Set the recored straight

Sometimes I get brave and share this blog with people. Occasionally I even share it on social media. Overall, just like in realtime life, I am overlooked and/or ignored. Which does hurt a little. When I reflect on why that is, I do understand many reasons why. I have done it and been that person myself and it really is not great for people to dwell too much on the topics I bring up. So I get it. But there is one concern I have that I would like to set the record straight on. It is one of the main reasons I speak and why I wish people would not ignore me. It's the subject of suicide. 

I am very qualified to talk about that, and I understand it from many perspectives. Remember, I have a brother who died this way. But I also know the stereotype that may be why people ignore me and that is the record I would like to set straight. 

It is true that there are people in this world who threaten and even make half assed attempts at suicide for attention. For some it may be a legitimate cry for help but for others it really is a form of manipulation. I dare say those of the latter are not nearly as common as people might believe. Kind of like sue happy people who are looking to cash in on medical malpractice. The vast majority of us do not fit those molds and yet within the worlds that these two atypical stereotypes exist the concepts seem to be regarded as the norm rather than the exceptions that they are. This practice is very dangerous for those majorities that don't fit into those overly exaggerated "stereotypes." 

Anyway, my point here and now, is that I have never attempted suicide. I will admit that once, when I was 19, I took a few more of my Paxils (medication) than I should have and maybe had a slight hope that I would not wake up from it, but mostly I just wanted to feel it. I wanted to quiet what was going on inside of me and I wanted to really feel what this drug was doing. I don't really count it as an attempt. Especially since I called poison control (or something like that) almost immediately after when I realized that was a stupid thing to do. I called from a payphone so they could not track me. Basically if it was not too big of a deal, I did not want this impulsive mishap to be brought to the attention of any person I knew. 

Since then I have never done anything that can even be considered an attempt. And I want this to be clear because of how difficult it can be to handle suicidal thoughts and impulses when your chemistry is out of whack. People really have no idea how easy it would be to commit suicide just to quiet what is going on in your broken brain and even to appease what society and people I knew, loved and trusted seemed to want me to be. Suicidal impulses to often are glutinously fed by the way you are so often treated for even discussing them. 

I still feel some fear that the more impulsive suicidal symptoms might someday overcome my rational brain. So I listen to that fear but don't let it dictate. I pay attention to the suicidal thoughts, feelings, impulsive and voices and I treat them as the symptoms they are. 

I do not and have not attempted. 

And I assure you, if I had, or if I do, that is one thing I would be successful at. This is something that people who have never experienced true out of balance chemistry really don't understand. This is why I talk about it and hope that others will share and talk about too. 

Because for those who are truly at risk, you likely have no idea, until it is too late. 

If people dare talk about it, Please listen. And if someone is struggling with a mental illness, please don't ignore. Treat them with compassion, dignity and respect. Help them recognize and get the help they need. Stand up for them when they need it and be willing to intervene when they are falling prey/victim to negative perceptions, stereo-types and mistreatment. They are so much more vulnerable than you know. 

Only time will tell

 Sometimes very small things can be quite surprising. 

I am writing. Working on "the book" that I keep promising random strangers and many people I know that I will write for them.  The story of how my therapist broke me ...and how I may have broken him. A story of forbidden love ...or was it grooming? Regardless, when coupled with an actual, misdiagnosed brain injury, it nearly cost my life. 

Obviously I will need to change names. From this blog you will see that I clearly have trouble committing to substitute names and sometimes I have felt it is too overwhelming a burden to come up with appropriate and fitting replacement names. Especially for Dr. He, JP, Perri Cheri, the master marionette that broke me. I am not feeling that so much anymore. So today as I am reading and revising some of what I have already written I am changing his actual name to what I have decided is an acceptable replacement name. 

And it is rather surprising how satisfying it feels to erase his actual name and put in its place a replacement name. It takes the edge off and redirects my attached emotions that still want me to believe in the illusion created. As I write about it now he is becoming a story and the fictitious person he really was. A fictional character that I am not actually attached to. 

