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.

There was a point in my life where I would have taken any drug put in front of me. I didn't care how I felt as long as it was different. And I did lots of drugs, from street to psych and in between

I would smoke pot all day every day I could, drink way too much, take crystal and heroin and cocaine, pop klonopin and seroquel and zyprexa and whatever other nasty thing the psych people gave me. The only reason i never became addicted to heroin or cocaine was that I was never able to attain a steady supply and it is only by the grace of God that I am not an alcoholic. Going through geodon withdrawals was enough to make me very thankful I didn't go through that with anything else.

I am glad I moved on from that place, I know many who didn't. Many who couldn't. Many who never will.

When I fall into these troughs like I've been in the last several days, I must keep mindful of how far I've come. Where I was and where I am. I got through that, I can get through this.

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.

I'm trying to keep from looping, but sometimes it happens anyway. If I catch the loop early, I can break free of it by will power or meditational prayers. But, once it gets going very strongly, my mind becomes blocked to the All and I can see only the loop. Different strategies are then needed.

I used to use methods such as cutting and purging to pull me out. But they only worked somewhat, and ended up becoming loops in and of themselves.

Methods I use now are taking a walk, taking a long shower, smoking a cigar, smoking some weak salvia, or talking with Sol or Luna.

If the looping is beyond that, I will attempt to go to sleep. Sleep seems to be the most powerful non-destructive method of reseting loops available on a daily basis. I can wake up and am able to do my meditational prayer again and find the balance.

If I can't get to sleep, I take one of the dwindling number of Klonopins I have left over from when I had a prescription. I know that it's technically a psych med, but my dislike for psych meds is rooted in living on them. Taking one occasionally, especially with the intent of using it to sleep, is not the kind of use I am weary of.

Sometimes even sleep isn't enough. The looping load has a habit of building over time and occasionally A much larger reset button is needed. But I am not currently at that point.

I'm doing much better at keeping myself in the good place, even if I still loop sometimes. The fact that I am not freaking out all the time with my current level of stress is in and of itself a vast improvement. While I still have minor freakouts, they pass quickly. And even when I'm looping and out of touch, I am more able to move and function. I'm finding new ways to adapt. New ways to continue. New ways to be.

It's a difficult journey, but it is a journey that I have no choice but to take. An easy path was never promised to anyone. Although my path has seen many hardships, it has also seen many joys, and for that I am truly blessed.

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 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.

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.

well that was a bust. i tripped. I tripped quite a lot. but i didn't learn anything and it was generally unpleasant, so around 3:00am I figured out I wasn't going to learn anything and all I would do was be generally unpleasant for the next six hours, so i took 160mg or geodon and 4mg of klonopin and went to sleep.

i'm spiraling downward fast
i'm thinking of making myself into an ice sculpture
i haven't decided if i'm going to do it yet
but it is very tempting
i've decided i definitely don't want to throw myself in front of a train
i don't want to traumatize the engineer
going outside and pouring water all over myself to make myself encased in ice seems artistic
i probably should just take my meds and go to sleep
but i can't get myself to do that either
i thought of cutting
but that seems useless
i haven't made a post like this in some time
some might say i should call the psych emergency room
but i don't want to do that
i just want to be alone
i want to figure this out
i probably shouldn't have stopped taking my celexa
but i lost it
there's nothing i can really do about that
i can't afford to replace it
i can't start taking it again, i don't have any
it'll be 3 or 4 weeks before i can get more
i should just take some geodon and klonopin and go to sleep
forget about taking the trash out
it can wait another week
i just spent 15 minutes curled up on the kitchen floor
i finally got up and came up here
this is going to be a long night

scratch that receding bit
the panic, twitchy, loopy feeling is coming back full force
i wish i had my klonopin here, i'd take some and go to sleep
i don't like this
i don't like this

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 smok