Today marks 2 years since I was released from Cahill 3, the last time I was on a locked psych unit.

For years, I was constantly in and out of hospitals. Throughout that time I was put on various medications: prozac, geodon, seroquel, zyprexa, depakote, lithium, ativan, klonopin, celexa, zoloft, and too many others to list here.

At times, the medications seemed like it was helping, but what it was really dong was preventing me from getting better. It wasn't until I stopped taking the medications that I started truly improving. It wasn't until I stopped taking the medication that I was able to stay out of the hospital.

Mental problems need a mental solution. Mental "illness" is not like diabetes or cancer. The speculation that mental "diseases" are biologically based is just that — speculation. There is no evidence to back it up, but the idea is treated as gospel. It is more religion than science.

Without the medications obscuring my real issues or slowing my brain down to the point that thinking was a labourious activity, I was able to directly address my problems and I was able to make myself better. I've been out of the hospital for 2 years and I'm sure that if I had continued to take their drugs, I wouldn't be able to say that.

While not without it's tribulations, 2006 was a year of milestones and reunions for me. This was the first year in half a decade that I have spent completely out of psych hospitals. Although I took a couple of my old Ativans to get to sleep at a couple of points, I spent the year pretty much without any psych med prescriptions. I've become closer with certain members of my family than I have been in a long time. I've reconnected with friends long past. I've grown spiritually and even found God. It's been quite a year.

I felt well last night neither physically nor mentally. I took 2mg of my old Ativan prescription to put myself to sleep.

OH MY GOD! IT'S A PSYCH MED!!!

Yes, it's a psych med and yes I'm against psych meds. However, my issue with psych meds is living on them. I view living on any mind-altering drug as undesirable, whether that be Seroquel or heroin or alcohol. That does not mean occasional use of a mind altering drug such as Ativan is a bad thing.

Moderation is key. Have a drink on the weekend. Hell, get drunk some weekend. It's not the end of the world. Get drunk every day, that's a problem. When you live your life on alcohol or Zoloft or cocaine or Geodon, whether you are functional or not, you have lost touch with some portion of your core beginning. And when you are in touch with your core being, you can address the core issues that drove you take the drugs in the first place.

I had a terrible time getting off antipsychotics, the withdrawals were so nasty it would have been helpful to be in a rehab clinic for them except rehab clinics don't take patients addicted to antipsychotics.

Sedatives like Ativan or Klonopin can very tempting when experiencing antipsychotic withdrawals, and patients prescribed antipsychotics are often prescribed sedatives as well. However, I found that more often than not sedatives led to a state where I was so tired I was barely able to move but still could not sleep because of the withdrawals. This state was much worse than going through the withdrawals without the sedatives.

I've seen far too many people fall into this sedative trap while withdrawing from antipsychotics and what often ends up happening is they take more and more sedatives until they actually do fall asleep. But by that time they've taken a lot more sedatives than they should have and someone ends up finding them and calling an ambulance. In the emergency room labeled an "attempted suicide", given charcoal, and sent off to a psych hospital where they are readministered antipsychotics. While they attempt to explain to the staff that suicide was not the motivation in taking the sedatives, their explanations are inevitably dismissed. Sometimes they are actually manipulated into thinking they must have meant to kill themselves even though they don't remember wanting to.

My particular battle was with Geodon, but this scenario can play out with users of virtually any antipsychotic drugs including Abilify, Risperdal, Zyprexa, and Seroquel. Breaking antipsychotic addiction is not easy, but being armed with knowledge can help tremendously.

Now that I'm done dealing with things that need to be dealt with for the day, I'm going to enjoy the rest of the solstice. I'm going to take one of the Ativans I still have laying around from when I had a prescription and have a shot of Buttershots to get myself in a more relaxed state after being tensed up by the Verizon affair. Tonight, purpleglitter and I are going to have dinner with zarthon and celebrate the changing of the the sun.

Yesterday, I found out that I was mistaken about the accreditations of the person I am going to see in a couple weeks about going on psych meds. A couple months ago when we had discussed psych meds, my therapist had suggested a prescribing nurse. I assumed that was who I was going to see. However, talking to the psychopharmacology office yesterday I found out that I am actually seeing a psychiatrist. I was ready to give a nurse a try. I don't trust psychiatrists at all at this point. They are simply pillmongers.

