By now, most have heard about the video of U.S. marine throwing puppy off a cliff in Iraq. This sort of behaviour isn't new to war. There was a Vietnam veteran in Cahill 3 with me. He told me a story that seems now eerily similar to this.

The guys in his unit called the orangutans "rock apes", because they would catch rocks you threw at them and then throw the rocks back. They had fun playing catch with the orangutans until one day one of the guys in the unit decided to pull a pin out of a grenade and throw it at an orangutan . Of course the orangutan caught the grenade and was blown to pieces. That ended the fun they had with the orangutans. The difference is that they didn't have camera phones then.

Should we be surprised by this sort of behaviour? These soldiers have been sent to kill people. Most humans view other animals as less than human. If they're killing people left and right, what's the odd puppy or orangutan ? Who is more evil then: the marine that killed the puppy or the politicians sent him over there to kill?

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.

I met with the psychiatrist from cambridge hospital today. It was nice to have a even-keeled dialog with a psychiatrist. I wasn't a patient, i was just discussing the system. And it felt like he was actually listening. Not just about transgendered topics and my experiences on Cahill 3, but to a wide variety of my criticisms of the psych system. I know that I've been fairly anti-psychiatry in my writings, and I haven't changed my views. I still oppose psychiatry as it is generally practiced today, however I have always thought that psychiatry could be a good thing. This sort of open dialog between consumers and providers is exactly what is needed to make psychiatry a better thing. More of it needs to happen. However, the biggest problem is that open dialog can only happen in a non-coercive environment — and when dealing with the mental health system, those environments are exceedingly rare. I'm lucky enough to have had the opportunity.

I've been invited to talk to a psychiatrist at Cambridge Hospital regarding appropriate treatment of transgendered persons in inpatient units. I hope that I responded to the message in time, they called me last week but my cell phone does an extremely poor job at telling me I have voice mail (remember that if you leave me voice mail and I don't respond). They suggested that after my experiences in 2005, I'd surely have some input, and I definitely do. I will say this though, even with all the problems I had and witnessed on Cahill 3 a couple years ago, I'd still rate the Cambridge Hospital impatient units as the best of the many that I've locked up in. I hope I can be of assistance in making improvements.

My therapist asked to see my LiveJournal today. There was a computer in the room, so I showed it to her. This took place near the end of our session, so she only got to look at it briefly. Nonetheless she found it helpful to understanding what's going on with me, and wants to look at it again in the future. She said that she'd only be looking at it with me, and never when I wasn't there.

I know many of you are probably thinking something along the lines of "WTF? You're batshit crazy showing your therapist your LiveJournal!". Well, I am batshit crazy, but showing my LiveJournal to my therapist wasn't.

First: While I distrust the mental health system as a whole, I do trust my therapist.

Second: I live in a free state. Even if I am mistaken in trusting my therapist the worst she can do to me based on my journal is have me locked up for a couple weeks. I can do that time standing on my head.

Third, my journal isn't really that much of a secret. It is the second hit when you google up Cahill 3 and the first hit when you google up Cahill 4, which are psych wards in the same health alliance that my therapist is part of. If she wanted to find my journal on her own, it would not have been difficult.

I brought in printouts of journal entries to past therapists, but I've never let any look directly at it. Now we'll see how well this experiment works.

I did this piece in the asylum a number of years ago, though I'm not sure exactly how many. It was done at Holy Family or on Cahill 3 or 4 or perhaps at Anna Jaques — I just don't remember. It's been quite a while and so much was going on then that the where and when has been lost in the clutter of my mind.

It was supposed to be a self portrait, but in my opinion it did not turn out looking recognizably like me.


Without Mask — oil pastels

While, I already didn't want to end up back on the psych ward at Cambridge Hospital, I'm am even more afraid to now. My journal is the first thing that shows up when you look up "Cahill 3" "Cambridge Hospital" on Google. I'm sure someone on the staff at Cahill 3 has done such a search by now, and they may not be too happy if I were to return. This of course makes me feel the need to be less honest with my therapist in the future, because while she hasn't been trigger-happy with hospitalizations in the past, Cambridge Hospital would be where I'd most probably end up inpatient if she decided I to send me in, as she is part of the Cambridge Health Alliance.

I went back to therapy yesterday evening. It's not my therapist in particular I have a problem with, it's the system as a whole. I think some therapy may be helpful for me at this point, but I am still a bit dubious as to whether I've made the right decision. What really tipped the scale is now that I'm actually getting seriously looked at for my physical issues, I can to some degree afford to talk with a therapist at the very least.

My therapist said that she would help me get the most troublesome and error-ridden parts of my psych record removed. While waiting to sign in, I had noticed in the privacy statement of the Cambridge Health Alliance that I had the right to request any part of my medical record be removed. They then can decide if such removal is appropriate, but if they decide it is not I have the right to appeal to a third party for arbitration. Hopefully it won't go that far, but I'm really looking forward to get the opinions of idiots like Fatima off my record. Hopefully that ball will be fully rolling soon.

