to hurt the mission, they are kicking and screaming because they are pleading for their life and begging for the help and protection that they know lies on the other side of that door as their assassins close in from all sides...

...Somehow I managed to survive on the outside; amidst so many warring forces. I had to negotiate, pretend, agree, fight, hide, and do whatever I had to in order to survive, one foot in both camps, at home and a fraud at all times -all while knowing this fortress exists but simply didn't want me anymore. 

How long can that last? How long can I survive in this warring world that does not want me either? 

Alone, running and hiding while somehow trying to connect and create a new space for myself that mimics the lie I once believed to be true: that I was worthy of love, appreciation, acceptance, help and protection, and even that I had value so significant it was scary to those who could utilize it best for the benefit of themselves and others amidst the tumultuous times....

A lie. A heart breaking and devastating lie? Or is it the truth and those on the other side of the wall, hiding behind their fortress walls, are simply cowards? Maybe cowards who don't really care to accomplish the mission they profess to be working at and toward and collecting money for? 

Tired. Sad. Brain stumbling again. Relationships impossible to navigate anymore because I am not worth saving and that impacts every aspect of your life. Others will believe it too, when they know that you have been rejected by the mission that claims to be the protector of your exact kind. They make you wrong to ease their own fears that maybe our worshipped gods of Dr's and PhD's might not be gods after all. Then, once labeled, by those same perceived gods, confirmation biases becomes the oppression used to control. -

...Now that'd be a good study, "How are confirmation biasses used to oppress marginalized populations?"

Maybe those on the other side of the wall are actually the warlords creating the wars while claiming to be the safe places and sanctuaries for the refugees of their own destructions. 

Tired and sad. 

sleep to reset. Maybe that is all that I need...

and inside me I hear and I am reminded, "he doesn't care, he's not going to read it, he's embarrassed by you and ashamed." 

move on. move on. please feet keep working. Please keep me moving on... don't try to go back to the lies. 

 

Turn Around Bright Eyes

 When I rolled the 300K mile Jetta with my kids in carseats in the back, I had a clairvoyant moment in which I understand completely the concept of faith, as the car floated over and landed softly topside down. 

I crawled out the window of my car and with the help of a shaken passer by we retrieved my two children who were hanging upside down in their carseats. My daughter hung a bit longer than my son since she was retrieved second. I suspect that is why she had a slight red mark on her shoulder where the carseat belt held her securely upside down. Aside from that the only other injury between the three of us was a small cut on my left pointer finger. 

That cut healed a little slower than expected, and left a rather bulging scar that was slightly tender, but it seemed to be all the way healed. Then months later a strange thing happened, a small shard of glass worked its way out of the old injury and the bulging scar. The bulk disappeared and now the scar is hard to find.

Injuries can be very interesting and it is fascinating how differently our bodies can respond to foreign objects that become embedded in them. Like slivers. You can get a tiny to large sliver from any number of things and they can range from unnoticeable to quite painful. Some have to be pulled out but others will actually work themselves out on their own. Sometimes the skin will heal over and the body will hardly care it is there while other times the tiniest sliver can quickly turn into a nasty infection. Some slivers, especially if it is from certain species of plants and/or animals can actually work their way deeper into your tissues, like porcupine quills. This is why we usually try to get the buggers out even if they are not bothering us in ways that cause pain.

Glass shards. They can be slivers and they can embed and do the same thing. 

But what about the pieces and shards of people left in our hearts as they splinter and pull away from us? 

What do you do about those? How do you remove those? Is it better to remove it or let it work is way out? Or will they work themselves deeper inward if ignored and left to their own devices? Which is more likely to destroy the tender heart of the person whose heart was pierced; pull the shards out or leave them be? Do we need to become like Ironman and develop some fancy sophisticated mechanism that keeps the potentially deadly shard from breaking our heart completely by keeping them from going either in or out?

... a few days ago I blogged out some of my anger and frustration. The name of Dr. He making its way out on this published blog again. He who should not be named. 