I will try an antidepressant, and the ones I will consider are Lexapro, Effexor, and Celexa. I would also be willing to try a small amount of a benzodiazepine, such as Ativan or Klonopin, PRN for anxiety. However, pretty much everything else is off the table. I'm worried that I will simply be labeled non-compliant because I will not take whatever I am told to. I am highly dubious about this whole affair and if I feel any undo pressure from this psychiatrist to go on medications that I object to, I will simply walk out of her office and be done with her.

I got back from Cambridge Hospital about an hour ago. I was having one of the worst twitchy dizzy seizure spells I've had yet. I was very reluctant to call for help, because I was pretty certain I wouldn't be believed because of my psych history.

I did call, and a firetruck and ambulance came fairly quickly. They strapped me to a seat and carried me out of the house. They transfered me to a stretcher and loaded me onto the ambulance. merryperseis came with. I was quite out of it for the ride to the hospital.

When I arrived several nurses started asking questions about what was going on and taking down information. They seemed genuinely interested.

The first signs of trouble came when the physician assistant came in. She was rude, but still put on a facade of some form of interest. It was shallow, and they had obviously been into my records at that point.

Next the doctor on call came in. The entire examination consisted of one question: "Do you currently have a psychiatrist following you?". That was it. Period. Fucking asshole. After he left, the physician's assistant came back in and offered me ativan. I have ativan at home. Ativan is not what I need.

At this point, I'm no longer making any bones about the way I feel. I tell her that I'm done with dealing with these problems. She asks what I mean by that and I reply that I'm giving up because I can no longer live like this. She sees this as a healthy response from someone she views as a psych patient and decides to give me my discharge papers and tell me to leave. At this point I can still not reliably walk. She tells me the hospital will not give a taxi voucher and I don't want to call purpleglitter in the middle of the night because she's dealt with enough of my crap over the years.

I tell her that if have to walk or take the bus that I'll be back in less than 30 minutes. She replies to this with "don't threaten me.". Yeah, I can barely stand and I'm being threatening. Get a fucking grip. I'm just stating fact. If I had to walk or take the bus home, I'd end up on the ground and I'd end up being brought back by the ambulance that would be called on me by others.

They didn't want me in the bed any longer, so I sat on the chair as I waited for the hospital manager to appeal the taxi voucher decision. I stayed on the chair a good 15 minutes, but eventually fell off. I was probably lying on the floor of the emergency room for 15 or 20 minutes before a nurse that I had not seen before stopped and helped me back into the bed. I told her that they didn't want me in the bed, but she helped me onto it anyway.

The hospital manager stopped in finally and told me that the decision stands. Offered me a wheelchair trip to the door. I refused the chair and merryperseis called purpleglitter, who was actually up. Heading to the front entrance I ended up on the ground once again. I didn't stay down too long as the episode was at last significantly waning. We got in purpleglitter's dying car and finally went home.

A couple days ago, I was at Mass Convenience. Behind the counter I saw a display of flavoured cigars for 50¢ each. I purchased the last chocolate one they had and put it in my pocketbook. This morning I was feeling quite panicky and twitchy, so I lit it up outside Walgreens. I know tobacco is bad, but I've found that it calms me down better and quicker than ativan or klonopin ever did. I smoke only occasionally, in fact it's been about two months since I had my last puff. I don't want to and can't afford to become addicted, but sometimes tobacco is a useful substance to self-medicate with and other times it's just nice to have a relaxing smoke.

Maybe it is psych. Maybe I should just load up on addictive benzos and paxil. Maybe I should go back on 240mg of geodon a day. If geodon doesn't cut it, maybe I can go back on the 600mg of seroquel like I was three or four years ago. It makes everything slow and squishy. While I might not be "cured", at least I won't be able to think about not being cured. In fact, I wouldn't have to think at all, just the fog roll in. Alternatively, I could just go down to Park Street and jump in front of a train. Essentially the same effect.

I missed my appointment with my primary care doctor again yesterday. It's rescheduled for August 9th. I really need to see her soon. I think my nervousness about seeing her and about all the financial issues that surround it with Mount Auburn factor highly into my inability to make my appointments. I absolutely need to make sure that I make it in next time. But sometimes that isn't enough.

I did make it to my therapy appointment. I hadn't seen my therapist in three weeks. I was feeling completely out of it. I wasn't really able to keep eye contact while I was talking. Staring at the wall and floor, but never really looking at her. That is actually a problem I have had in the past, but really hasn't surfaced recently. She was not familiar with me acting that way, and was therefore a little concerned.