This is a happy and liberating moment for me and I am savoring it. Which is also why I came on here to share. 

Rewriting the story is now taking the edge off. Maybe that is when you are finally ready to take on a previously insurmountable task undertaking. Maybe this how you know it is safe for you to proceed and it is time. 

Time to tell your story. 

and 

Time to write the book. 

Tiny Victories will eventually add up if you keep on fighting, trying, working, practicing. 

and Living. 

Life's Lots

 A cousin who, to me, is absolutely amazing, recently vented on Instagram that she is tired of hearing people complain about their lot in life. Very few people can get away with saying something like this, however she can because she has had to rise above, again and again, very devastating, heartbreaking and unbelievably unfair circumstances. But still I was hesitant to offer a "like" to her post because I think it highly likely I can be perceived as one of those whom she is complaining about... 

Silly, really, why that would keep me from encouraging a post like this, but I guess that is precisely where my conflict lies: Do I want to encourage a post like this? Coming from this particular person it is more meaningful and not condemning and I know that, but do others? My main concern is that there are people whose lot in life needs to be talked about and brought to light in order to change some very bad policies, practices, and societal norms that are creating bad lots for other people too. 

I have been reflecting on my lot in life and my complaints about it and this is the conclusion I have come to: I am not all that bothered by my lot in life. Would I rather have a different lot? If I could hand pick my lot in life, you bet I would choose something different. However, that does not mean I feel sorry for myself for my lot in life. On the contrary I think my lot in life has been pretty incredible in so many ways and I feel very fortunate that I have my particular lot. What I am most "dissatisfied" with or maybe, rather, what really bothers me most about my lot in life is how other people treat and even perceive me because of it, as is so plainly evidenced by so many aspects of my recent circumstances. 

This harsh reality of my misfit and even misunderstood status to people who do not know me was countered the other day when I was hanging out with my 17 year old daughter. She was sharing with me a game she likes to play on her phone that is all about making outfits for beautiful anime style characters.  As she was looking through some of the designs she shared with me one that she said reminds her of me. She pointed out the features and explained why they reminded her of me. Here she is:

It is very meaningful to me that my daughter, somebody who lives with me everyday and has seen me at my best, my worst and everything in between, and somebody that knows me better than anyone else, perceives me to be angelic, beautiful, and so many others things that this picture embodies. 

And that is what really mattes. As long as my kids see me as something beautiful and, as my son demonstrated, someone worth standing up for, than I know I am still okay. It is nice to know that those who actually know me, know that I am not what our cultural and societal biases want to make me out to be. I hope that others may someday see and understand that better and not condemn and discriminate against people so easily for the unfortunate and/or unchosen aspects of their lot in life.

No Complaint

 Decision. 

It has been so hard for me to do. 

"That is why I have not encouraged you one way or another," says Dr. She. Because she knows, as history has shown, that it is not likely to go anywhere that will benefit me in any way. She is also a bit concerned that this reality would be another hit to my self worth, esteem, and faith in humanity. 

Faith in humanity -I'll be tangential for a moment- is not something I currently have. Faith in God and higher powers is where I am choosing to put my trust, because humans, I have learned, cannot be trusted and all with turn depending on the circumstances, some more easily than others. So that does not seem to matter, the faith in humanity component, except that for some strange Taoist reason it still does. 

So what is the "it" I speak of?

The complaints I feel need to be filed against the Intermountain Neuroscience Institute, the mysterious "director" who shall not be named (they would not name him/her to me, which is rather suspicious when you consider that he/she was the supposed judge of the "investigation" they had me do through their "patient experiences team" ), the office director Melissa Minton, my multiple times misdiagnosing and then negligent ex-medical doctor Dr. Cara Camiolo Reddy, my misdiagnosing and possibly grooming ex-neuropsychologist Dr. Jon Pertab, the deceptive and dishonest patient advocate Jodi Allen, and the rest of the obviously gossipy staff there. Complaints that should be filed with licensing boards, legal authorities, etc. 