Was it a mistake to name him? Could that cause me more harm? Could it harm him? Determined to quite believing in the ideals that may at times imbalance my ability and choices in acting, I chose again to leave that name up; an effort to stop protecting a person who may be causing similar harm to others...

...But a few shards of him are still left in my heart and since not all the pieces had worked themselves out something was activated... and I am again reminded of the good and ideals that I still want to believe...

What is this? What does it me? And what to do about it? 

I think of my friend far away who understands the betraying countertransference creature... I am confident she would understand, better than any, my blogging of these last few days. And I reflect on the power I seem to be giving by renaming that which I want benign. 

Some shards have worked themselves out and that progress I do not want to undo or reverse. But also some pieces of me I don't want to loose, so I decide it is a mistake and I unpublished his name. 

Unnamed he is much more benign and so am I to his good works and positive potential that -in spite of it all, I still know that he has some. My hope that he might help more than he hurts. 

Such a strange place to be... But it's also faith in me, that I might help more than I hurt as well. 

He said he'll never have anything to do with me outside of therapy, and he doesn't believe in forever anymore. But I do believe in forever, and I don't believe in never -Now what is to be done about that?

I don't know.

but I do know that mistakes are often correctable and I am allowed to make them too. 

However I'd like to remain the type of person that will try not to make them at the expense of others and I will correct them whenever I can.  

It's a motto and a hope that others might live by those standards -so often proclaimed declarations of their professions. Declarations and professional standards that too often get swept under the rug and hidden with skeletons in closets that fill up too quickly with a lot of easily correctable and reversible mistakes. It's baggage that does not need to be denied, hidden and held onto by those to whom it does not belong. You need to understand that taking my baggage, hiding it, and lying about it does not lighten my load or yours  at all. Even if you leave some of your own baggage with me. 

 

 

Yesterday

 "Love was such an easy game to play. Now I need a place to hide away."

Oh, do I believe in yesterday?

hmm. Yesterday. I was angry and posted it. Today I am angry and blurry. My brain is struggling to stay ahead of the negligent and intentional "inflictions of emotional distress." 

And the ringing in my ear keeps on nagging. Reminding me that I have permanent and lasting damage... reminding me that these struggles are further compounded by that... and the ringing keeps nagging

... but this time it is also a gentle reminder. A comforting ringing that reminds me that I am here, I am present, and I am STRONG enough to fight and keep fighting. 

Renee says I don't have to fight. And she is right. But she is also not quite right. I think I know and understand what she means, but it's still and truly a fight that I don't think it quite right to deny at this particular moment in time. 

Which I suppose is why I am here right now. Because I am choosing to fight it. Or maybe a more correct phrasing is to handle it; I am choosing to handle it. Not to ignore it, not to pretend, not to allow, not to suppress, and not to accept the oppression, bad treatment, dehumanizing, degrading, and violations of my rights.

Yesterday. I was mad and I named the name of he who should not be named because I do not wish to keep protecting him. It is a foolish thing to do considering he would have rather I died than admit he made a mistake. Or, again, he really was up to no good and there were no mistakes but intentional abuses of power, position, and influence. alas.. who cares, he's a schmuck and we know it. It is sad and I wish it to not be so and admittedly I still cling to the notion that it might not be true, but alas, that has done no good; so I leave the post up as evidence and testimony to my efforts to let go of those notions and words that the reality of actions have disproven.

still cares, more true than who cares, which is a part of me that is worth embracing. 

truth, justice, concern for others, forgiving, determined, intelligent...

I am on here now to turn myself around. Change my perspective again and let go of the darkness that is trying to pull me now, trying to destroy me again. 

It's pretty amazing how dark the world and people can be and how little regard they can hold for others. It's shocking to me... 

Still shocking. and sad. And I think that is how I would like to stay. I do not want to join their dark deprives and I will not let there bigotry destroy me.

Proud. I can be. I am allowed. Proud because I can pull myself out IN SPITE of the added challenges pulling me down.

