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Man whores

"You hate him, he is a man whore." These teenagers said to their friend in the locker room. "You cannot seriously go out with him Kelsey. Please tell me you haven't slept with him." They continued. "No, we just hung out." Kelsey replied. Oh if only I had such friends to save me from Karl or any sense to be better than that. *sigh* Society labels these men players, but I am glad to see teenagers see through these guys.
When I got accomodations at school people thought my life was somehow easier. It was only to get where the normal kids were. Not to say other people are not struggling, because I have talked to enough people to know "normal" can vary. But this isn't about defining healthy. I feel like I am trying to live a normal life while living a disabled life. I have to do everything for my recovery in addition to living my life as a regular person. The illness makes me feel like death is chasing me at every corner, if I strain myself too hard I know death is right there waiting. Not from depression or alcoholism, but schizophrenia. These episodes come on suddenly and despite efforts to control them they take over and can be deadly. I'm still pursuing the disability case over the schizophrenia piece of my disorder (well techically I have schizoaffective disorder), because I worry the stress from work could trigger me and these disability judges don't take it seriously. They don't listen very well. My case went to the appeals counsel and got denied. So I brought it to a federal lawyer, she found that the original judge from the hearing thought I worked in a chemistry lab when I actually worked in a computer lab. Two very different things. His whole decision was based on me working in a chemistry laboratory as a work study. Somehow this never came up in the hearing. I no longer trust the decision of this judge or my lawyer. But it is all so strange. I'm trying to recover and prove I can do what normal people with my intelligence and background can do simultaneously. I want to try computer science again. This whole time I thought the disability judge decided I could go back to being a computer labtech workstudy at a computer lab, not a chemistry lab. I haven't studied chemistry since high school. It was like my lawyer and this judge didn't listen to me. I don't know what else they missed, but I imagine more mistakes were made. Anyway, my other life as a computer scientist is coming along. I am reviewing algebra, factoring went well and I felt pretty good about that. I made it through my java programming book. I worked a tiny bit on this website for a nonprofit. I remember failing in the past and it gets to me, but I still want to keep trying. It is time to study now, I study almost every day for a few hours. I try not to wallow in self pity, because I can and have for hours at a time. All it seems to make me do is cry and not get anything done. Life is tough, none of us have it easy. I have a disease that wants me dead, I have several dangerous ones all connected together conspiring against me I have to outsmart daily. It keeps me alert and mindful. Thanks for reading!


But does anyone following Trump realize what he is doing is not good, but evil disguised as good? If it were Bernie would it be the same thing only I would be thinking he was doing good when harm was coming to others? Do any of us really know what is good or bad? Why do we even have politicians if we don' t know the difference between what is harmful and helpful? Or do we think we know? Isn't that ignorance in it's highest form? How many people are willing to sit down and really think about ethical actions? And how much good would it do if they did? Does any of this matter? What about the 18 million people who could have poisoned water at Standing Rock? Okay that last question isn't philosophical, I'm really upset by Standing Rock. Political issues take place in the here and now, to wait for the correct philosophical decision to be made often takes too long, because the decision must be made now or more harm could be done. But do politicians listen to philosophers? Does somebody like Trump listen to anyone else? He seems to be a flawed 8 type on the enneagram with a large ego, not to be offensive, I'm a deeply flawed type as well, but I'm not president either. A mildly flawed 8 could ruin a country. Now his fans would say nothing is flawed about him and he is a great leader, but people do this thing when they admire someone just like we do when we are in love, we don't see their flaws. It is fine, I understand, but the rest of the country sees exactly what your mother or father sees when you bring home someone bad for you. So the rest of us live with the nightmare of Trump every day. Every time he does something "good" it sounds horrific to me. My parents fear the worst and I'm stressed out about what might happen with this man as president. I'm trying to.peacefully accept he is president, but it isn't like when Bush was president. There is something more sinister about Trump. Historians compare Trump to Hitler. I know the fema camps might not be real, but what if they are? We have protests everywhere and a whole sections of the population being demonized. In Nazi Germany disabled people were taken out first, so I'm in one of those populations. He talks about doing scary things. People are blissfully unaware of the news, sometimes it feels better to walk away. He encourages people not to read the news and tells them it is fake. Nobody knows what is real or fake anymore. There is a media specticle keeping anyone who can read distracted. I don't know much myself, I have people screaming at me WAKE UP, sometimes I listen, but reality scares me. I don't know what is going is happen to this nation anymore. I hoped for a more peaceful nation less dependent on oil, but I know Trump doesn't want that. I hoped for a place where people are equal and where we have our basic needs met. But what do I know about political theory. My own ignorance can be my worst enemy. I know little about economics. What happens when everyone has what they need? Is this good or bad? Do I even know? But what about the opposite, it can't be good if no one has what they need and we struggle to work to survive like we do now. Nobody should have to work two jobs to barely afford a place to live, that isn't right either. There has to be a balance between communism and capitalism. Where we work to earn a living, trade, but have free time to enjoy life.

