annoyed

 Tired but not sleeping.

 I have been doing so well. Especially since upping my dose of quetiapine another 100mg. So why am I not sleeping. Lying in bed, tired, but sleep is eluding me... My mind, although it is not racing it still won't sleep.

Prior to, going to bed, I was feeling those feelings a bit again. Annoying. And baffling. Why on earth does my mind play that way, even still, at certain times and for no seeming reason at all? Perplexing. And even a bit fascinating. The trap. 

Annoyed also by the media's portrayal again and again of "bipolar" and the "mentally ill." At least this time, in the reference watched, they included a quote from a judge, the court, or some knowledgeable professional who pointed out that many people have the same diagnosis and mental illnesses but that they do not do things so egregious as the person in this show - the person that those narrating keep reminding us is "mentally ill" in so many ways that suggest that is the reason for this persons wretchedness. It is not. So I am glad for the statement, but one statement does little to counter the previous and following slew of biased and bigoted statements against the bipolar demographics of our societies. 

I am so tired of this. 

Bipolar does not make one bad, evil, or criminal and many many bad, evil, and criminal people are not at all bipolar. 

It's very misunderstood. 

And very likely there are various kinds, more than just I and II. I'd even be willing to wager my insurance settlement (that is a fraction of what it should be) that there are ways to measure true manic episodes with brain imaging, hormone levels and/or some other physiological means. I bet, if those 0h-so-brilliant doctors and scientist would start consistently testing they would find more significant and common patterns emerging. Patterns that they could then use to predict, measure, and even diagnose. I bet they'd then find that they can better and more accurately treat the varieties and conditions of bipolar in ways that are much more effective and efficient and that would benefit everyone greatly. 

Annoyed. 

I am annoyed that so much science, reason, and common decency is lacking for those with this burden to bare. 

"Is this why I am not sleeping?" I wonder. But alas, it is not. Such annoyances no longer cause sleepless nights. A bit sad is the reality of what that means, which is that it is TOO DAMN COMMON. 

But still, this is not why I am still tired but wired wide awake. 

"Damn drugs," I growl as I remember the side-track that kept me from taking them tonight.

"Stupid, dumb Seroquel..." I curse as I roll out of bed and sulk down the stairs to my cocktail cabinet to find my begrudged drug of choice. 

begrudged and beloved... I am both sad and glad to have it. 

It is still very strange to me just how much I need it and how much of a miracle it has been and continues to be...

I am knotting and tearing now as I reflect on this journey but only enough to keep me safely in check. I am so sad that I need it as much as I do and both surprised and disappointed that my brain is still so fragile that even forgetting one night I won't sleep and cycles return...

So sad that this is my new norm. And that I have to keep facing it with so much oppression and so many oppressive misunderstandings and misrepresentations. So sad and mad at the injustices that I am not allowed a fair fight or representation in. 

Cache County prosecution; the new oppressive regime. They attempted to criminalize me for nothing I did, the harsh punishment and trials of their "honest mistake" falling solely on me (and my family). Yet, even with admission from the horses mouth of the horses who acted criminally against me, they say the evidence is "too subjective" to file charges or even to investigate for the crimes against me and my family that actually in reality happened and have caused us significant harm. Their transgressions are not subjectively interpreted misdeeds made by a child or stories made up and then attempted to prove; they are actually committed and documented violations of my, and possibly my son's, civil and legal rights. So why aren't they criminally charging now?

It is enough to drive a person insane. Gaslighting their fun little game. (and actually the most likely culprit for the needed upping of doses.)

Freaking jack asses and puppets of masses. Good ole boys club, each others ego's to rub. and whatever else they demand from each other. I'd rather stay out of that perverted matrix of misogyny anyway. 

...Kicking in. I'm tired again. And this time in the form that will actually allow me to sleep. Good night. 

Civil Rights and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

 Dr. Martin Luther King Junior is one of my all time greatest heroes. I have so much admiration for him and he offers so much insight and inspiration. 

I love that man.

Right now I am trying to help my daughter with her IB IAs, EEs, HL's, cc's eps or whatever the heck they are... what I know is it is a ton of research and writing and, with all she has been doing and the the stupid ways Covid has effected her education, it is an awful big load for her. So one way she asked me to help is to read some of Dr. Kings works so I could discuss with her the topic she is presenting for one those previously referenced acronym labeled papers. This is a way I am happy and excited to help. 