To the grave.

I will not go. Not now, not yet, I have too much still left to do. 

Turning around is starting to work and I am feeling lighter, freer, and happier again. 

Now for an anecdote of gained understanding, empathy and compassion that I'd never have been able to understand otherwise: The discrimination I have faced is quite real and incredibly frustrating ESPECIALLY when it comes from the industry in which I perceive so much potential for good; that being the field of psychology. It has caused me to reflect on issues of racism and other forms of prejudice, bigotry and discrimination. I think of how blacks were not allowed to participate in sports just because they were black even though so many of them are so naturally and biologically athletically gifted. An area where they had so much potential and yet they were not allowed to participate, and dismissed, ignored, degraded and even vilified, when they tried... You have no idea, until you have lived it, just how demoralizing and dehumanizing, degrading, and how unequivocally unfair this really is... 

Then to be vilified for trying and criminalized when someone else tries to stand up and speak out for you and at times and without your knowledge of it even happening... We, as a society, a country, as individuals and institutions still have such a long way to go. 

So I fight. Not just for me but for all minorities and marginalized people. I will fight alone if I have to and harder when I need to. I will keep fighting; being the pain in the ass I am accused of being, until the asses quit sitting on people and crushing their hopes, dreams and potential for good in this world. It is quite demoralizing and dehumanizing to be sat on; so if you'd like your pains in the ass to stop being that then maybe you should sit your ass by our sides and try listening to the pains you are determined to squelch. 

To those we hate to have loved (and trusted).

"my life is very complex right now," says the man who was screwing with my brain when he was supposed to be my champion.

You have no f*@% idea.

that word is coming out...

Which means I am struggling more than I care to let on in realtime.

I am angry. I am tired of being treated with so little regard. I am tired of knowing too much and having to fight for the most minimal of fair treatment. I am tired of being ignored and unheard. I am tired of being expected to be what everyone else needs me to be. 

I am angry that people at Utah State University are being as stupid, disrespectful, bigoted as they are. I am shocked by the police chief, captain, and officers there. Shocked. I understand now why people want to defund the police. 

I am angry for injustices others have suffered. I want to scream until I am heard.

And those damned images just keep coming back, a symptom of rejection, and what society is feeding.

Trapped.

I feel trapped and I am so damn mad at Dr He. The creator of my demise. 

I have a million times changed my perspective and come at it all from different angles. I went to school with high hopes, faith, and the most confidence I could muster only to have it turn into the shit that it has.

Bad people. USU, Cache county, has a lot of bad people. 

too many...

I used to think that people were basically good... But now I know otherwise. They are corrupt, ignorant, unkind, deceitful, and lemming like. A witch hunt. A a band wagon. That is what they resort to, excited by the prospect of drama, but not real drama, only one families trauma, that they deep down know is safe to attack so they can pretend to be hero's by bullying... Utah State University, what a great school (that is sarcasm, in case you did not pick up on that). 

tired.

not broken...

but entirely broken.

hurt

angry

lonely,

sad

denied

rejected

reduced

I hate you Dr. He, because you made my life so much more complex than it needed to be and when it already was. Are you proud? of how you screwed up my brain, of how you had more control than I ever allowed you to have and in spite of my resistance? Are you happy to know that I still struggle to keep you out of my head and that piercing shards of you still remain in my heart? Or are you disappointed that I did not die for you and/or because of you?  

Dr. He, the most deceitful person I have ever let into my heart, Are you proud? 

I am more than you ever deserved and more than you will ever know. Someday you will cease to exist and I will no longer long or wish for resolve of the lies you told, planted and nourished. I will, someday, break free of this and your name will be as benign and obsolete as it is to the rest of the world... Some day...

and what a sad thing, your existence as obsolete, insignificant, and unimportant as you have made me to be. 

So Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas, Someday I will break free. 

and Same to you USU, the University of Bigotry 

 *7/25/21- update: Name changed... refer to blog entry from today 7/25/21

The Little Red Hen and other fairly common tails of bigotry.

