Clarifying on The Ruffling

Duuuuuuuude.

Yeah, left on quite the high horse, didn’t I?  And then just poofed into the shadows for a while.  ::sighs::

Ok, gonna be quick on that, because there’s other shit I want to get to, but this has to be said first:

Apparently, I wasn’t just ruffling feathers….my own feathers had been seriously ruffled as well.  And I kind of went on a rant-page there.   

Sure, some of it, the Commenter did say.  But a lot of it she didn’t.  Quite a bit of it, actually, is more towards what society as a whole pushes mentally ill individuals into bad situations.  So yeah, I was a bit of the asshole there, not clarifying what She said, and what was just full blown rant on my part.  I apologize for that.

I did have another Commenter inquire as to why I refer to myself as crazy or to the group of Neuro-Divergent individuals as “crazies”, in a private note.  I explained to her it was kind of an empowering move, taking that term back.  Because, by society’s standard, I’m not Neuro-Typical, there for I’m “crazy”.  But it’s kind of like, taking that term back from the oppressor and making it a term of power.  ::shrugs::  I don’t know how to better explain it than that.  So yeah, while I may be ok with calling myself crazy, not all Neuro-Divergent individuals are.  And I’m only ok with it in certain situations.  So basically, it’s ok for me to call myself that, but you have to be really careful calling ME that as an outsider. 

It’s been really kind of awesome to have all the supportive notes.  And all the tips people have offered, should I hit a breaking point.  Like, my husband can call 911 and request EMTs and specially request NO cops be sent.  Thankfully, we do live really close to a hospital (like 4 blocks, I think), so if shit did go down, we could get there swiftly.

And the Original Commenter did clarify a lot of her original points, so I understand where she’s coming from.  I really think a lot of it was a breakdown in communication.  I’ve elected to make her original comments private because I’m seriously not trying to start a war here and don’t want anyone feeling like they need to go after her to protect me.  Trust me, I’ve got more than enough fight in me right now.  ::laughs::

Mental health, is and will always be, a hot button topic for me because it is something that effects every aspect of my life. 

Well, this certainly ended up being longer than I had anticipated, so the entry I really wanted to write will have to be written in another one.  ::smiles::  Hopefully, it won’t take me another 10 days or so to actually WRITE it.  ::laughs:: 

Yeah, that whole plan of writing 100 words a day for the month of September just did NOT work out at all for me. 

Ruffling Feathers

I know I may end up ruffling some feathers with this one, so, be forewarned. 

Seems I ruffled a few feathers in my previous post about making plans on what to do in the end of a mental crisis/break down on my part and me NOT wanting my husband to call the cops.  You know, no.  I’m not sugaring a damn thing.

Me flat out telling my husband, under NO circumstances, to call the cops if I’m in a mental crisis because I’m absolutely terrified that there is a damn good chance I could wind up dead from that encounter alone. 

Am I saying that the police would specifically show up to kill me?  No.  What I am saying is that they have zero training, and therefore ZERO REASON to show up on psych calls.  Period.  Because, as police show us time and time again, they have no clue how to properly deescalate a situation in a manner that keeps everyone safe.  They are quite of the shoot first, shoot often, and don’t ask any questions mentality right now.

Am I saying there are no good cops?  No, I’m not saying that at all.  But, those tend to be few and far in between.  And honestly?  I’m not willing to put my life on the line on the off chance that I MAY get a good cop. 

A commenter pointed out that in her time as a psych nurse, that the psych patients, even in the middle of a mental crisis/break down, are aware of their actions and don’t care about the consequences.  Well, that is partially true.  Even in my darkest and craziest times, when I’ve had hallucinations (which, thankfully, have been very few) or in the middle of a serious manic episode, yes.  I am aware that my hallucinations or my manic beliefs are not “real” in the traditional sense.  But it doesn’t mean they have any less impact on ME.  Yes, I know the chances of someone grabbing me out on the street is very low, but in the middle of a manic high, with anxiety blasting at a full 10, I am still paranoid beyond belief and utterly TERRIFIED that this will happen to me.  And to make matters worse…I KNOW that I’m being irrational.  I know that the voice(s) aren’t real, that they are lying or making shit up, or that the things I’m seeing are REAL.  But it feels like I’m being held hostage inside my own head and am being forced to go along on this damn joy ride that I have zero control over.

As for the consequences?  Yeah, I have to deal with the fall out once I return to my rational state of mind.  I can’t call my credit card company and say “Oops, I was manic there for a week, can you just forgive that $10,000 of charges I put on my card during that time?”  Yeah, they would laugh me off the damn phone.  No, instead, I have to pay off all of that debt.  I have to deal with the speeding tickets I’ve gotten.  I have to deal with any and all shit I’ve said and done and put my loved ones through during my irrational times.  And some?  Some have had enough and have walked away.  And you know what?  I don’t blame them one bit.  Hell, if I could walk away from this mind of mine, I would have done it ages ago.