I am now reading MLK's Letter From Birmingham Jail. I have read this letter before and was absolutely blown away by it and by Dr. King and that is happening again as I read it this time. 

His tenacity and commitment to his cause is so impressive. This is a black man who managed to obtain a Phd at a time when that was virtually impossible and there were even laws in place to make this even more difficult. Yet he did. But this is significant for many more reasons then most will initially recognize and one of those reasons is because it means that Dr. King was in a significantly better position then the people he was standing up for and standing with. He could have easily enjoyed certain levels of privilege and freedom that other racial minorities seldom did, and he even could have benefitted all the more for it in numerous ways if he wanted to. But he did not place himself above his "colored" kin nor was he willing to capitalize on their tragedies. He was held and high esteem and regard by many people from both black and white demographics, but he would not bask in this glory for his own gain, rather he used it to help his repressed and underprivileged peers. 

And he did it with so much strength of character, vigor, and commitment that I am awe inspired every time I read about him or from him. 

He served jail time for such unjust reasons, yet it did not deter him. He was threatened, his house was bombed, and abused, yet he kept going and kept fighting. (https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/peace/1964/king/biographical/ He endured so much.

So, for many reasons, I am brought to tears as I read and think about this great man. One of those reasons is because of how I can relate. It has shocked me at time's how well he describes some of the exact things I -a white female so many years later- am enduring. In his Letter From Birmingham Jail he says:

"I MUST make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the last few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the White Citizens Councillor or the Ku Klux Klanner but the white moderate who is more devoted to order than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says, "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I can't agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically feels that he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by the myth of time; and who constantly advises the Negro to wait until a "more convenient season." Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection."

Now lets substitute a few words:

"I MUST make two honest confessions to you, my [fellow public service sector workers]. First, I must confess that over the last few years I have been gravely disappointed with the [TBI and/or psychological industry professionals]. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the [TBI survivor and/or "mentally ill" person's] great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom [, healing, recovery, and fair treatment]  is not the [average ignorant and discriminating people we face everyday] but the [TBI and/or psychological industry professionals and law enforcement officials] who [are] more devoted to order than to justice; who prefer a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says, "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I can't agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically feels that he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by the myth of time; and who constantly advises the [TBI survivor and/or "mentally ill person"] to wait until a "more convenient season." Shallow understanding from people of good will [and who are supposed to be the professionals on your condition] is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection." 

...and now I need sleep because this can be a lot for my brain to handle... the disadvantage that I have that Dr. King did not have and one of the main reasons I cry and am crying now as I read his great works. I physically cannot fight the way he did... the very disadvantage that has me fighting and wanting to be as strong as MLK are what keeps me from being able to AND what keeps my people stuck in the ignorant stigma's and biases that keep us underserved, underprivileged, disadvantaged, misunderstood, taken advantage of, abused, and repressed...

time to step away. I am exploding out of my eyes again...

Injustices are tolerated, accepted and even expected for my kind and the biggest resent-able difference between my plight and that of Dr. King's is that we (my people) are not really told to "wait until a 'more convenient time,'" rather we are told, "that's just how it is." My civil rights are an easy century behind the civil rights of women in general and minority races....

So I fight, as week as it is, and I hope someday civil rights of all people will be protected and I wonder if it would have been better to have let my criminal charges go to court; if by doing that I may have found some protection in the upset of the judge at his prosecuting attorney's being up to no good. But who knows who is really part of the Cache County good'ol'boys club.. 

Modern day crusader, reframer, or is it PTS?

 Reframing your thinking is a really great skill to have. ... and I think this entry is going to be, as Renée would put it, a kersplat-splat kind of entry.

Crusader. 

More than once I have been labeled as such. But I don't really think of myself as that. I struggle to get out of bed too much to be a crusader. And I struggle to find the energy and will to keep trying and keep fighting.  I lose my steam and hide away far too much to be a crusader. 

Two days ago my attorney friend called me this, a crusader. Then I met with my dear sweet friend Renée who has called me a Joan of Arc. So I found myself reflecting on this idea and, as you see from the previous paragraph, that today's conclusion is that I am not really a crusader. But these thoughts are my thoughts today as I try to find in me the strength to make certain phone calls and write to certain people. 