 Blog it out. That is what I feel like doing in this moment. Instead of closing my eyes again.

"Who will help me...?" Asked the Little Red Hen.

"Not I."

"Not I." 

"Not I."

"Then I will do it myself," said the Little Red Hen. And she did.

That is how I feel right now. There are laws, there are rules, there are constitutions that should have and should still be protecting myself and my son who made that pesky phone call. There are... but trying to have your rights protected when those in power have decided yours don't count, is very difficult. 

But that is my job now. It is a big part of why I wanted to get that master's or PhD in psychology, to help end such blatant and damaging discrimination and bigotry... To walk away from this fight I give up my rights and agree to the devaluing, degrading, and damaging not just of myself but of my son and of others who have similar disabilities or that have been discriminated against in similar ways. 

It is not okay. It is not Okay for me to be criminally charged because a professor was treating me bad enough to trigger PTSD and to upset a kid enough that the kid felt he needed to fight back. 

The culture of victim shaming and blaming being fully supported and upheld by Utah State University and Cache County prosecuting attorneys -who actually did not even have jurisdiction over the situation. It should have gone to the Juvenile Courts and the Utah Legal Code: "(2) The Legislature finds it is necessary to provide child victims and child witnesses with additional consideration and different treatment than that usually afforded to adults. The treatment should ensure that children's participation in the criminal justice process be conducted in the most effective and least traumatic, intrusive, or intimidating manner."
https://le.utah.gov/xcode/Title77/Chapter37/C77-37_1800010118000101.pdf

Utah State University's false allegations of me made my son a victim and he was clearly a witness. Wad he treated according to Utah Code? No, this clearly did not happen. 

At all. Instead the pursued the most intrusive, intimidation and traumatic for both the kid and his family. 

And that is just one violation by Utah State University and the Utah State University Police. 

It is mind boggling to me that they would proceed in such a way as to cause irreversible damage to me when they knew it was not me that made the call and that it was a kid. It is weird to me that people would suspect that I put the kid up to it, especially if you look at and consider the circumstances and how I was handling the situation. 

But bigotry and prejudices create a lot of weird misconceptions about people. 

Yesterday I read, in the APA journal, about how the field of psychology prides itself in being scientific and its scientific research, but that psychology in the US is to US oriented and thus cannot be generalized to the broader world population.

...Big Sigh...

Maybe the real problem is the way we look at and approach scientific research and how we use it to overgeneralize. 

"anomaly" 

"outlier"

"You present well"

 I don't fit the generalized findings of research.... Of course I don't. I don't want to. I am human and an individual. Not a number, not the summery of generalized and overgeneralized findings. 

Science and the scientific approach psychologists value so much according to the APA demand discrimination, yet discrimination destroys individuals, communities, etc. and we know this

Jumping again now my brain is wanting to scream about the whole "mental illness" label. It's a condescending and degrading term that does not apply to people who are carefully, conscientiously, and successfully managing their psychological and physiological mental differences. It's why I am slightly angry with the gays; because they abandoned the rest of us with this degrading term and doing so has actually increased the overgeneralized condescension of the term...

Sigh... sigh...

Maybe I will go close my eyes again... because they are starting to leek. 

Extending tolerance and compassion

Not many reads for determined little weeds

but that's just how it is for us 

when we are perceived as nothing more than weeds.

And that's not what I came on to write but I'm a bit discouraged by the numbers that stay so very low... even though

I keep fighting to get and stay ahead

of my broken head

that is discriminated against and held against me

by the very people who should know better and are in the positions to create positive change. 

Yet, the harder I try the more it is used against me. Sometimes it really seems that people have no idea and are so very ignorant about how harsh, intolerant and mistreating they really are. Sometimes I do wish my "disabilities" were more visible and better understood. I wish they were part of the trendy disadvantages, like certain (and only certain) races and and physiological problems are.