She told me not to do heroin, which wasn't surprising. I told her how blissful heroin is. How it makes all the pain go away, physical and mental. How it is pure and wonderful. But, that so far all I've had are ideations about doing it. I haven't really had much in the way of motivation. Still, she warned me that recovery from heroin is hard. She said that she'd met several people on methadone, and life was no longer blissful for them. I told her that part of the idea was that I wouldn't recover. I see it as a sort of quazisuicidal act. She asked me to tell her when I've given up and it's all over, which I guess is fair.

She wants me to go back on medication. At least antidepressants. I personally think that my depression in large part is caused by my anxiety, which would make something for anxiety more helpful. Of course she was not going to recommend benzos after the big heroin discussion. However, she is not the person who would be prescribing the medication. I will have a (hopefully new) pdoc to do that. I just need to keep the heroin discussion away from them. Benzos are tricky to get, regardless. Psychiatrists are reluctant to give them out if you ask for them, but will give you insane amounts if you don't.

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It's early. I'm going to head over to my house and try to get some cleaning in before the day heats up too much.

I have been posting simi-regularly again, but I haven't been posting much about what's been going on in my life. So here goes.

I still get twitchy and panicky sometimes, but not near as often as I did last year, which is not near as often as the year before that. So I'm continuing on the path of improvement. I'm still going to therapy, but I'm not sure the aim of it at this point. It's nice to talk about what's going on in my life to an quasi-objective outsider, but there seems to be no direction. A good part of the reason there is no direction is me. I'm not entirely sure where I want to take my life at this point.

I am near or at the point where I could conceivablely work a job again. A steady job would help me incredibly financially. The disability checks are just barely enough to get by on, and leave scant left over for much else. A job would also help me structure my day, my days now drift by in a random fashion with little rhyme or reason.

However, I am extremely discouraged about my chances of actually getting a job, and if I do get one, my chances of keeping it. The job market sucks right now, which is very discouraging, as is the fact that I'd be applying with marks against me. Being a out transsexual carries a lot of discrimination, which I experienced to a very high degree when I was in the job market before. I had a very difficult time finding a jobs, and when I eventually did find jobs they usually paid far less than I should have been making for the work I was doing. Far less than most non-trans folk in a similar profession and at a similar skill level would accept. I fear that the coupling of the discrimination with the fact that I've been out of work for almost 5 years will be a death sentence for my job hunt. The gap in my job history gives employers an easy and valid excuse not to hire me if they are at all uncomfortable with my gender identity.

And after I've gotten a job, it is possible that some symptoms may become problematic again. If I am unable to keep the job, I'll be in a far worse position than if I never tried. By getting a job and failing I will be left with no job and no disability or medical coverage. I could quickly end up on the street, a possibility that seems far to real to me seeing I've been there before.

As an effect of how I view the chips being stacked heavily against me in the job market, I am very dubious about even trying. And the discouragement and resentment I feel from the situation leads me to seek out other reasons the job market isn't where I want to go. Do I really want to end up working at a job whose sole purpose is to make some fat cat a little richer? To line someone random person's pockets? Do I want to go back to facing the annoying issues that generally come up in a work environment strewn with a ton of assholes. I've virtually locked most bigots and right-wing nuts out of my life, do I really want to go back to interacting with them? All in all how can I view it as worth it to fight very hard for something that is going to suck anyway? Money isn't enough of a motivation. Survival would be, but through disability my survival isn't nearly as impaired as it would be with a failed job experiment.

If I'm not going to get a job, I must figure out what I want to do with my life. I want to accomplish something, I just have to accept that it won't be in the traditional definitions of success. Being successful could be simply improving the lives of those around me, which I do to a degree, but I could be doing more. It could also mean participating in political actions, to improve the world in general. Creative work that inspires and touches others is also a valid form of success. Doing volunteer work that helps the local community would also be valid. One thing prevents me from achieving any of these successes in large quantity is something that I can work on: day structure. I need to plan out my day and add regularity to important routines. This is within my reach, I am in a position to move. I have given myself time to orient myself to my new world since I have gotten off my psych meds, and now that I am more familiar with the new landscape it is time to make my move. I need help to do this. I still have the tendency to drift, and I'll need those around me to help me focus. To occasionally ask me "what have you accomplished today"? Help me keep my eye on the prize. With the support of my friends and some difficult changes on my part, I could become a better, more successful person.

'Tis the set of sails and not the gales Which tells us the way to go.      -- Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I need to set my sails.

geodon and ativan have started kicking in
feel a lot better
i think i'm going to feed the kitties and try to get some sleep

2004 has been a pretty good year for me. I only had one hospitalization this year, compared with 5 last year and the year before. I only cut once this year, and I stopped my bulimia. I'm stable on my meds (except when I forget to take them) and thinking about getting a job. Getting a job seemed a distant prospect at the beginning of the year, now it is a realistic goal. I feel like I've come out from under a rock. I'm a whole new person. I'm healing. Hopefully 2005 will be just as good.