Kersplat and rewind to the day before yesterday, when I tell my husband that my attorney friend says I am a crusader. He says, "I've told you that before."  This feeds the epiphany of that moment which was, "Well, if I am crusader then let me be a crusader." Not that my husband was discouraging it, rather, I was speaking to myself. 

Earlier that day, with Renée, she reminded me and helped me to reframe my thinking. She did not mean to, she just has that kind of positive influence when she shares her story and shows me how she is handling it. Her story is so tragic and her tiny female frame has endured far more than any person should ever have to go through, yet she is still so kind and generous. She keeps trying and keeps working on herself and what she can do. She has to choose everyday to wake up and be a warrior in ways that few will ever understand or appreciate. Renée is choosing to fight by trying to speak out in ways that highlight the positive of the victims. She has very righteous indignation and has suffered injustices that are beyond appalling from individuals and the systems that are supposed to protect her. Yet she is reframing in order to handle it in ways that keep rage and anger from over-powering her and turning her into a similar creature of destruction. I am so impressed by how massively amazing this tiny little lady is. 

And this is how she helped to me reframe two days ago: I do not need to keep fighting, I just need to keep speaking. 

So I couple that with the crusader comments and that is what led to the epiphany of: I might as well crusade if I am a crusader....

But crusading these days and in this country looks very different than it did in Joan of Arc's days. 

And today, as I struggle -as I mentioned earlier-, as I fight to overcome the "learned helplessness" and the beat-downs of the injustices, I am certain, that I am not a crusader... I am only a tired old lady who won't shut up and is haunted by PTS (post-traumatic-stress) when I try to.  -PTS, that is what Dr. She pointed out to me yesterday. That is what it she says the haunting is, and this makes sense.  

damned if I do and damned if I don't

2:06 pm and I still haven't gone for a walk. I made 1 phone call, left a message. I took a nap before that. And I look at my front door... too scared to leave. A new sort of homebody that I have never been before. This is not me. I not really scared... and yet it is and I am. 

too scared to leave, too scared to follow through with the many projects I have started. I am not a crusader... I am just a victim.

It's not what I want to be, but right now that is all that I am. No voice, no one listening, and no fights being won. A crusader is only a crusader if they are heard and if they have some power of influence. 

Furthermore, I don't think that standing up for oneself really makes one a crusader. Being a victim who won't shut up about it, is not at all the same as a crusader... It's just a person trying to not be a victim anymore. That is very different.

I am not a crusader. I am scared and scarred and today I give up and I give in. 

Did Bipolar Kill Elisa Lam?

 Bipolar.

It's a life threatening illness that people don't dare talk about. Or maybe just I don't dare talk about it in regards to me... I have learned, it brings trouble and people will use it against you. But it needs to be talked about. 

Elisa Lam. 

You can read about her here: https://people.com/crime/what-to-know-about-elisa-lams-death-featured-in-netflixs-the-vanishing-at-the-cecil-hotel/

here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Death_of_Elisa_Lam

you can watch the mysterious elevator video of her here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_rfLSVIA0L0

And the criticism of the Netflix documentary -that I agree with, although I am not so sure the criticism goes far enough- you can read here: https://www.cnet.com/news/netflixs-cecil-hotel-documentary-an-irresponsible-bloated-mess/

My husband was watching the Netflix documentary about Elisa Lam and the Cecil Hotel in LA and her mysterious disappearance and death that were never satisfactorily explained. After enduring some of the second episode I was bored with it and a bit annoyed in ways similar to those mentioned in the aforementioned article on cnet.com. So I did a little research on my own.

Apparently Elisa Lam had bipolar. That same life-threatening condition that I have and that I have learned is not safe to talk about since I will, more often than not, be discriminated against for it and/or treated differently in ways that tend to feed the negative side of normal human duality and the more abnormal duality of bipolar. This is a contributing factor to why so many people with bipolar stop taking medication. Something that the autopsy reports of Elisa Lam suggested she may have done. It is reported that trace amounts of the medications used to treat bipolar suggest that she was either "under-medicated" or had stopped taking her medication. The number of pills they found support that finding. So does her behavior. 

So many interesting things to note about this girl and her story. Like the hotels location and connections to Skid Row and the drug culture that heavily infiltrated the area. Elisa Lam was decreasing her mind altering drugs when she was in the midst of heavy mind altering drug using demographic. Having been manic, I might suggest that the same highs that others needed drugs for, Elisa Lam may have been able to achieve by avoiding her drugs. I wonder how her location and associations there effected her decisions in regards to taking her mind-altering medications. Personally, when I have felt there is a comparison of me to a Skid-Row kind of crowd, I find I want to distance myself from any association with the my "mental illness" and any mind altering drug use, even though they are prescribed by a doctor.  

