I’m looking at my calendar with a picture of Peacham, Vermont in its entire autumn splendor. Jet Blue dinged my email account and I could board a flight now! I love New England, especially in the Fall season. I love all the colors and the quietness contrasting with the waves of the ocean crashing the shores of the beaches. I love the little towns and of course Dunkin Doughnuts. The leaves here are turning colors, if you can acknowledge it, in Colorado. Basically the Aspens turn yellow and brown, and some other trees turn boring colors and drop their pathetic leaves quickly. Sad show of seasonal flair to brag about, yet the local news stations update the “Best of Foliage” color location for the weekend. I just turn the T.V. off in protest as I throw the remote at nothing in particular. I could buy those pathetic fall garlands at the art and craft/crap stores and wrap a strand around my porch rail, but I found two books of matches last week and the impulse to ignite useless objects is so intense lately……where are all of those people who leave those thick, ignitable phone books on our porch?????
Chat session: My husband went in first as I sat out reading a book and thinking about my matches. The conclusion of their chat was that my husband will drive me to my sessions, I will not take Xanax and I think that was about it. Apparently being sedated just a tad bit is not helpful, yet I disagree. I talked to Enemy next and he said that he was not dismissing me. I knew that he was, but now he isn’t. I did give him something I wrote which was not something I generally would say out loud, but my husband thought it would help the chat session progress. He thinks I’ve made a lot of progress – I don’t. I tried to cut my Seroquel back 50 mgs.’s thinking it may help, but after the first night I realized that was a terrible mistake and went back to my regular dosage. I already take less than most people do. Life is too short to complicate it with pharmaceutical chemicals that reduce your mind to delusional dreams in which you are trapped until the chemicals relinquish their hold on your mind long enough for you to become free of its manipulation. I got that message loud and clear. What a hellish nightmare untreated psychotic people must endure without being properly treated with medications/mental health professionals. I’ve always had problems with medications, in all of my mental health files the predominant two words throughout the pages are “non – compliant”. It wasn’t for lack of trying, I can remember trying, but when you are split in so many different ways, not all want to be fucked up on sedating medications. Being creative is the worse case scenario in my world, yet some how I am compliant now.
I am almost done going through all of my records. They are of no use to me and I am perplexed as to why my 1st Enemy thought I should have them. The remaining journals I have are from before I was diagnosed D.I.D. Those I find interesting in some ways, but now I have to decide what to do – probably destroy as well. It’s difficult to put words to how I feel about what I see in the progression of the questions I kept asking of the illness as it rapidly spun out of control during the first couple of years. I looked at the medical charts and the journal side by side and wondered how on earth could these quote “Professionals” could not put two and two together before I met enemy #1? It’s so transparent. The repeated question in 2/3’s of the entries was “I wonder who I’ll be when I wake up tomorrow? And often followed by “if I will wake up tomorrow.” Yes – I was non-compliant because I did not fit into their cookie cutter mold of the HMO six-week treatable nut diagnosis at my family’s expense. The ‘90’s were an interesting time to be in the infancy of the insurance regulatory practices. I can’t imagine what the psychiatrists were going through when their patients were dropping like flies because the HMO’s were mandating the three-month waiting period each time an insured client switched companies. My psychiatrist lined up pharmaceutical reps. for samples during my lapses in coverage. It was very difficult with my husband climbing the corporate ladder in the nineties. Now we are lucky to stay employed and with Obama lord knows what will happen. So many mental health facilities have been closed down, yet Obama has shoved money our way for eco something’s and rebates for appliances. I hope he filter’s money for our bridges since our homeless will increase and need better under passes this winter!
My husband wants to begin going to NAMI (National Alliance of Mental Illness) meetings again since his hours and days changed at his company. Becoming more aware of what is going on in our state in regards to the mentally challenged only frustrates me more. I’m too self conscious to become involved in any of the programs, but the lectures sometimes are informative. I do look at people who are begging at the street corners in Denver, while I lock the car doors, differently now, of course some of the people could be bankers and CEO’s of fallen companies of fortune 500’s.