Please Invalidate Me

My last visit to the psych nurse that I’ve been appointed to has just been enough. Admittedly, I was under the influence of Valium, which helps me take the edge off my anxiety and gifts (Hell yes, I know I typed “gifts”. Tiny ones indeed!) me the ability to carry out errands and attend appointments. However, those little pink pills have a dulling effect on me. As though life is occurring in real time around me, but I personally feel “off” in my time in relation to the present.

For example, I’m listening and interacting in a active conversation but sometimes things feel very sped up and the Valium is slowing my thought process to be able to consume what the other person had said and be able to respond within a reasonable time period. So, I’ll just refer to it for now as my “V” delay. I tell my psych nurse that “no” I have not yet received the Geodon and I had communicated with my pharmacy and what not.

She asks, “Did you call Joann?” (The psych nurse’s asst.) I look at her like WTF? I say “NO. I didn’t.” I didn’t elaborate about why should I call someone else or why didn’t I. I get fucking tired of playing phone tag in regards to my medications and for some reason, on that visit, the Geodon went right through and my insurance covered it. We move on quickly to the subject that I’ve been under a lot of stress recently due to my neighbor’s kids and the adults lack of supervision of the said kids.

I explained that things had escalated between the neighbors and myself and my partner as we tried to tell them what their kids were doing to intimidate and be generally aggressive to myself and my companion animal. There really was no “discussion” between the neighbors and us as the female adult comes out yelling and interrupting in her chador and her kids look over at us like we killed their gold fish.

It was extremely hard for me to keep my composure because I suffer from PTSD and don’t respond well to anyone yelling or acting aggressive towards me. I’d had enough of the neighbors and had to leave for our apartment to control myself. The male adult had the audacity to go and have a sit down with the upper management of the leasing company and told the assets manager that we scared their children so much that they cried for the rest of the night and they didn’t feel safe with my partner doing work orders anymore in their apartment as he’s the maintenance supervisor of the property. The reality of the situation was, I watched the kid’s faces as their mother came out yelling at us and they looked crestfallen and we passed by later walking my companion dog and the kids were out still playing and very jovial as they were yelling at my companion dog.

So, the neighbors are stirring around a shit stew of lies and fabrications and have gone as far as playing the victim stance to have upper management favor them. I have to hand it to them, they should know how to deceive the best as they are the masters of it. After a short synopsis to my psych nurse, I also add that I already have issues surrounding going outside as it is and now, all this compounds things.

She goes on about how blah,,,Oh, yeah I was still listening. She drops a psych term that I honestly forgot because of the fucking Valium and I was trying to go back mentally and retrieve the term because I can sometimes do that pretty quick if nothing’s in my system slowing me down. But, here we go. Most important things to remember. Her parting words for me until 6 weeks from that session.

“Sometimes we make things a bigger deal than the actual issue because we’re constantly being forced to deal with it.” she says about my issues at hand. Okay, notice her language. “We, we’re.” So as to not place blame and maintain neutrality. I nod my head as I mull over what she said as it made slight sense but then I ruminated further. I started thinking well, how does a person with social anxiety just make themselves get over that omnipotent and oppressive anxiety? They don’t and I don’t.

I have to medicate myself to do what “normal” well adjusted people do day in and day out. Just going to the local grocery store is a anxiety producing mess! See, as a patient, you view the people you encounter in the mental health field as part of your support system. It’s a lot like Russian roulette that ideology. Be damned aware that there’s a valid reason medicine is referred to as “practicing” in many fields. Experimentation and studies are constantly being conducted making the information that some of the professionals you encounter are not entirely up to date, sometimes antiquated and all the time needing to be altered to suit you as an individual.

That being stated, I also know that professionals are always attending new workshops and learning about new drugs and techniques. I’m constantly telling myself, reminding myself. Mentally pinching myself, to be my own advocate! I won’t say it can’t be done, but it’s terribly hard when you deal with that every time you visit the place you receive your medication management and therapy and they’re supposed to be on your team but you leave feeling like if you had stayed in bed that you would’ve been better damned off!

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Take Some Credit

HClabel

Frankly, I’m an atheist and it’s because of my life experiences overall, that I’ve arrived at my ideologies surrounding any and all religion. I’m not writing this to debate or argue with anyone on the subject of religion. These are my established beliefs and are not subject to debate as I refuse to debate over those things I don’t believe in. A lot of you maybe familiar with the poem, “Footprints in the Sand.” You know, how when times were so hard for you, it was me (“god”) that picked you up and carried you and that’s why there are only one set of footprints to be found left behind in the sand.