Elisa Lam was only twenty-one and the documentary mentions that she had been acting a bit strange. Strange enough that it was making her roommates uncomfortable enough to have her moved to a different room. When we are in hypomanic ups sometimes it makes people uncomfortable. But there are also things that people love about it and in so doing they encourage it. Unfortunately, when authentic bipolar is the reason for it, those lovable attributes are too easily overlooked by the annoying and/or uncomfortable ones that people who live with you or who have closer associations are more inclined to notice. Those are the signs and symptoms that indicate you are becoming increasingly less stable and increasingly more vulnerable. Yet, just as it seems in Elisa Lam's case, people tend to ostracize and punish the vulnerable sick person more than they think to intervene and get them help. 

The video. 

There are so many comments and speculations about the video. It is commonly expressed that she was acting strange. But I don't see it that way. I see the creative playful or paranoid imagination seeping out of a person with bipolar. I speculate, in the video, she is in a more playful phase. Her body language, movements, etc. seem much more relaxed and playful then tense and scared. As we are watching the elevator video and listening to the speculating commentary on her hand movements and abnormal behavior, I see nothing particularly abnormal... But I also have bipolar, so what is not-so-abnormal to me can be seen as very abnormal to others and I will confess and explain, though I have behaved in similar ways and could see myself behaving very similar at age 21, I was not and am not all that likely to behave that way when I am appropriately medicated and stable. From what I see, though it is strange that the doors don't close Elisa Lam could easily be in a hypo-manic phase. It may have progressed to full-blown mania. Either way, I can easily see how she could end up in the water tank on top of the roof. 

Here is what my manic comprehending mind would suggest:

The elevator was not working. Elisa opted to take the stairs. At some point, either for the purpose of getting to a different level, or just for the sake of having an exploratory adventure (which she was obvious attracted to or she would not have been in LA in the first place) she decides to take the fire-escape route. Why not go all the way to the roof? So up she goes. One report says certain areas were locked, which would be all the more exciting to explore; the locks presenting a puzzle and/or a mystery begging to be solved.  Once on the roof, she sees the tanks and decides to check them out. One report says there was not a ladder, I do not know if that is accurate, but if there was not and I was in Elisa's some-level-of-manic shoes, I might wedge myself between two of the tanks and spider-crawl up to the top. Being in her shoes I might feel rather proud of my developing super powers and reveling in my height achieving victories might arouse my appetite for even more adventure. 

The heavy lid that one report says was not on the tank when the man found Elisa Lam's body, may have already been off when she got to the top. but it did not need to be. At that point, assuming she is in the magical-manic-wonderland, she would have had added strength and removing that lid would have presented another exciting challenge. Super strength proven once again, there are several plausible manic minded rationales as to how or why she ended up in the water tank. I suggest three. 

1.  Elisa decided it would be fun and exciting to go for a swim and she dove in without thought on how to get back out. No need to think about that, she had super-powers. She'd figure it out. Or she already did but since I don't know the layout of the tank I cannot offer explanations to that one. ...Except, that maybe she tied her clothes together and then tied them to something on the exterior and her make-ship rope failed to hold when she tried to exit. 

2. She was with someone else who dared or encouraged her to go in the tank and she did. It can be very easy to talk a manic or hypo-manic person into that. Then the other person could not help her out so they left dropped her clothes in and left. 

3. This next scenario I am suggesting only a true manic-mind can fully understand: There has been some fascination with how her death is similar to a movie plot, Dark Water, and while it is possible foul play could have been involved and someone else was behind a plot mimic, it is also very possible she had seen the movie and in her manic mind the movie became her story and she became the movie. In this scenario, her demise was imminent without someone there to intervene. 

4. It is possible she actually dropped something and tried to retrieve it. Once in, she removed her clothes to keep her from sinking. This is similar to the Dark Water plot mentioned in the previous, the difference being, it was truly unrelated. Or she saw something in the tank and dove in to find out what it was.

5. Depending on her level of psychosis there could have been some other form of a manic-manifestation that coaxed her into the tank.  