So I’m supposed to what?  Feel sorry for the people who have to deal with us crazies?  The ones who CHOSE to be psych nurses, and psych doctors, and EMTs, and police officers, because we crazies can be so mean to them?  Fuck, try living in MY HEAD for one fucking month and come back and tell me how bad THEY have it.  They at least CHOSE to work with us.  They can CHOOSE to do something else.  I can’t CHOOSE not to be crazy.  I can’t CHOOSE not to have depression or suicidal idealization, or manic episodes, or my time to time hallucinations or my urges for non-suicidal self-injury.  Trust me, if it was a CHOICE, I sure as shit wouldn’t have selected this option because this option SUCKS.

Even with medication, I’m still struggling.  I’ve been playing medication roulette for decades now.  I’ve found ones that make me a complete zombie.  I’ve found ones that make me full blown manic.  I’ve found ones that I’m allergic to.  I’ve found ones that amplified my hallucinations.  I’ve found ones that basically gave me ADHD.  I’ve found ones that have made me SEVERELY depressed.  Not to mention that this shit all costs me thousands and thousands and thousands of dollars.  I don’t even want to know what this would have cost me if I didn’t have insurance. 

And that pisses me off as well.  People bitch and complain about how us crazies don’t comply with our medication or our therapy, but never stop to ask us WHY.  Most of the time, it’s because WE CAN’T FUCKING AFFORD IT.  If I didn’t have health insurance, there is NO WAY I could afford my medication.  And I’m on GENERIC meds.  Not even fancy, name-brand stuff.  But just one of my meds – a one month supply is like $370.  I don’t remember what the other one would cost me without insurance.  And then there’s my thyroid medication and the migraine medications I take as well.  So yeah, how would I be able to afford to comply with my medications, plus do therapy plus pay for a place to live and food and living expenses and all of that as well.  That shit adds up very quickly.  Is it any surprise so many of us with mental issues wind up on the streets and/or self-medicating with drugs or alcohol?  And I haven’t even added in therapy or psychiatrists to the equation yet.  ::shakes her head::

Hard Talks

I had a completely different blog post in mind (started this on September 11th), but then I read this news article about how 4 Houston cops have been fired due to them shooting a man TWENTY-ONE times on the GROUND who was having a mental crisis. That hits too close to home on so many levels.

I’ve had the Hard Talk with my husband about my own mental health struggles. That if things get bad, to please, please, please, do NOT call the cops. Because chances are, getting cops involved will wind up getting me seriously hurt and/or killed. And that’s exactly what happened to Nicolas Chavez. He was having a mental crisis (suicidal behavior), and officers were called because he was running in the streets and had a piece of metal he was cutting himself with.

Yeah, I made the mistake of watching the news clip of the whole situation, which didn’t show the extremely graphic parts. But it showed more than enough. And that sent me into a really bad mental space, that I’m just now clawing my way out of.

This shit legit scares me. because that’s the same manner my “insanity” tends to manifest.

I posted the following (along with the link to the news article) on my Facebook page:

This is why I have the hard talks with my husband about what to do and what NOT to do; who to call and who NOT to call if I ever become mentally unstable.

Because, let’s face it, with my brain chemistry, it’s just a matter of WHEN. Not IF. WHEN I will have a break-down.

I’ve told him, please, for the love of god, do NOT call the police.
And this article demonstrates why. Plus there’s the one where the officers were called to help a woman with her autistic son in Utah and they shot him as well. I think the kid is alive?

But yeah, this just reminds me that I really need to put together a list of contact information for Mental Health resources for the area to have on hand, should we ever have the need for it.

I’ve already told my husband that I will talk to him if I start seeing signs of me going down that path. And I have a number of friends that I can reach out to as well. I’ve also promised my husband that if I’m starting down that path, that I would bring him the handgun I have in my room, just in case. I don’t think I would ever use a gun to commit suicide, but I’d rather not run that risk.

Oils and Stones

I mailed out 6 of the oils today.  And I delivered Hazel’s to her at the witchy store she’s working at.   

I hate how small Pagan stores typically are.  And then of course, there is SO MUCH stuff in them, that you get almost claustrophobic inside them.  And then there was also a ton of people as well.  ::shakes her head::  Yeah, not a fan of that.  BUT, a cool store over all, and fairly close.  Plus, they have their own Crystal Oracle deck that they produced that you can buy the cards individually, so of course I had to check that out and pick a few of those up.  ::chuckles::  And now I have created a tracker in my Bullet Journal that lists all 124 cards they currently offer because I’m totally going to buy each and every single one of them.  Just not all at once.  This way, I can keep track of which ones I already have so I don’t end up buying duplicates.  I’ll probably put another tracker in my working grimoire as well. 

And, because we all know what a crystal whore I am…I picked up three crystals while I was there.  I bought green obsidian, a GORGEOUS piece of astrophyllite (seriously, it has the most insane flash for a small tumbled piece), and a lepidolite palm stone.  I wish the store wasn’t as busy, so I could have at least chatted a little bit with Hazel, but it was awesome to see her really in her element.  She’s really found her calling and I love that for her.