Tag Archives: Mental Health

WHY ARE THERE SO MANY RULES?

In case you didn’t know I have not dated in over 10 years.

I wasn’t really looking to when I moved to a new state but I met someone unexpectedly. Finding someone with the same sense of humor, taste in music, and is easy to talk to (in person), is rare for me. Looks have never been as important to me as laughing and a good hug is. That being said the man I met happens to be extremely attractive. I thought I would have to call 911 for my Aunt when I showed her a picture of him. (insert laughter here)

I found out pretty fast that I wasn’t as good at texting/messaging as I am in person.

If I can’t see a person’s eyes and facial expressions I will overthink every little word/sentence that is sent to me. Who knew this would cause so many problems? Who knew there are so many likes/dislikes, pet peeves, and rules for texting!

For anyone else that is as confused as I am I have compiled information from various “love experts”, psychologists, and surveys. Take it all with a grain of salt or you’ll end up depressed and confused for days, weeks, months, maybe even years.

MEN’S PET PEEVES

  1. Initiating boring conversation: Supposedly a red flag for men giving them the impression that this is the best you have to offer. The advice given is to talk about things you’re passionate about. (I don’t think talking about mental health, stigma, bullying, or why serial killers do what they do is going to help me)
  2. Texting more than they do especially about things that don’t matter. (How are you supposed to know what matters unless you ease into it with small talk first?)
  3. NOT texting as much as they do or barely replying. It’s a blow to their ego. (Umm…WTF?)
  4. Responding with vague answers. Allegedly men just want clear cut answers. (So would I!)
  5. Ignoring compliments or deflecting them. They see it as a sign of insecurity. (First of all I am insecure and second I’m also humble.)
  6. Complaining about when they’ve “seen” your text but didn’t reply right away. According to a survey you are ALLOWED to question them about it 24 hours after your last text. (thanks for your permission)
  7. Frequently sending “missent” messages. Apparently they know what you’re up to. (Because of my kidneys my vision changes frequently and some profile pics look the same so I have done this at least once)
  8. Forcing them to reply at work. The only time it’s okay is if he’s not doing anything important. (Because I’m psychic?)
  9. Using one word answers. (Personally I think men do this way more than women)
  10. Bad grammar- One study showed that most men are turned off by incorrect spelling and using contractions wrong. (This is actually a pet peeve of mine but I’ve rarely received messages where the person’s grammar is perfect)
  11. Using ALL CAPS. They perceive it as shouting.
  12. No more than 3 texts in a row if he doesn’t answer after the first one. Don’t keep messaging without waiting for an answer.
  13. Really long texts. They will probably only be glanced at before he puts his phone away. (How am I supposed to talk about topics that I’m passionate about in one sentence?)
  14. Asking “aren’t you going to text me back?!”. It sounds clingy. (it also sounds one step from “I won’t be ignored Dan!” from Fatal Attraction.)

I’ll let you absorb this while I work on the Statistics and Emojis conundrum.

TO BE CONTINUED….

Dating Would Be So Much Better If We Could Just Kill Texting

 


PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITALS~ HOW MUCH HAVE THEY REALLY CHANGED?

 

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If you’ve read my previous posts you’ll know that I had been having a hard time with the death of my Dad and my siblings. My Dad didn’t leave a Will and it was and still is causing a lot of problems.

I have a twin sister and a half brother who is 7 years older than we are. I believed he had been squatting on the property and breaking into the basement with his new girlfriend. My twin believed I was hallucinating and having a Psychotic break. No matter what I said or did she refused to believe me.

My sister wanted me to get away from the house for awhile to see if I was still “hearing things” and suggested an Extended Stay Hotel for 30 days. I really didn’t want to but I was exhausted, recovering from surgery, and tired of arguing with her.

The Hotel parking lot was filled with drunk people, one of them was passed out in his car where I had to park. It was going to cost me $1,450 to stay there for 30 days. The room was filthy, my poor dog was scared to death and I kept worrying he was making too much noise. I didn’t sleep at all and had started bleeding from my surgery. My sister came the next day and even she was disgusted. I was stuttering and shaking because I was upset. She said I needed to do an inpatient treatment program at the local Psychiatric Hospital or she wouldn’t have anything to do with me any longer. I had ruined her life and now her marriage was suffering because of me.