When manic or even just hypo-manic, a person's rational thinking abilities are compromised. The level of mania, the level of psychosis, the amount of time they have been struggling with the imbalance, the experience, exposure, training, etc a person has with recognizing and handling those symptoms and the phases they can come in all can effect their reasoning. A girl of 21 who has only recently been diagnosed is at high risk. Especially if she has little prior knowledge of the illness and aspects of her upbringing, culture, and exposure unknowingly feed mania. There are a lot of things in our culture that feed mania in dangerous ways. Take all this into account and a bipolar 21 year old could very easily decide to take that fatal plunge. 

Bipolar is a serious illness. It can be fatal. https://www.psychcongress.com/article/bipolar-disorder-deadly-disease-dangerous-comorbidities When I a read articles like this and find more information about physiological problems that have some "correlation" with bipolar I am not surprised by them. I feel so many of them. My heart has been my biggest concern lately and the endocrine system is clearly a mess. 

This is where I a think the criticizing article does not take it's criticism far enough. It states, "It's irresponsible and dishonest, indulging conspiracy theories that put already vulnerable victims at further risk." (cnet.com article link) But this article fails to mention the bipolar  and how people with it are extremely vulnerable, at high risk, and are often victims because of it. The documentary glossed over it. This article does not even mention it. This story could help bring awareness to this illness and the realities of it. It is very possible that the bipolar is exactly what killed Elisa Lam. 

But people don't want to talk about that. 

Prevention is worth a pound of cure, but prevention cannot happen without any discussion of it. 

the hauntings of dreams

 I am struggling today. 

Learned helplessness maybe?

I am tired of fighting but I cannot allow what has transpired to simply be ignored and I am so very angry by how numerous the recent injustices have been. ...actually not angry, just beat down. I am fighting depression from it. And I want to win, but I need a win.

I am so tired of fighting these battles just to stand up for myself and NOTHING happening except further harm to me.... 

So people think I should just give up and move past it. BUT THIS SHIT HAUNTS. 

AND I really cannot move past the realities of my "disabilities" 

And the shittiest part about that previous statement is just how much I have 

...and I am tired and worn of fighting the professor who chose to cause me as much harm as he possibly could just to discredit any complaint I might file... What is wrong with people? If I was in the wrong than you had nothing to worry about, so why keep trying to cause harm to me? and my family? You, I will not waste my time hating since you are nothing more than an unscrupulous worm who feasts on decay and feces. 

....

my heart will eventually fail me

 I know this much

and I am writing it out hoping to find strength but I am just not finding it. 

Only ANGER

which will have to be my strength right now. 

Maybe it is because I have been trying harder to accomplish my goals... but that I keep facing so much rejection for...

Maybe it is because my teeth hurt and that jackass, *ex-neuropsych,* is haunting my dreams now.

Why do you have to be a jackass? Why are you my enemy? Why do you hate me and wish so much harm to me? 

Why do you still haunt me???

But I know why. and I am so tired of it. It's also the reason I went back to school.... Which ended worse then I ever could have imagined - me being criminally charged for my son being concerned and scared... that I might break again. 

I hate you *JP. I hate you. 

I would so much rather be part of your team but you are a coward and maybe far worse... "I could lose my license because of you." I have lost too much of my life because of you, you freaking jackass. and would have lost it completely if it wasn't for the tenacity of my broken brain that knew it was broken and just kept fighting in spite of me...

fighting to find the answers and fighting to learn the truth. 

..."what we had was a beautiful thing..." what they hell are you saying and why?!

... please... stop haunting my brain. 

amends. stop never having anything to do with me outside of therapy... the solution is so simple... but you just keep proving to be a coward, bias, prejudice, malicious, and ignorant... or you were grooming, playing, manipulating. 

I wish you were not. and will you ever read this? No. "nothing to do with you outside of therapy." that you have honored quite well... just like every good groomer does when they are done with the run. done with their toy. 

stop. stop head to gun. please stop. 

I hate you. now please let me know that you hate me too. That is really all you have to do. Not your puppets or your pons, but you. 

Anomaly, that's me

 There is a lot in my head right now. So much that I might start crying with overwhelm... yep, here it comes. 

On Friday I had my 6 month monitor/follow up with my neurologist. She went over the MRI that was done the end of last year, one year after the others. This MRI was done to check pituitary and because she wanted one done at her facility that has a better machine and that has a neuro-radiologist (or something like that) to review the results. It's a good thing we did it there and I am learning, once again, just how accurate that whole "practice of medicine" cliche is. The pituitary tumor that was diagnosed by the previous two MRI's/radiologists is actually not a tumor at all, rather it is an enlarged pituitary. 