But they are not. So moving one

Brazil man. I told the story about him and what I learned to a small group the other day. I admitted that I felt guilt and shame for my own personal biases and prejudices, my misunderstanding, misconceptions and even discrimination of him. "Don't beat your self up," on of the group members tell me. 

I don't. My referencing guilt and shame is what has this group member and others concerned when I tell them I felt it. Anyone that knows me knows that I was not likely as unkind or unfair as many others would be. But that does not matter, I was not as kind and fair as I like to be and feel I should have and could have been. But the bigger concern I have in this moment with that group is the misunderstanding of guilt and shame. So I explain:

Guilt and shame have there place and that was an appropriate time for me to feel it. I am glad that I did.  I am glad that I felt it because it means I was aware and that I have a conscience. Feeling it caused me to reflect on the situation. It let me know that I did something wrong or that went against my core values and beliefs. It caused me to analyze the situation and by doing so I was able to recognize how deeply entrenched the biases, misconceptions, prejudices and discriminations are in the societies and cultures I come from and how deeply entrenched they were in me. It helped me see some of the harmful errors in our USA ways. It helped me to confront my own biases and discriminating actions against not only this man but others and even against my own self. 

This situation helped me to make a choice, then and there and multiple times since, about how I perceive and treat others who are labeled as "crazy," about how I treat myself, and about how and what I do to help bring about changes... 

which I suppose is ultimately why I am sad about the low numbers and the losses of opportunities that have come as a result of those exact problems with our USA culture -because of those those deeply engrained and deeply entrenched biases, prejudices,  misunderstandings, misconceptions, stigmas and discriminating practices.

Sometimes this burden makes my head heavy and tired and my eyes taught with sight blurring liquid. The burden actually exacerbating symptoms of the disability that I have... and I often find myself wishing that Pride month extended to all of us who have had to carry those labels of "mentally ill" and that have been discriminated against and ostracized for those conditions that kind of set us apart.   

For the record, I am no more or less "ill" than a homosexual. The difference is that my conditions are still labeled, officially and otherwise, as "mental illness," and I am still perceived to be, labeled as such, and heavily discriminated against for it, much like gays were just a few years ago. 

But I am not alone in this. I am speaking for many kind and valuable people who are silenced more than you care to know and are used, abused, ostracized, stigmatized, overgeneralized about and lumped into categories that we do not belong in.... so many heartbreaking and devastating stories I know but that are not mine to share. So I share mine and give you permission to share mine as well. Not because I am "self promoting" but because I want to help people and I want deep and meaningful changes to happen on individual and societal and cultural levels. 

So this month as you challenge your views and perceptions of others who may have different ideas, values, beliefs about sexuality and gender please consider challenging your views and others about people with very real physiological conditions and disadvantages that are still labeled as "mental illnesses" and still significantly misrepresented, misunderstood and heavily discriminated against when they are trying to work through their conditions and learning how to adapt and live with them. It's not easy and we also need love, acceptance, tolerance and compassion. 

Thank you for taking the time to read. 

Determined little weeds

I want to blog about these pretty little things. 

Like this short sweet little guy found in my yard

  And these unusually tall versions found in the shady and plant crowded foothills of the mountains by me. 

Look close, there are a few, and they are very tall. 

 I especially loved the tenacity, determination and resilience shown by this particular sweetie as it stretched and reached anyway it possibly could to reach sunlight; a resource it needs to survive. 

That is what I wanted to blog about. And it does fit but something more is haunting again... and it is so, literally, exhausting. I had dreams about dreams and hauntings of the He who would not let me be what I really was but instead turned me into a perceived liability... 

Hauntings. Dream disturbances. Dreams of dreams and trying to figure out in my dreams which experiences were real and which were previous dreams... I lived a lot of lives in those days but some were merely dreams. Waking up already depleted and defeated again. Dr. She says that is PTSD. 

Okay. 

But why? Why must I be made out to be a bad guy when I was/am trying my hardest to #1 get the help I need, and #2 trying to help bring about positive changes for others so they can get the help they need. 