She knows I’m terrified of hospitalization and haven’t been hospitalized since I had one round of ECT in 2012. This was my twin saying these things to me, I had no one else to talk to, the one person I had that accepted me and loved me unconditionally had just died. I agreed to go to the hospital. She agreed to watch my dog and dropped me off at the door.

As soon as I entered the building my legs buckled. I couldn’t speak or write. The staff was nice enough to help me to a chair and wait until I calmed down enough to speak. I didn’t know my sister had called ahead and told them that I was “hearing voices”. This meant I would automatically go to the highest security level unit. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive her.

The were only a few changes since 2012, they no longer mixed the detoxing patients with the mental health patients. They also had more restrictions on what you could have with you. 1 pair of pants, 1 shirt, 2 pairs of underwear, 1 pair of pajamas, 1 pair of glasses, 1 set of contact lenses (no solution), and that’s pretty much it. Needless to say some people didn’t always smell that great. The bathroom doors had no locks (which I understand) and no way of telling if it was occupied. Every single time I went to use the toilet my roommate walked in on me. We talked to her about it and 5 minutes later she did it again. She also snored louder than anyone I know and talked about personal trauma in her sleep that I was extremely uncomfortable hearing. Again, no sleep.

The second day there I called my sister to check on my dog. She told me she might have to “give him away because T (her husband) didn’t want him there”. This triggered my stuttering, tremors, crying, hiccups, and I had to hide in my room or I would’ve been given Haldol. The doctor in charge of the Unit was in charge of ECT and a big believer in Lithium, Haldol, and Depakote. He was an older man and not up to date on newer medications/treatments. He was also against Adderall, Xanax, and Klonopin. I’ve been taking 30mg of Adderall for years it helps with word finding, my speech, and cognitive issues. He took it away cold turkey, cut my antidepressant in half, and cut the Klonopin in half. He then told me I shouldn’t have any withdrawal or problems with the changes. I’ve been on the same meds and dosages for years.

He didn’t even question the new medication that had been added, Risperidone, which I was having horrible side effects from and felt worse since taking it. Frustrated doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt. He couldn’t even get my name right for the 5 minutes I met with him every other day.

I didn’t receive any kind of therapy, we did a lot of adult coloring and watched TV. Some of the patients were violent which was hard for me to be around. The men and women are kept together, there were a few physical fights that happened next to me and I froze, hands cold and tingling, blood rushing through my ears, I didn’t even hear them yelling at me that it was a lockdown and I needed to go to my room. I finally had to speak up and tell them about my PTSD and Conversion Disorder diagnosis.

The one positive thing to come out of all this is that I learned I have to speak up for myself. I can’t ask or let other people do it for me anymore.

There are things I need to work on and one on one Psychotherapy is my first step. It’s been difficult finding someone who takes Medicare but I’m still looking. My meds are almost back to where they were. I was in the hospital for a little over a week. I’m not sure if I can ever truly have a relationship with my twin sister. I’ll be civil but I won’t call her for support or tell her anything personal.

I’ve been walking my dog and getting more fresh air, I’ve also been looking into what I need to do to move to Florida once my Dad’s estate is settled.

The Extended Stay charged me $1,450 for being there less than 24 hours. Hopefully that will get resolved. Supposedly my sister handled it and told them I was going into the hospital. I wasn’t there so I don’t know and my sister is on vacation so I can’t ask her.

My hospital stay was scary and not much has changed but the staff was kind and I received 1 marriage proposal and 3 phone numbers (from patients) when I left. I’ll never let anyone talk me into or make me feel like I have to do it again. I didn’t hear my brother’s voice or anyone else’s the entire time I was there.

Thanks Everyone!


BUT YOU’RE GONE

FIRST THINGS FIRST 

Why do people insist on putting a time limit on grieving? Or continuously ask you how you are but it sounds more like “Are you done yet?”. My best and possibly only friend of 35 years accidentally said out loud “How long has it been? Almost a month? Hmm…it’s close.” But I know her, I know she was doing her own equation on how to deal with feelings (eww). I do wonder how she became the way she is and what makes her love me and stay my friend no matter what.

I hear you call my name 20 times a day, I can hear you whistling “Moon River” from my sister’s wedding, I hear you say the only swear you ever really used, all because of your birds. Birds we all thought at one time or another, you loved more than us. The 2 that are left are like me, broken and unpredictable, no one wants them.

This hysterical commercial came on and I turned my head to your end of the couch to ask if you had seen it too. But you were gone. I keep forgetting.