We also discussed psych meds. I'm very very dubious about psych meds, but am willing to try another SSRI. I don't trust SSRIs entirely, but IMHO they are the most innocuous of the psych med arsenal. I would also consider something for my anxiety, but the only real options are benzodiaphines and Paxil. I will not go on Paxil, I've known to many people who've gone through the completely horrid withdrawals from it. Sweating, shaking, bugs crawling on the skin kind of withdrawals. None for me thanks. The doctors at Cahill 3 did not want to give me a prescription for benzos because I have a "drug habit". They didn't want to give me a SSRI either, though. They had labeled me as psychotic because I was defiant and caused them hassle. While they gave me Klonopin inpatient and tried to give me Thorazine, they wanted to give me a script for Thorazine. I told them that I'd take meds only if they were prescribed by a neurologist. After much fighting, towards the end of my stay they had the neurologist on call for the unit come up and look at me. They ran a couple test that it took me weeks to get ahold of the results of, and gave me a very small dose of Lamictal. I assumed the Lamictal was related to any potential neurological issues, but I found out at my neurologist's office that on my exit sheets they wrote that the lamictal was for "mood stabilization". He explained that they would give Lamictal to someone who had suspected seizure activity and also needed a mood stabilizer, but the whole thing still seems a bit sketchy to me.

I need to make a couple phone calls today to finalize the dates for my ambulatory EEG as well as set up an appointment with my new prescribing psych nurse. I had good luck with a nurse practitioner instead of a doctor for primary care, maybe a prescribing psych nurse will likewise be better than a psychiatrist.

Another note of interest is that my therapist has not been putting me down as having either DID or PTSD simply as having severe depression. She said that she believes me about such things, but I have not presented as DID in our sessions. That is because over the past year or so I've been fronting the majority of the time and most of the others that occasionally front nowadays are not noticeably different to outsiders. Sure, when someone like Cyndi or Sally front everyone notices. But Cyndi only comes out now on thankfully rare occasions and I haven't seen Sally in quite some time. This seems to be a quiet spell. I'm not sure why and these things are not something I control and even if I could I would not upset what little balance there is now to treat a therapist to a "demonstration".

I will be heading back to therapy next week, because even if I occasionally have issues with her, I've had less with her than any other therapist. I may not agree with her all the time, but she has earned a trust with me. If she doesn't understand something, instead of dismissing it, she researches it. I also do find it helpful to a degree to be able to just let things out in a very free form. She agrees that I was being treated badly at the hospital and that the label of psychotic was applied to me simply to discredit and control me, she is against force psychiatry and has shown that through her actions, she repeatedly states that she believes me, and she agrees that psych meds are overprescribed. Even if she does think that some psych meds would be helpful for me, she respects my decision on what meds I will not take and states that she does not think that I need antipsychotic. I think it would be a mistake to lose her as a therapist, because I am not likely to replace her with anyone quiet so open minded.

i see my endocrinologist yesterday. since she is in the same hospital system, she looked up my eeg results for me. they came back normal. i'm not very hopeful about my upcoming neurology appointment tomorrow. even though it often takes a series of eegs to find seizure activity, with the problems i already have had with people dismissing me because of my psych record i'm almost convinced that it will inevitably happen again tomorrow. i don't even feel like going at this point. i'm processing so many things right now to deal with another asshole in the medical system. however, if i don't go i might not have another shot for a long time.

my endocrinologist stated that she was hesitant to give me my scripts if i wasn't seeing a therapist and told me she was concerned that i didn't want to take the psych meds the doctors on the psych ward wanted to give me. i reminded her that she had given me scripts before when i was without therapy and she did end up writing them.

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i had canceled my thanksgiving trip to missouri as i did not think with my current problems that i should be flying. not because i think the traveling itself would be unsafe; but because with me twitching, falling to the ground, and becoming unresponsive i might attract a large degree of unwanted attention from airport security. couple that with being a left-wing radical tranny and i'd in for a bad time.

i am not going to attempt to go to my grandmother's funeral in chicago. even if i wasn't concerned about security, i neither have the means or a stable enough mental state to make the trip.

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my therapist called this morning asking if my decision to quit therapy was firm. i wasn't feeling particularly together when she called and couldn't really give a definitive answer to her. she is going to call me monday to check in on me and find out if i've changed my mind. i'm torn, because while therapy might be a good thing right now, being involved with the psych system is negatively impacting my medical care. i'm not quite sure what path to take on anything right now. everything seems to be stirred up, inside and out. i need to get away from everything.

My therapist called me yesterday. She asked me if I was on any medications and if I had any follow-up appointments. I told her that I see a neurologist on the 23^rd or 24^th. She then asked as if shocked, "Why would you be seeing a neurologist?"! Um, my desire to see a neurologist has been a major topic in therapy for some time now. She's either not paying attention or not taking my medical issues seriously. I believe it is more likely the latter and she falls into the "All your problems are psychological" camp. I have an appointment to see her Monday at 5:15, but I'm not that enthusiastic about doing it. I know I probably should have some sort of therapy, but I'm not sure I trust anyone in the psych system at this point.