Why I never go anywhere

Nothing you ever do will be good enough
You suck
Everything you do is medicore
Your writing is terrible
Nobody wants to read your blog
You are stupid and will never amount to anything.
Nobody wants you.

This is what my brain is telling me, thanks brain. Best bully ever. This is why I need meditation and therapy.

Poem from group poetry at LG.

Wicked man from my past
The way he plays the piano sounds like the color of my red mood ring
His preference to cure conflict with columbines brings me dismay
Divine intervention takes over in a secular house
Empathy created for letting go.

(Goal: create a poem using the words: red, piano, mood ring, preference, columbine, dismay, divine, left, empathy, secular, house, and wicked. Words picked by the audience at a poetry reading, we were given ten minutes or so to write a poem and we read it as a group with a few other poets at So You're a Poet).

New trend? and depression

I hope with everyone reading 1984 writing and reading become popular. I know so many brillant poets who need money. I know so many people whose lives can be enriched with culture and poetry. At it's worst it could create a bunch of fake writers ranting at 4am on the internet about what their cat ate and threw up (which may be the best of the posts of this nature). At it's best our culture could be brought to a new level. I just know how people are, it is easier to keep up the illusion of being well read than to be well read. There are dozens of sudo intellectuals, but true intellectuals are hard to find. I respect someone who sits with a book at their reading level, because they enjoy it. I respect people who pontificate on philosophy, because they genuinely enjoy it. It is hard to tell sometimes who is faking it and who isn't, so I have to just accept everyone as authentic until they give me good reason to believe otherwise. Hey, I respect people who don't read too, we all have different interests and hobbies. If I spent less time ranting and reading I might be a better artist.

I am in a writing therapy group and this is the exercise:
Big questions
The nature of depression
Prompt from Writing Through the Darkness
It has been a long while now since a depressive episode. I still get sad or feel like crying. I still get suicidal thoughts. I remember the days it was difficult to get out of bed. I'd set three alarms, get out of bed and fall back to sleep. I remember crying for hours, it was like it would never stop. I wanted to get up, but when I tried I would collapse to the floor. I'd curl up into a ball on my couch crying and having negative thoughts. "There must be some way out of this" I thought "Life can't be this hard.". I watched a film noir movie with a scene about a black pit and I immediately related it to my depressive meditation where I struggled with a black pit in a basement and trying to escape from it as it was pulling me in. As I was sitting there crying the whole house was a mess, trash thrown everywhere. I wanted to clean it up, but every time I tried I felt overwhelmed. I tried asking the mental health center, but they said nobody helps with that they want to encourage clients to do it on their own. I kept having vivid images of wanting to harm myself, I wanted them to go away. I'd get them at awkward times like when a boss was telling me how to do a project or during a college lecture. It feels like someone kicked me and I fell down the stairs and I can't get up for hours months in a row everyday after I get home. I loved my job when I felt depressed. I lived for that job, but I felt sad all other times. I'd cry when I got home, I'd close the door and sink to the floor. The negative thoughts attacked me over and over. I had to get out of this depression, so I asked for help. The crisis line was the beginning of feeling better. It was like God reached out to me and lifted me up and out of despair, only I'm Buddhist so I looked within and asked for compassion from others. The crisis center suggested reading a book on cognitive behavioral therapy (see this does relate to the first part of the post) and going to more depression related groups. With the label schizoaffective disorder it feels like I have two diseases in one, depression and schizophrenia both trying to kill me at once but everyone says I am fine. I'll get caught up in self pity if I think too much about it, everyone struggles with something. Life is full of suffering, if I didn't suffer from this it would be something else. The depression led me back to studying enlightenment, so no matter how bad it felt or how hard it was to endure I am grateful for it. But I see now looking back and experiencing it sometimes how hard it is to get homework done with depression. People don't see the time it takes away, they just think I'm lazy. Now I am learning how to build a happy life so I won't get depressed again. Part of it is writing, so here I am.