I had to listen to a message on my phone, I didn’t know there was one from you from when you were in the hospital. I sat in my car and cried.

Yes, I have found myself outside liquor stores and bars since January 11th. Physically I can’t, I don’t know why but my body can handle maybe half of a beer (not the best example considering I’m allergic) before I feel nauseous. It isn’t Antibuse or anything like that it’s having 38% kidney function. I don’t want it to go any lower.

The biggest problem is the loneliness. I’m not used to being alone this much. My Dad deserves a lot of credit for listening to me babble for so many years.

The rest of my family doesn’t really want to have much to do with me. Everyone has their own lives or I said something they didn’t like so they avoid me. My twin sister doesn’t want me in her life until I go through an “intensive treatment program” because I am a “manipulative c*nt and a dry drunk”. I also “never take responsibility for anything I’ve ever said or done”.

In ten years no one else has ever called me a “dry drunk” and I know plenty.

I’m the first one to take responsibility when I know that I’m wrong.

I don’t always know that I’ve offended someone or said things I didn’t mean when backed into a corner or if I feel threatened.

I know I am alone.

I miss my Dad more than anything.

I wish I could be in Florida with my Auntie L. who would hug me and talk to me.

They listened to you Dad. Without paperwork I told you they would run right over me. I know you felt guilty and torn about what to do so you kept putting it off. Now I’m stuck doing what I’m told waiting for the day I’m free.

I love you Dad

 


PTSD, Triggers, Keeping Silent And Remembering Trauma

The smallest things will trigger a response from me. A loud male voice behind me at the grocery store, the smell of beer and leather, bright lights and loud music, aggressive men in general, and even the way my Dad calls my name sometimes startles me.

Deep in the back of my mind I think I still resent my Dad for the way he handled everything. For the way he shook his hand and thanked him for bringing me home. For the way he called me a “drunk and a liar” as I was on the floor covered in blood, in and out of consciousness.

It wasn’t the first time, it was just the worst time.

REMEMBERING THAT NIGHT

I don’t remember the day. I don’t remember the exact year. I remember the apartment because I was there everyday. I remember the person because we had been as close as two people can be for over 10 years. We were both alcoholics. The only difference was I did my drinking between 4pm and 3am. I never drank during the day and I never drank alone. He drank whenever, by himself or with other people.

Over the years I had seen him be cruel. He had been physical with me on a fee occasions but I wasn’t a small girl and always thought I could handle him. I thought I could handle all of them, that it was no big deal. I admit to drinking to the point of blacking out at times, having no memory of the previous night. I know during these times some things happened without my permission. I only know this by how I looked when I woke up and where I woke up.

I was undiagnosed Bipolar and doing anything I could to not feel emotions. My alcoholism eventually made this a million times worse. I also admit I wasn’t always nice while drinking. I could be obnoxious, jealous, and petty.

I would try to stop or slow down my drinking many times.

One night I took my cousin to the apartment with me, I wasn’t drinking. Someone thought it would be funny to put Rum in my soda. I took a big gulp and that was it. He was pissed and said “You better not get drunk because you’re not staying here tonight”. Of course this pissed me off and I thought “Who the hell is he to tell me how much to drink? He wouldn’t even have groceries or clean laundry if it wasn’t for me.” So I drank and drank.

At some point we started to argue. Over the years he always said to me “You always hurt the ones you love the most”. And he did.

I turned my back to walk away from him, he picked up a heavy oak chair with wheels and hit me over the back of my head.

I tried to fight back and it angered him more, he grabbed my hair and pulled me to the floor. He got on top of me with all his weight, pinning my arms down with his knees.

He started punching me in the face, he wore a skull ring. All these years later, if you look closely, you can see a scar on my chin and an indent on my nose. With each punch he said a word “YOU, STUPID, FUCKING, BITCH” I remember spit flying out of his mouth and my nose swelling shut.

The blood started to go down the back of my throat and I felt like I was drowning. I couldn’t get any air and I couldn’t move. For the first time ever I was terrified.

Eventually he pulled me up by my hair. I noticed one of the bedroom doors open and a girl I had known for years looked out at me and hurried to shut the door. I know I said “Help” but maybe I wasn’t loud enough. My cousin was asleep in a bedroom.

I had bleach blond hair at the time, it was soaked with blood. Everything was soaked with blood.