That makes the third misdiagnosis in 2 years. I suppose it is not surprising that it was an IHC facility that misdiagnosed yet again. At least this misdiagnosis was not a dangerous under-diagnosis ...yet I'd still be willing to forgive IHC and their providers if they would do anything at all to make amends for their mistakes, but my experience has only been that they would rather increase and perpetuate harm and then discriminate against me in everyway they can. -Have I mentioned that I applied for a job at the local hospital? It was a job working as a tutor/academic support person for sick, injured, hospitalized, etc., kids. It is a job that I am highly qualified for and they would be lucky to have me, but alas, not even an interview. They simply sent me a letter saying "thanks, but no-thanks we don't want you." It hurt. And broke my heart. Considering my qualifications and availability, I suspect it is my record with them and maybe how many times I mention them on this here blog that hurt my chances. I also was given the same sort of reply for even volunteering with the Primary Children's guy I met at the Brain Injury Alliance that was initially very excited about my offer. Both are IHC facilities, the very dominate medical provider here, and once again, it hurts my heart as my potential continues to be disregarded and wasted. 

Which brings me back to my appointment with my neurologist. "You are right, you are discriminated against... and you are not given the same opportunities," says Dr. Neurologist (I think I have referred to her as Dr. Sweetie before). She understands my hurt and frustration. She is sad and disappointed for me because she thinks I am doing "amazing." She is so impressed with how well I am doing considering my "conditions"that she reminds me includes two TBI's and the bipolar issues. -It is both funny and sad how the word bipolar is so rarely said and when it is, it is said with such extreme caution it's as if the word itself might catch fire and burn the person saying it at any moment. We are all very leery of using that word and it is the condition that I admit to very least because it seems to carry the most heavy prejudices and misconceptions... but I don't really know if that is accurate or if I, myself, am a bit prejudice since I really don't like the category people will lump me into and the very inaccurate and unfair assumptions they will make about me.- 

Now lets rewind a bit further: I had to share with Dr. Sweetie the story of the last few months because it has effected my brain functioning. I had only gotten to the part where the professor sent me his accusing text when she exclaimed, "That is the last thing you needed," and expressed concern because I was so "young" in my recoveries from both the TBI and the malpractice. 

"Oh, wait, it gets better," I tell her. 

She is not all that shocked because, as I led with, she knows the realities of the stigmas and discriminations her patients face, but she is sad concerned for me. 

She verifies and validates the PTSD response; she almost expected it. "Oh yes," she said, "considering what you have been through," referring to events associated with the Institute owned by my other lead in. She was also concerned, just as I and my son had been, that this trigger and the events that followed could have triggered worse and/or led to a complete collapse of my stability.

She asks some specific questions about how I am handling and functioning as her empathetic concern mixes with a sort of giddy-impressed-excitement and an extreme sense of pride. It is a pride that she insists I should have too. She is extremely proud of how I am and how I have been handling and functioning through all of this. "You recognize and you adapt," she praises. "It's a lot to keep straight and to manage." She repeats a few questions and exclamations. She is particularly proud of me for being able to manage the legal side of things. She is so glad and relieved that I my brain has not collapsed under the stress and pressure of it. She compares me to "all" of her other patients and once again I am an anomaly and an outlier. She wishes others were doing so well. I sense a bit of discouragement that they can't seem to accomplish and reach the levels I have especially considering the three strikes I have against me in addition the continuing series of unfortunate events. 

I am sure she was not meaning to put pressure on me but it is clear from our conversation that she really wishes I would have gotten into graduate school and she hopes I find some way to accomplish that. She feels eye-narrowing, teeth-gritting, face-flushing annoyance with the professors claim to the police officer that I was not likely to pass his class. She sees no reason for that and I pick up on her refrain from expressing the extent of her anger.