When I arrived home from the asylum, I found a letter stating that I had yet another overdraft charge. I seem to be utterly incapable of keeping track of my balance and the $25 fees add up. I decided that I should just cash my SSDI check instead of depositing it and handle things in cash. I headed out to Arlington center, and only fell once on my way there and was able to get up quickly. I did end up sitting on a bench for 15 minutes shortly thereafter waiting to regain my coordination.

My first stop was Leader Bank. There I was told that since they are not publicly traded they are exempt from being required to cash treasury department checks for non-customers. No luck. I went on to Bank of America. There I was told as a non-customer I had to have two forms of identification for them to cash the check. I only had my licence with me. Strike two.

I decided to try my luck at Cambridge Savings Bank. I knew my account was negative there, but I hoped they would cash my with just one form of identification anyway. The teller told me the system wouldn't let her do it because my account was overdrawn. I asked by how much, and it was only $3.76. Aparently I had a little over $20 in the account when the overdraft fee hit. Seeing as the amount was so small, I told her to take the $3.76 out of the check, cash my check as a customer with one form of identification, then close my account. She did, and I'm now done with banks (except what will be my monthly trip to cash my check).

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purpleglitter drove me to my therapy appointment at 5:15. I signed in at the front desk and waited. 5:30, no therapist. The receptionist paged her. 5:45, no therapist. The receptionist paged her again, then noted that my appointment time was actually at 6:00 and not my normal time, and that's probably why my therapist wasn't responding. I had things to do, so I just left.

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purpleglitter dropped me off at the corner and went up to her house to bake merryperseis's birthday cake. I fell heading from the corner to my house, spilling my Monster. Several people asked if I was okay, but no one called anyone on me. I got back in the house and ended up lying in bed for some stupid reason and fell asleep. I drifted in and out of sleep and seizure for a couple hours, having nasty dreams that everything was getting worse and that I was being locked away forever. Finally, merryperseis came into my room and helped me out of bed. I ended up falling on the floor in the hall and sat there until I felt balanced enough to go down the stairs.

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recoiling, purpleglitter, and iamacliche were downstairs and we had quite a wonderful time celebrating the anniversary of merryperseis's birth. Towards 1:00 I started feeling very twitchy again, and couldn't really get up from the couch. All the non-residents of the house_of_clocks had left, and merryperseis had to go to purpleglitter's apartment and pick up my meds, my Metamucil cookies, and mazzycat's tuna for me. I was planning on just crashing on the couch, but did eventually make it up to my room and to sleep.

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Everyday is an adventure nowadays. Some moments I feel so elated I could fly, others I feel suicidal hopelessness, and others I'm simply on the ground. I have some very difficult moral choices to make. The kind where there is no good choice and I must find the one that is least wrong.

Another day today. Another day again. Days just seem to come one after another these days.

I freaked out earlier about what was apparently just me reading people wrong. I went off and headed to a place in Somerville were I was going to let the commuter rail hit me. I kept blanking out on the way there, and it was very confusing. I saw two car crashes today since I got out of the psych ward. One right in front of the house_of_clocks and the other on Mass Ave in Cambridge as I was walking to Union Square. I made it as far as porter then I had a spell and ended up on the ground and skinned my knee when I fell. A couple people were asking if I was okay, but I couldn't really walk right or talk to well. I kept telling them not to call anyone, but the guy called 911 anyway. Luckily Glenn and dicotomygrrl drove by and saw me. dicotomygrrl jumped out and rushed to help me. I told her that the guy had called the cops and she said she'd help me get out of there. Glenn pulled onto a nearby side street and dicotomygrrl helped me get into the back of the van and we were gone before anybody that might take me away arrived. purpleglitter and merryperseis were very worried about me, and purpleglitter came and picked me up at the Magic Dragon and we drove around and had egg salad and went to trader joe's. I feel bad that everyone has to worry about me. I keep flipping between deep suicide death want feeling to delirious dancing mood. I think I've completely lost it. My mind has snapped. i don't want to go back to the place. They are mean there and they want to make me a zombie and they don't believe anything i say. I want to stay out. I want this rollercoaster ride to end, it's making me dizzy and it makes everyone around me worried and sad.

I'm back home. Finally. I've was elated when I got out, but my mood has slipped back down. There were cups in my room with inches of mold in them. It smelt bad. purpleglitter is downstairs cleaning the kitchen. She's been so helpful with everything. She always has been. I've been so awful and grumpy with her at times, but she's been so awsome. I wish I could learn to be a nice person. I can't figure things out. I feel lucky and cursed at the same time. When I was at Bournewood many years ago another patient called me a contradiction, and I am. I should not exist, but I do. I do not wish to continue, but I do. My room is completely trashed and I don't want purpleglitter to clean it. I already feel guilty enough she's doing the cleaning in the kitchen that I should be doing. I'm a dysfunctional mess, and I can't understand why people put up with me.