He dragged me to his apartment door which was always open and threw me down the stairs. I don’t know how long I stayed at the bottom of the stairs.

The next thing I remember is being in a moving car.

He had his friend drive me and my cousin to my parent’s home. He carried me to the door where he told them I fell. I kept trying to tell them it was him, I didn’t just fall.

It might have been the blow to the head because I wasn’t able to remain conscious. My Dad took this as a sign of being extremely drunk.

When I could speak and told my parents as much as I could my Dad said no one would believe me. I shouldn’t have been there and I was a drunk and a liar. They told me not to go to the Hospital and that I would be fine.

I wasn’t fine and wouldn’t be fine for the rest of my life.

The heavy chair hitting my head had actually caused permanent damage. I found this out 6 months ago.

PTSD is bad enough. When you have an underlying mental health issue like Bipolar Disorder, Anxiety Disorders, and Substance Abuse Disorders, it can turn into something much more complicated.

Dealing with Conversion Disorder has been as bad as coping with Bipolar. I never really know what is going to set it off. It’s embarrassing to start stuttering and have people stare at you. To start shaking and have your hands tremor so bad you can’t count change. To have no control over your body.

I knew eventually he would get drunk and say something in front of the wrong people.

He did. A month later he bragged about what he had done to me in a bar filled with people. The story got back to my older brother and he in turn told my parents. My Dad was furious but both my parents encouraged me to let it go.

Two years later he was arrested for Domestic Assault & Battery and was sent to counseling. He broke the woman’s jaw.

These are some of the reasons we stay silent. We’re talked out of it, told no one will believe us, think we deserve it or we see that nothing is ever done about it when we finally do get the courage to speak up.ddc04855251fa6c0f0d2cc95d4f717f1

Towards the end of my Dad’s life he apologized for not doing more at the time. He said he thought about it often, it was one of his biggest regrets.

I make no excuses, my decisions are my own. I only offer an insight into what life can be like for someone with severe mental illness who doesn’t receive treatment.


It’s Been Awhile So Get Ready!

After not really writing for awhile, I started to notice I was becoming more irritable, irrational, quick to anger, isolated and depressed.

I’ve always had a problem with confrontation. I avoid it as much as I can. This has usually meant staying silent when someone hurts me or says/does something I disagree with.

Eventually I will reach a point where I can’t swallow anymore B.S. and I reach a breaking point. Whoever is near me at this time suffers the consequences.

I can physically feel it happening. I hear my blood rushing in my ears, I lose my vision except for the color red or red dots and my head gets incredibly hot.

When it’s over, I don’t remember all of it, only bits and pieces. I know I screamed and yelled, said some horrible things, but I don’t remember the specifics.

I don’t make excuses for myself. I have tried to explain why it happens.

One of the most difficult things is when your loved ones think you aren’t trying hard enough.

When I had my last kidney surgery to change my stents, it was embedded and partially blocked with a build up of mineral and calcium deposits.

Your kidneys filter toxins from your blood and help keep your bodies chemistry in balance.

If you have 1 kidney working at 40% that has been compromised because the stent keeping it working at 40% has become embedded and blocked, your blood isn’t being filtered and your body chemistry is thrown off.

Now imagine you have an illness involving a chemical imbalance in your brain. Plus most of the medications you take go through your kidneys.

This would cause a huge problem if this went on for 6 months without you or your doctor knowing.

So when my stents were finally changed it was like starting over. I felt like I was mentally back where I was at 20 years old. My Psychiatrist didn’t adjust my medications even though he received all the reports. I was basically starting fresh but at high doses. All the medications that had been in my system I had detoxed from. One of the reasons I felt the way I did.

Starting over with all the side effects is horrendous. There have been times I just wanted to get in my car and start driving until I ran out of gas.

My Dad isn’t doing well and I’ve had to worry and take care of him. He has multiple disc herniations and bulges in his back. There’s also a compression at L4 and extreme spinal stenosis and arthritis. When I heard them ask if he knew he had several healed fractions I thought I was going to vomit.

He was too busy bragging about how many pounds of grain he can lift and carry to feed his 300 birds! He told me he got rid of almost all of them. He lied. Then continued to dig the hole deeper by boasting of all the other things he isn’t supposed to be doing.