My assignment for this week from my therapist was to sign up for the Safety and Self Care group on Monday nights. It's basically a group to help me with eating right, minimizing drug use, taking my meds, showering, paying bills, cleaning house, cutting, and suicidality. All that good functional life stuff. Not all of those things are things I'm having problems with, but I'm having problems with enough of them that she believes I should join this group.

I've decided to give up my drug-free experiment. Yes, I failed. Yes, I'm weak. Yes, I probably need help. But right now I'm about to smoke a bowl. Fuck it. I'll feel better. I'm comfortable with being a failure. That's all I'll probably be anywhere. Oohh... some great accomplishment not smoking pot would have been. I could have gone right from there to getting a job. I maybe could have got everything in order. My life would have been perfect. But I must smoke pot. The horror. The shame. Fuck it all. I don't care anymore. I want to feel high. I want to feel good. Even if it is artificial. Hell, everything I feel is artificial anyway. I'm on so many psych meds that the real me has been gone from the scene for a long time. Maybe the fake me is better. I don't care. I don't care what I am. I don't care if I'm some fucked up druggie. I don't care.

This is my last stoned post for a while. December is my drug-free experiment. I plan to abstain from the use of all non-prescription psychoactive drugs with the exception of caffeine for one month. I'm going to see how I feel at the end of the month. I need to know how I feel with a somewhat clean system. I say "somewhat clean" because I'll still be taking my prescription psychoactive drugs. I know I need them to function, which means I can't clean my system completely. But that's okay. The experiment will proceed nonetheless.

My pot smoking has changed drastically over the past few weeks. I'm smoking less pot each time I smoke, but smoking more often. I've been smoking when I don't feel my meds are doing enough. Pot calms me down quicker than Ativan or Klonopin, and unlike Ativan and Klonopin it is not addictive. I haven't been getting stoned, just slightly buzzed. While before if I smoked I wanted to get very baked, now I just want to stop my brain from exploding. One or two hits usually suffices. This is not to say that I plan on never getting very stoned, it's just not something I've been doing recently.

again, i have found myself unable to write
again, i will break the spell with a stream of consciousness post
so if you dislike stream of consciousness posts you can quit now

i got back from missouri on sunday
i had a wonderful trip
saw family and friends i haven't seen in a long time
and got to meet my nephew jonas
he's so happy and loves to bounce
spending time with him convinced me that when i'm better i want to try to adopt a kid
i'm very happy for my brother and heather


photo by myenergy

i've noticed i've been taking more ativans lately
i don't like this
it's a very addictive drug
but my general mental state has been on a slight downward slope
my therapist is talking about my "thought disorder" again
she asked me if i got stuck in loops sometimes
and i do
she said that was a thought disorder symptom
scary, but could explain a lot of things
i want to do more research about this
and find out what can be done
i'm not entirely thrilled about my therapist's suggestion
she wants me to make an earlier appointment with my pdoc
and see if i can get her to up my geodon
i don't want more geodon
but if it will help i can accept that
the painful looping has gotten pretty bad lately
and if more geodon will make it go away then i'll take more
but i'm already on so much
how much more can i take?

on a brighter note,
purpleglitter and i went to mount auburn cemetery today
the fall colours were spectacular
we arrived late, so only got to stay a short while
(they close at 5)
but we had a great time and took many piccies
following is one i took



i'm starting to feel a bit twitchy right now
a sense of panic is building
i don't like it
ah, it's passing
sometimes it takes hours to pass
sometimes i just take benzos until i go to sleep
but this time it passed quickly
and i'm happy about that

i'm not used to staying up this late
i have been going to bed quite early lately
and i have to be up early tomorrow
so i should be getting to bed
so good night
and hopefully i'll be able to get myself back on a regular posting schedule

I'm having a good time in Missouri. Got to play with my baby nephew Jonas. He's such a doll. He loves to play with toys that spin. He spent the night here at my parents house last night. I hope to see more of him while I'm here.

I also saw met my brother's girlfriend. She's really cool. I'm happy he's found such a good person.

Though I've had a good time there have been issues. I've been more panic attacks than normal, and therefore have been taking more ativan than normal. I also lost my purse on the trip here with $140 in it. That really sucked. Next time I travel I'm getting traveler's checks.