How I was diagnosed

I didn't call into work after staying up for several days. I had to figure out how to stop the world from ending. I heard an expolsion outside. God was speaking to me. I arranged some words from my learning Latin kit on the bed. My stuff had to be arranged a certain way, then I took a picture. Suddenly I heard a knock at the door, was it connected to the end of the world or had God sent them there. It was unlocked, so mom just walked right in. "Dear, do you feel safe here?" Mom asks with a concerned tone of voice. Safe? I don't know it is the end of the world and God is speaking to me. "No." I said. "Pack up your stuff and get ready to go." Mom said. I had no idea where I was going, I packed some books and other things. Doctors interviewed me at the hospital. I wasn't sure if I was about to be famous or the next president of the United States, but I didn't know who he was or even who I was, I didn't even know what day it was even after they reminded me. Time seemed not to matter anymore, nothing mattered, the whole world had ended. I was sent to the psych ward with the other patients, I was talking to my voices, only they seemed real to me. I didn't see them, but I heard them and interacted with them. I left the hospital 14 days later, after the voices told me how to fake being sane. I read my discharge sheet with a diagnosis "psychosis nos". I didn't believe it. I contacted my boyfriend at the time and tried to hide it from him, but he asked me what the meds are for and googled it when I refused to tell him. I was in denial, stopped taking the meds and got hospitalized again, this time being diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic. The boyfriend had enough and left. It was a short relationship anyway. I was overmedicated this time. I had the money to see a better psychiatrist, so I got rediagnosed bipolar 1. I read my journal, saw I had delusions, and realized I need my medications. Six months later I asked the psychiatrist if he ever thinks in a different tone, he said "no". Suddenly I realized, I'm hallucinating. It took years for those to stop, I even passed a whole semester at college including a test based logic class while hallucinating. I went about my life as bipolar, attending a bipolar support group and speaking for the rights of bipolar people for several years. I told one of the members of the support group how grateful I was to be bipolar and not schizophrenic. One day a psychiatrist took a fresh look at my record and said I think you have schizoaffective disorder. She asked politely if it was okay to change my record and I was willing to accept it, it is just a label by then. A week after leaving the office I felt devestated, not much is different between having bipolar 1 and schizoaffective disorder, but I fell into a deep depression over it. So that is the story of one of my diagnoses. The other is alcoholism, but that one is pretty standard.


The longing for cuddles urges me on again as I sit listening to dirty poetry. Why do people write dirty poems? I feel so uncomfortable hearing it next to mom while being celibate. "Hobo Dick on fire" he screams the first line of his haiku as he does every week. It is actually a great haiku done by an educated writer. He says it twice to be sure, since it is a haiku. We go home. I read an article on celibacy. It says what I already know, adding most women are married by age 40. Will I always be alone if I stay celibate? I think more about the crushes I have currently and really consider them more like I did as a teenager. Yes, there is more free time and I feel closer to God. I don't even know if there is a God, but I have more time to meditate. I start to wonder what dating might be like, but I'm still angry and heart broken. I can't stop the angry fake texts to Karl. I was actually texting him not so long ago. I haven't forgiven him yet and I'll take it out on someone else. I don't know if I forgave Jay yet either. I don't have much of a sex drive, but when the thoughts are there it is hard to ignore and they do come up. It is soon time for sleep, the cuddle urge comes back. I grab a pillow, at least it keeps me warm. Another night alone. It's more peaceful than a fight with a lover. There is something about celibacy I love, but something odd and lonely too. I'm not meant to live this way forever, but for now it will do. I consider those crushes again as my intuition speaks, "wait, you have been celibate this long, he isn't the right one. Just keep waiting.". Wait?! I'm 34 and schizoaffective, who wants me? I know I can find men who want to use crazy girls for sex, they aren't rare, but who truly wants ME. "Let go of it all and breathe" I think none of it matters in the end. Time to sleep...


When you are in denial you will hear whatever keeps you in denial. Voices around you will lull you into a deep sleep. If sombody tries to wake you out of denial you will get angry with them.

A long time ago I became overweight. I was skinny before and just kept wearing the same clothes as they felt tighter. Family reassured me I am thin. One day I was confronted with my weight problem by my boyfriend and I felt angry and hurt. Since then I have accepted I need to lose weight and haven't been skinny for a long time, but I don't wear tight clothes anymore either (I wear flattering form fitting ones). Denial does this, we cannot do anything about a problem until we are aware there is a problem. Now I exercise and try to eat better, I haven't gone back to being skinny, but I haven't increased in weight either. I've accepted my weight as it is and it's okay now. If I was still in denial I could do nothing about it, I would continue to gain weight. I would continue to get angry when people brought the subject up. I'm also in denial of how bad this entry is and must stop writing. Thanks for reading!

Article on insight and schizophrenia

insight and schizophrenia I was curious how many other people in the schizophrenia spectrum realize they are having delusions and how this affects their lives. I'm glad to see I am not alone.



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