I can’t chain him to his chair. He turned 75 on June 5th. I called and reminded my sister the night before. She NEVER CALLED HIM. On the 7th I called her and asked if she had called our Dad. She said she was going to. I asked why she didn’t do it on his actual birthday. She replied “He didn’t call me on my Birthday” That’s when the blood started rushing. In the last month she has told me 3 different times that she or her and her husband dislike my behavior and how I don’t take responsibility for anything.

I never see my sister and her husband. Since I had that 1 fight with him 4 or 5 years ago I’ve been kept at a distance. But they still bring up my “behavior”. How do you know what my behavior is when you’re never around me?

Sorry if I’m mad because once again I’m the one taking care of one of our parents and I’ll be the one that gets to watch them get worse and worse. I’ll be the one to either find him dead or watch him die at the hospital while you make excuses from 10 minutes away.

She never called for Father’s Day either.

I can’t watch another parent die.

Watching my mother almost killed me. I can still see her face, the nurses laughing, my Dad howling, the blood, like it’s right in front of me.

I remember her last words to me and that kills me.

I don’t want to do it again. But he never left me. I owe him. I know the rest of my family figures it’s okay because I’m alone and they think I’ll stay that way. Maybe they’re right and I should accept it.


FINDING MYSELF

I’m not a religious person. I believe in what I can see and feel. This makes it hard for me to find any real spirituality that fits in with what I believe.

I’ve researched Buddhism, which is okay but I would have to fake a lot of the positive thinking they have going on. I’m not sure my body can do Yoga right now either. Most of their concepts are hard for me to wrap my brain around.

I’ve researched Hinduism which is similar to Buddhism but not.

Paganism which can get a little dicey. My Celtic/Norse heritage which can also be a tough one. Shamanism sounded good so did Wicca but I have too many questions and I’ve never been someone who could “just believe” in anything.

I tend to lean toward the darker side of things. I know it’s unhealthy.

I do believe in animals and love to watch them and their behaviors. My favorite has always been the Wolf.

I also think there is something to the metaphysical properties in gemstones. I can’t dispute the research that’s been done the last 50 years or what’s been found that’s the same across many cultures and beliefs. Amber is has the same meaning and properties to Native Americans as it does to Buddhists. I enjoy working with real gemstones. I’m not talking diamonds. I’m talking amethyst, black onyx, agates, the less expensive ones.

I’m still lost and have no idea what I’m doing. I need purpose. I’m also tired of modern medicine telling me they can’t help me anymore.

My GFR is at 40 and my recent surgery didn’t go well when they changed they my ureteral stents. One became embedded which caused more scar tissue which I can’t afford to have. This means having my stents changed more frequently under anesthesia and having a breathing tube. Of course they couldn’t wake me for 2 hours after the surgery because my twin drove me to the hospital and decided to tell me exactly what she thought of me before I went under the anesthesia. When you have Conversion Disorder that can’t happen. The anesthesiologist was not happy with my sister. He had seen her talking to me before the surgery and he had seen me crying.

It’s been a difficult couple of months. I’m more tired than usual, my neck and hips are killing me and my social anxiety has been at an all time high. I’m used to physical pain so my neck and hips have to be bad for me to complain. I kept working while I had 2 herniated discs in my back with 2 bulging discs above and below each one. The only thing that finally stopped me was when I got stuck on the pavement getting out of my car. They thought I wasn’t showing up until I finally reached my cell phone and told them I was outside on the ground. lol

My Dad is having sciatic nerve pain right now and is the biggest baby I’ve ever seen. He won’t listen to a thing I say even though I’ve been through it all. I had 3 Epidurals, water therapy, a 2 hour IV drip of some cocktail to release the muscle spasms because I was shaped like the letter L and they refused to do surgery because it would cause a domino effect. But he listens to one of his friends who says he was kidnapped by aliens! It’s frustrating.

Other than all of this everything is okay.group-wolves-called_9ee7f18bde1c5374


TAKING RESPONSIBILITY AND TOXIC PEOPLE

I had surgery to replace my Ureteral Stents on May 14th. My twin sister drove me because my Dad has dialysis on Mondays. As soon as she got in the car I felt the tension. I was already feeling anxious and wasn’t allowed to take any of my Bipolar medications before the surgery. I don’t remember what started it. I think I started crying and it annoyed her. We also got lost on the way to the Hospital and she refused to listen to me. She wanted to drop me off at the door. I told her she had to come in and talk to them so they knew I actually had a ride home.

