The Sorry State Of Mental Health Hospitals In America

mental hospital

It’s truly astounding just how quickly everything can become truly and utterly fucked up. If anyone is still reading this blog, they’ll have noticed that this is my first post in a very long time. At least it seems like a long time. Like ages. A lot has happened between the last post and this one and I’m trying to think of one part of it all that was good. I’m still alive so that’s good… I suppose. Anyway, I’ve been in what is called “crisis”. I’ve been doing everything I can to stay out of the fucking hospital where they put people that they simply don’t know what to do with. I’ve known people that have gone into those hospitals and I can say from personal observation and stories from those that have been in there that (a.) they don’t help anyone, much less “cure” them and (b.) people

The Mistake of Placing Anyone On A Pedestal

down from the pedastal

I attended a family reunion a few days ago and while it was nice to see and visit with people I don’t see very often, there was one conversation I had that left me angry and sad simultaneously. After the reunion and on the way back, there was a very near miss. One could almost say that it was a miracle that there wasn’t a crash involving the loss of lives… mine included. I don’t believe in miracles so I’ll put me being here and able to type this down to sheer, dumb luck. The combination of the upsetting conversation and the near miss caused me to reevaluate some things. The first thing I’ve done is made a very conscious decision to beware of placing anyone on a pedestal. I hadn’t even realized I’d been doing this for more than 30 years but I certainly realized it during the extremely

Religion, U.F.Os, and a Cheeto

platitudes

Earlier today I read an interesting blog post regarding whether or not “paganism” is dying. My initial thought was, “who cares?”. If people decide they can no longer reconcile adopted beliefs with the mundane and objective reality of day to day life then they are freed in my opinion. I feel the same about any other religious belief. If an individual abandons beliefs that no longer serve them, and in some cases become detrimental, then more power to them I say. I admit I have become extremely jaded when it comes to any sort of religious claims. As I’ve written many, many times I simply have not seen or read anything that is in any way convincing to me that they are anything more than the subjective experiences or thoughts regarding things supernatural. The fact that I’ve never seen or read anything convincing to my mind perturbs me… it makes

Bad Dreams, Religious Nonsense, and Loneliness

too many thoughts racing

Man, I’m really struggling here… I’ve got a million things on my mind and want to write about them all but every time I begin to type today I see what I’ve written and realize that it probably won’t make any sense at all to readers so I delete and start over. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve deleted and restarted on this post today. It’s extremely difficult to try to convey anything at all in a coherent manner when there are so many disparate topics running through my mind seemingly simultaneously. Religion, sleep, dreams, goals, loneliness: all of these things are on my mind today and I want to write about them all but I don’t want to bore you to tears or end up typing out a saga instead of a blog post. I’ll start with two at the same time since they are related anyway…
Sleep

Corrupt Cops and Planting Evidence

cop curruption

I was planning on writing about something else today, but this story came up in my news feed and I have to say a few things about it. The first thing I want to say is that this is no surprise whatsoever… it’s something I’ve already suspected for decades. What I’m referring to here is the cops getting caught by their own body cameras planting “evidence”. How stupid do you have to be to plant evidence or do anything else so incredibly illegal, immoral, cowardly, and dishonorable when you know your actions are being recorded?! I’ve already wrote about some of my own experiences with cops throughout my life so while this doesn’t surprise me it still disgusts me. With all the scrutiny cops are under these days one would expect them to change their behavior but that would be an unrealistic expectation because you can’t change the nature of

Insomnia… Another Fun Effect of Bipolar Disorder (but things could be worse)

never ask

Insomnia sucks. Last night I managed to get five hours of sleep and I woke feeling better than I have in weeks. That’s because for the last few weeks I’ve been experiencing insomnia to such a degree that I’m lucky if I get two or three hours of sleep. So, a full five hours felt pretty good. I go in cycles with insomnia. I know it has to do with the whole bipolar BS. The insomnia always comes when the depression is at its worst and it comes again when what I call the energy phase is peaking and lasts right through the rage phase. No amount of breath-counting or meditation works. The only thing that helps is being alone. If there are other people around I can’t sleep at all. What’s worse is that the lack of sleep makes everything seem worse and makes me feel physically bad as

I Really Need To Get Out Of Texas For Good!

Texas sucks

I’m 51 years old and I’ve been noticing a dramatic change in my thinking of late. I have become obsessed with how I want to spend the rest of my life, I find regret haunting me relentlessly, and my priorities have definitely changed. I don’t think it’s a midlife crisis for two reasons… the first being it’s a little late for that and the second being that I don’t find myself wanting to buy a fancy new car or wishing for a younger woman. I simply want to make some changes in my life that will make me a happier and better person. Finding a way back to New Mexico and staying there is my priority. As for the regret that has been relentlessly haunting me, well, there’s nothing to be done about that. On the minuscule and incredibly remote chance that the person involved in that particular regret ever

Depression and Rage: My Attempt To Describe My Bipolar Disorder

rage

I’ve written before that when I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder I wanted a second opinion. I got that second evaluation and opinion and it was the same except worse. They added “with psychotic features” to it. The “psychotic features” doesn’t mean like the movie Psycho. It just means that I’ve had times in the past where I’ve experienced auditory and visual hallucinations. I only remember one visual hallucination and even though I know it was a hallucination, the memory of what I saw seems as real as any of the other things I’ve seen that are real. That’s how powerful a hallucination can be. It occurred during a time of extreme distress in which different prescription drugs were being thrown at me. I think it was the drugs since I’ve not experienced any sort of hallucination since. The label/stigma aside, the two worst things about this disorder in my

Then There Was Silence

only silence

I’ve been thinking a lot about my aunt lately. The one I mentioned here. The one I watched die. She was a lifesaver for me during a period of my life in which I was getting into a lot of trouble. She took me to her farm and things rapidly got better for me. I wish I could talk with her now. I could use her advice right now. Out of all the people in my family… parents, sibling, uncles, aunts, grandparents… only she and my grandfather “got” me. Only they understood me. I could talk to them. I could tell them about things going on in my life without worry of getting a condescending lecture, judgmental looks, or simply walking out on me. When someone like that is no longer around when they’ve helped so much with their wisdom it truly leaves a void.
Then There Was Silence
I, along with

Lessons Learned From Hesitation

Never Hesitate

Every single time I’ve hesitated to act on an instinct or strong feeling to either do something or avoid doing something it turned out to be a disaster. All throughout my life it’s been that way. When I was younger, much of the hesitating to act stemmed directly from a misguided desire to make my parents proud of me. I’ve always wondered if that trait, to want to gain the approval of parents, is hardwired into us. If so, it’s clearly a major blunder of evolution. Especially when the parents and offspring couldn’t possibly be any different. Adding to that the fact that I’ve always been the “black sheep” of the family, the “ne’er-do-right”, and it’s little wonder that even when I did try to do something I thought would make the family proud it still turned out to be a complete disaster… mostly for me. Because I was acting