... Now I have a tendency to downplay and sometimes I am too self-deprecating in my attempts to appease others and accept responsibility for any mistakes I may have made. I did this to some degree with that bias professor. It is a mistake I need to stop making because people will, far too often, jump right on that, glad to use it against you and/or to use you as the scapegoat for ALL the mistakes made regardless of who actually made them. So I am trying to be better about focusing on my strengths and the praises I receive but I will admit it can make me feel a bit shy. So when I say her praises were high, know that they were HIGH. In fact so high, I felt a bit like a superhero... a confession that should scare anyone who follows this blog, but I will reassure you, it was not the manic superhero experience, this was the figurative, normal-person-pride kind of feeling. In mania, you don't just feel like a superhero, you pretty much are.  Anyway, I digress. I did feel proud and I was very glad to have my strengths and successes acknowledged. I also felt a bitter-sweet pride because I understand what Dr. Sweetie was saying about her other patients, what they experience, and their very common struggles. I teared up as she explained this, because I get it. I told her this and admitted that sometimes I want to give in to those struggles...and sometimes I do. Sometimes I have to. 

But... I have something in me, she says, and she is right. I tell her that I am an anomaly because I don't want to be... which, in-hind-sight, I realize does not sound the way I mean and I'll explain to you the same way I explained to Dr. Sweetie. When I say "I don't want to be an anomaly," what I mean is that I want to help others have similar success in handling, adjusting, coping, and healing. I want to help bring people with similar "disabilities"/"conditions" to my level (or higher) so that I am no longer an anomaly. I want to  help others be anomalies in positive ways too, and to the degree that my successes no longer make me such an anomaly.  

... and I could easily forgive IHC of all the wrongs they have done to me for this very reason. I would rather help others then fight them. I don't want to fight them at all...

and my head is so full of all these stupid problems to work out and work through that I want to give up on and I want to ignore but that I cannot because, alone as I am in this battle, I am not just fighting for me. 

Maybe I should change the name of this blog to "areyouananomaly2" so that manipulated police officers and other ignorant, arrogant, and bias people won't use the title of it against me.

regardless...

 High ho, high ho, its off to work I go 

and I live to fight another day as I fight to live a better day. 

This is the way. 

Good Day. 

A fighting chance.

 13 people have taken the time to read the entry I have recently shared... only 3 have taken the time to comment and show support... 

I got an email back in response to letting the grad school people know the charges that were filed against me had been dismissed. The charges that I had to disclose when I applied for grad because they were still "pending." Contact has already been made for interviews, the replier tell me. None have been extended to me for the PHD or the MEd...

so my heart is broken once again... and again... 

The numbers hurt and it cuts deep that I am, once again, not wanted where I know I belong and where know I could do the most good. It cuts deep even though I knew it was a long shot, even though I knew what I was up against, and even though I know I am in good company in my rejection. Albeit, good company I will never know the company of. 

So what do I do? After another crushing blow? 

Automatically my mind sees that image I keep thinking I have shaken completely but lights back up in an instant whenever I feel the crushing blow of rejection. The image that offers relief from the world that does not want me and does not value me.

Fortunately it is fainter this time and much easier to turn off or turn away. Level and appropriately treated, I can transform it into a redirection as I acknowledge and allow myself to feel the pain and the sorrow this rejection brings. 

It hurts. and it hurts deeply. 

But I also know that 13 people read what I shared about the most recent injustice that represents injustices too common in our systems and 3 took the time to comment. How grateful I am for the show of support from those 3. 

So I now try to focus and stay focused on the appreciation I received just this week from a friend in my own neighborhood who expressed to me how my openness and this blog have helped her in her life; a victory I am so glad she shared with me. 

"It is not a small victory," she tells me, "it is huge." And that is really what this is about. She tells me that her self esteem has increased and relationships improved because I dared to share the difficulties I have endured and the lessons I have learned from them. I have noticed some changes but had no idea just how much a part I had played...

... Which is precisely why it is so very heartbreaking that the people who could best help so many people who so desperately need a resource like me will not even give me a chance. 

"You will help so many people," once again fades indto "you might help one or two due to the limitations of your position and status." 

"people are afraid of me" still ringing rather true... 

Oh well. I it is sad and too bad, but at least I have helped one or two and I hope that much I may continue to do. To them and to those I have already helped I say thank you for keeping me going. I love you, I know the value of you, you are completely worth it and I am glad when you see that too :).  

To my neighbor and friend, thank you. And even though I cannot make the bigger difference I had hoped to I'll keep fighting and taking the punches to protect those in the shadows or who are down in the trenches alone. I'll keep fighting and keep speaking however and whenever I can. Please know I'll take any blow for you and for others until my body finally gives out.