She wanted to valet park my car and I didn’t understand why when you could park yourself for free. She wasn’t paying for it. I always feel weird about valet parking. It’s a Hospital, you don’t need to valet park. This annoyed her further.

She didn’t want to come back with me while I waited for them to take me into surgery. One of the nurses must have said something to her because she eventually came back to sit with me. It was a mistake.

She was showing me pictures of my nephews. I love them more than anything. I didn’t know the older one spoke in front of the Mayor and 300 people on behalf of the Little League. They looked so grown up. Of course I started to tear up.

My sister said “You know you can come over any time and see them”. I looked at her with my mouth open. I then said “I have to wait for your husband to leave the house first?”. She didn’t answer right away. Then she said “Neither one of us like your behavior or how you don’t take responsibility for anything you say or do”. That was the beginning of the end.

The anesthesiologist came into the room to talk to me while my sister was there. He came back after she left. He asked if I was okay. I told him I was fine. He said he was asking because I have a history of not wanting to come out of the anesthesia.

Nothing went well. They blew a vein in my IV, one of the stents became embedded and encrusted, someone taped my top lip to the breathing tube and didn’t realize it until they pulled it out taking the skin of my lip with it, and they couldn’t wake me.

After 3 hours I woke up. The anesthesiologist came in again. He said that he knew I was upset before going under and that it can’t happen again. He said at some point I’ll stay under because of my Conversion Disorder diagnosis. When I’m stressed, anxious, or sad I don’t always have control of neurological functions. It’s scary.

All of this made me realize the people around me are not going to change. I have to change how I react, my environment, and how I cope. I also need to recognize toxic people and situations.

TO BE CONTINUED…..be5d9e9599909984881e21c7036e306e


TO MY MOM

It’s been 10 years since you passed away. It hasn’t gotten any easier. I still can’t bring myself to visit your grave. The rest of the family make comments about this. I don’t care.

You would be disappointed with us. I know you would. The petty fighting and grudges we hold against each other. Some things can’t be forgiven. You could always forgive and that’s why we loved you.

The one thing I had a problem with was your enabling everyone around you. I know it came from love but you never realized when someone wasn’t being truthful or sincere. Maybe I had been around too many liars, cons, addicts, and thieves so I spotted it easily. It would take years after your death for people to believe me.

There’s nothing worse than your family thinking your “too dramatic” or “making stuff up” all the time. One thing I don’t do when I’m sober is lie. Actually when I drank I was too truthful and that got me into trouble too.

When I first saw you in that hospital room I felt like I wasn’t in my own body. I was outside of it watching as it all happened. I didn’t feel anything for a long time. I somehow knew if I did it would end me. It almost did anyway.

Months later I found myself in the bathroom at work screaming into a bunch of paper towels. I couldn’t move or stop crying. All I could see was your face, eyes open and blank, bloody foam that wouldn’t stop bubbling from your mouth. All I heard were nurses laughing and Dad wailing like a wounded animal. I didn’t want to remember any of it.

Your oldest granddaughter decided to dedicate many tattoos to you and acts as if she was the only one who lost you. Her mother visits your grave often. Your granddaughter also decided to write me and say some of the most hurtful things I’ve ever had said to me.

She has replaced J as number 1 on my shit list. I’d rather be punched in the face than have someone say what the things she said. But she’s found God so I guess she thinks it’s okay to make someone feel like dirt. It’s okay to tell them they should’ve killed themselves because they are waste of space and their own mother didn’t love them as much as she loved other people. It was 3 pages of this crap.

I hope you don’t know what’s going Mom because you would be as hurt and angry as I am. Dad finally told me what you really thought today and you weren’t fooled after all.

You are MY MOM I took care of you and loved you. I think about you always and miss you often. I’m letting go of the toxic people. I don’t have the time to help people who don’t want to be helped. From now on I’m helping myself and Dad from time to time. I love you.11059761_10207494279902008_1407885758767048615_n


THERE’S A DIFFERENT GENERATION OF ADDICTS NOW THAT ARE HARDER TO REACH

I had the name of the street the apartment was on when the paramedics revived you. I drove up and down it for hours, holding my breath, hoping to see your face. I didn’t.

It scared me to read your posts on Facebook. I knew you were in trouble. I knew because we think the same.

The problem is this new generation of addicts with mental health issues think they’re the first ones to ever have these thoughts or do what they do. They’ve been raised to think everything they do is special and unique. I’m sorry but it isn’t. This is the problem.