I feel as though this is coming out in a rather kersplat-splat form, so please bear with me... Maybe I will simply list the points I'd like to make here; the confession I am confessing (in no particular order, or maybe precisely in order, I don't quite know as kersplat-splat I go):

• I am naming names on this blog entry, my freedom of speech needing to be honored and protected in order to hold accountable, in someway, those who caused harm to me and are very likely to have caused and are currently causing harm to others as well. A person is rarely the only one in such situations and considering how it was handled, it is very obvious I am not the only one being harmed by IHC and/or the Intermountain Neuroscience Institutes policies, practices and providers. I have vacillated on naming names and currently names have been replaced throughout my blog, to protect myself, but on this entry they stay. 
• They stay, because I will not be reporting to all of those places. I know I have said I will and it should all be reported, but I have tested those waters by reporting the attorney that misrepresented himself as a malpractice attorney and for $1500 wrote a response to the letter from the bullying lawyer who claimed to be representing Jon Pertab, Jodi Allen and the Intermountain Neuroscience Institute, and then acted for months as if he were collecting records and gathering reports from expert witnesses. With the exception of the initial contract and the letter that simply stated we will not cease and desist and that he was investigating, nothing ever materialized. When it became obvious he was not ever going to follow through with anything he said he was going to do we fired him. Neither records nor refund have ever materialized even though we requested both several times. So, I decided to test the waters on this lesser but clear, obvious and straightforward offense. Nothing. Why bother reporting if nothing comes of it? 
• That just causes more harm to me. 
• And it also has the potential to feed the beastly IHC practices of dishonesty and deception. If they can get away with it, they will continue. 
• Even if they were "honest mistakes" (which many clearly were not) they will feel as if they are the victim and further stigmatize and distrust their patients who are not what they mistakenly and egregiously think they are. In other words, they will feel/believe the Magnificent Masterminds of the Medical Malpractice Model, their unnecessary attorneys, and continue in those thinking and perception errors that cause so much harm to their patients. 
• In regards to the possibly not-so-honest mistakes, for example, if Jon Pertab really is a mischievous manipulative mastermind who grooms patients for his own pleasures, then his ego, sense of power and confidence in what he can get away with may be stroked to the next level by knowing just how easily he can and does get away with it. His power over his clients and sense of superiority greatly increased as my value and worth, power and voice is repeatedly invalidated, ignored, and decreased.  Yang devouring Yin as it so often does in this world of masculine favoring disproportions. 
• I know it is ridiculous and completely unrealistic but I still would rather work things out with that Institution and those named above than be their enemy. I would happily revise this, I would happily revise my google reviews, I would love for them to be what I originally believed them to be, and I would rather help them to become it. I want them to help people in ways they have potential to, so I suppose I also don't report because I still have a shred of hope for that. I hope they are honest but misguided. I hope they can be better than they have been. I hope they will choose to correct their mistakes instead of digging their heels in and perpetuating harm... as I right it I know how unrealistic that is, they have proven so solidly that they really just don't care.... but I would rather cling to a thread of hope then have that thread severed by the last possible level of "accountability" also disregarding the problems that cost me too much and nearly my life. 

So, my confession? I will not be reporting. It seems rather pointless to put my energies there and to hope that any good will come of it. Instead I have done what I can by publishing reviews on google and writing on this here blog. That is more likely to help other patients and potential patients than going through their motions and trying to report to the other powers and egos that they pay licensing fees to. 

IHC sadly solidly maintains their position of "absolute power corrupts absolutely," and a person as small as me holds no sway. It is sad and heartbreaking the lack of honesty and accountability by so many involved, and I hope they are better than they have proven to be with me, but it is time for me to move past this idea of reporting so my mind can be free to work on the things that I can do that actually might go somewhere and benefit others. 

...And this idea makes me feel happy and lighter.  

So no complaint, but rather I will rely on my constitutional right to Freedom of Speech. 

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.