And there is a #3 to it to that hurts due to how ignored and discredited I have been for it, #3 trying to help and protect even those that caused the harm to me. 

PTSD... It's weird.

So is mania

and TBI

and the lasting effects those have on yourself and your relationships.

But today I am not as sad as my dreams want me to feel. I am happy, strong and confident because that is what I am determined to be. It's just a matter of stretching and reaching for the sunlight and resources I need. 

...but... it's still hard. and it still hurts... Especially when I have to go through all of those messy records to try and get the resources I actually am supposed to be "entitled" to. 

Stretch and reach. Stretch and reach. I have done it before and I can do it again. 

slipping

 I feel myself slipping into depression. I don't want to and I am trying to fight it, to stay afloat... I am tired. and part of me wants to allow myself to slip into oblivion. What am I actually fighting for? If I am fighting alone? 

This is how, why and when we lose. 

But right now I have to keep fighting because I have kids. Kids that would hurt and be angry. Kids that might blame themselves...

So "fight harder" I hear Dr. She say to me so many months ago.

Fight harder again.... but the fight is more outside than inside anymore... and it seems to be what the world is telling me. Am I selfish for not listening? For not shutting up and disappearing the way they all want me to?

"It's a symptom" I remind myself... 

My Dad

 My dad admits that he was not always the best listener. In my younger years, high school and jr high days, sometimes we'd get into fights and then we'd go for a ride. I don't remember why or how this arrangement would actually come to pass, but I do remember that going for a ride meant he was going to stick with me as we fought through what we needed to and then we would reach some form of understanding. 

These last few days I have been worried a little about my dad. He needs time to process and it seems as if he does not want to stick it out... Is he okay? Is he suffering more than I know. I thought maybe I should show up and take him for a ride. But then he called to check in today. That is a relief. He says he is okay. He is coming around again, caring enough to stick it out even though it makes him uncomfortable. He felt bad about bringing up the emotions again for me today. "Dad they are always there, but it is much worse trying to figure it out and handle this alone and on my own." I was glad he was trying to help even if it does not feel like he is helping. 

It matters. 

We talk more. I explain a little and he starts to pick up on the depth and complexity of how things like what is happening with USU really effects people and how it has been effecting me. "Is that an issue right now?" he asked concerned about suicidal thoughts. 

"It's not suicidal thoughts," I explain, "it is the impulses that come on strong and with a vengeance through crap like this. They seem to hit each time they hit."

My dad surprises me, "Those are very scary and dangerous," he says. 

I don't know why it surprises me that he has learned to understand it so well, because it was very obvious that an impulse is what killed my younger brother and my dad's eldest son. I don't tell him that the fight with him triggered these intrusive impulsive thoughts. 

I think it is just a shocking contrast to how he perceived these issues and his understanding of such things when I was a teen. Depression was handled with, "quit feeling sorry for yourself," "suck it up" and, "get over it." If I had mentioned suicidal thoughts then I'd have been lectured for it and probably given a church type of lesson. In those years my dad would have probably told me that was stupid and I better not do something stupid like that. Or he would have ignored it and just been embraced or disappointed that I ever thought such things. Now he understands, the impulses are scary and they do not necessarily come from you - you as in who you are. They come from something else; nature, nurture, instinct, injury, chemistry, and a million messages received from external sources all rolled up into intense bursts of images and instant solutions to the fights that are constantly wearing on you. 

Impulses are dangerous. And my regulation of those is compromised because of the injury to the portion of my brain that is most efficient at handling impulses. Added external stresses, especially unjust and unnecessary, depletes my abilities to fight while triggering thoughts that directly stem from the messages they are sending; that I don't matter and they want me to go away. 

People talk big about suicide prevention... but when it comes right down to it, most do not care to learn or understand the realities and even those who are supposed to be professionally trained will carelessly and callously contribute to the triggers and messages that feed the intrusive impulsive thoughts. 

I suppose, as I reflect right now, I am glad that I had a dad that, though misguided at times, at least taught me how to push through and how to fight it out...