Your parents think a week in detox makes you okay. You get out, they give you a big hug and send you on your way. They attend nightly meetings on how to “cope with their addicted child” while you’re back on the street again repeating everything you did the week before.

The mental health part is usually ignored or only touched on briefly because no one wants a child with a mental illness. A child that’s an addict is better. The shame of your child having both would be too much.

The parents created the problem. At least the parents I’m referring to did.

I offer my help multiple times over the years only to be told “No, she’s fine. Focus on yourself.”

This was my last time reaching out. My heart can’t handle watching a beautiful young girl slowly die any longer. I’m tired of biting my tongue and taking abuse from other family members for trying to help. So I’m done. I’m letting go.

I can’t spend what time I have left worrying about people who don’t want or need my help or even want me in their lives.

I laughed for the first time in a long time the other day. I talked to my best friend. The only one who ever really understood me. I had to tell her about my health and I wanted her opinion on making my twin sister my medical proxy. She agreed that I shouldn’t. If I can’t trust my sister because of the way she threatens me or uses my illness against me than I shouldn’t be giving her any control over any areas of my life.

I have the hardest time letting go. I have to get past it if I want to follow through with my road trip to Texas after my surgery. There’s just one thing I left to do and W agrees I should go for it. Granted W is a little out there like me which is why I love her. But she has always accepted me for who I am no matter what. d94bebff677aa86360da53bcc7ab03eb--addiction-quotes-addiction-recovery


I AM LOST

A Urologist is a doctor who specializes in the diagnosis and treatment of diseases of the kidneys and urinary system in men and women. They also perform surgery and treat tumors, cysts, and stones.

A Nephrologist is a doctor who specializes in the diagnosis and treatment of diseases of the kidney such as inflammation of the kidney, Chronic Kidney Disease, high blood pressure, and Diabetes. They prepare patients for the reality of dialysis and kidney transplant. They do not do surgery.

Patients with early Chronic Kidney Disease need to be evaluated on a regular basis to prevent complications from nephro toxic drugs, dehydration and low Vitamin D. Many prescription medications need to be adjusted with CKD because they build up in the body’s system.

Common eye problems for people with kidney disease include dry, red, sore eyes that feel gritty. This happens because of impaired blinking and tear formation causing dry eyes. Extra calcium and phosphate can also settle in the eyes causing irritation. Kidney disease can also cause pressure behind the eye making vision blurry. Low blood glucose also causes blurred vision and confusion.

My Glucose levels have been consistently low. My last 3 results from 3/16 to 3/17 were 64, 68, and 67. These were done without fasting so I had breakfast which included sugar, cinnamon, and chocolate and coffee with sugar and Mocha Almond Fudge creamer.

When I’ve gone to Nephrologists they tell me I need a Urologist. Urologists can’t answer my questions and tell me I need a Nephrologist or another specialist.

I asked if changing my stents would help with my fatigue and vision. The Urologist said my stents shouldn’t be the reason I’m tired and have blurred vision. I’m in Stage 3b of Chronic Kidney Disease which CAUSES CONFUSION, FATIGUE, AND CHANGES IN VISION.

No one knows why I have kidney disease and they are not lining up to find out. I can’t get a Primary Care Doctor because I have too many health problems with “unknown” origins. This makes me a “difficult patient” so they refuse to take me. Then the specialists I have complain because I don’t have a Primary Care.

SICK OF IT!

BRAINSTORM

I’ve been thinking about my niece a lot. I want to drive cross country. I’m thinking I should take her with me. I’ve been sober 10 years, I have experience with heroin addicts, I know more than anyone should about mental health, I’ve been where she is, she would be locked in a fast moving vehicle with me, she would have to be responsible for some of the driving, it would give her something to focus on and get her away from a toxic environment, I could leave her in the desert if she gives me trouble (joking kind of), I really feel in my gut this would be good.

No one else in family will think it’s a good idea. I can already imagine all the negative comments. She’s 20, I’m 45, I believe I can honestly help someone I love. I haven’t been allowed to do so for some reason. I don’t know if her mother doesn’t trust me or if it’s something else but it’s better than letting her live on the streets.

I don’t know how you could refuse to let me try to help but kick her out and let her be homeless. Another week where all I did was cry. I heard nothing more about the situation until she overdosed and it made the news. I’m sad and a little angry.

If it is a bad idea let me know. Maybe I’m delusional or grasping at straw.


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