I was told when I was a child, that if I prayed, not only for myself but for others first and also admitted my (and were honestly sorry for them) sins, that my prayers would be answered. I prayed a lot. I prayed a lot for everyone else first, like the kids in Ethiopia that I would see on TV with swollen bellies and crusted faces. I would pray for everyone else but me, first. Than, I would usually pray for a real pony or horse and call it a night. I was severely sexually abused from whenever I could begin to remember until the age of 7 by my step-father that had adopted me when I was six months old.

During these times that he was abusing me and the weight of his grown body was bearing down against me and I was enduring the worse pain of my life, I would scream and cry. To no avail. I started to pray too. I prayed incessantly to myself and “god” above, so hopeful my child prayers were heard. I had prayed so much that I stopped and never uttered another word to “god.” I was forsaken and I knew it at such a young age. I knew what that word meant at such a young age because it was through those times of abuse and trauma that I knew I was given up on.

My step-mother even caught my step-father abusing me as she began to descend the steps to the ground level of the house. I couldn’t move but all I could see as I looked up to see her, was her turn her back and ascend back to the top level of the house and all she did was go back to bed. At a very young age, I knew betrayal intimately as I would come to know vengeance, retribution and anger. My step-mother was a coward and rat of the worse kind and I never forgave her for betraying me nor all the violence and abuse she doled out on me until I finally left her house as I was tentatively scheduled to be kicked out when I graduated high school anyhow, so good riddance.

Take some credit! Through the shit storm that was my life, it was me, that weathered every storm over again only to get through another one. It’s been the same for you. You got yourself through the hell of life too. I never once gave up on myself. I’ve had the lowest of lows when I didn’t want to be alive anymore, but it was the will to survive that pulled me through. It was my voice telling me, “How fucking dare, you let the scum of the earth keep you down for so long to submit to a defeatist way of thinking! You always had the strength you needed and the proof of it all remains right in front of you, because here you are still standing. Still ready for the next battle because life is made of both the light and the dark.”

My life did a significant 360 when I was ‘tween 15 & 16 years old. I was enduring bullies at school, my step-mother’s boyfriend was putting his hands on me whenever he got the chance. I was a 120 pound girl that was fucking tired of being pushed around and used as a punching bag. I had a mental shift. I began to gain the courage to fight back and I lost the fear that held me back and was keeping me stuck in the victim role.

I began to attend punk rock shows and then hardcore and the message behind the music and the empowerment I felt was a very positive reinforcement for me in my life at the time. A lot of people talk shit that they don’t know about. I was attending shows in the mid-90’s and it was obviously largely male dominated, but I grew up also fighting and playing with males ever since I was very small , so it was like everything was coming full circle for me, in a literal sense.

There were brutal and chaotic shows, that to just be on the dance floor would most likely get you kicked in the head. I looked at the people of the punk and hardcore subculture as my type of people. A lot of those people were not wealthy, knew hardships, abuse, and had been knocked down more than once in life. I liked those that were like me. Legit, had nothing to prove, and only had love for the music and not fashion. I took what I learned from the hardcore lifestyle and applied it to my life and embraced it tightly against my heart.

I began to start to personally take on every bully that even stepped to me and also other bullies that I would see pressing others. When my step-mother’s boyfriend put his hands on me, I fought him the best I could. The most empowering thing I’ve felt in my life, was to lose that fear of someone putting their hands on you. What I learned, was to tap into that deep seated anger and resentment I will wholly and always own and unleash it against my enemy. I use my hate and anger at my discretion and it burns within me like a infernal flame that can never be extinguished.

I’ve had therapists discredit my resolve to not relinquish my anger. They say, that it’s “energy zapping” or just negative energy altogether. FUCK THEM! This is what I say to them. This is what I say to all of your therapists too! The only reason that I am still alive today, is due to my anger and hate. I have many mental illnesses and PTSD is one of them. I’ve never been a soldier, but I’ve fought my whole life and struggled.

I will say this to those whom have been soldiers, never let your anger and hate die. You survived for a reason. If you lost your friends, you must live your life in memory of them. This is your legacy and the greatest gift you have to give to those that gave all. Their sacrifices are your’s too. So, now it is for them and yourself that you have the greatest reason to live and continue to be the warrior you still are.

Everyone’s had their own battles and lived their own wars. It’s how we come out in the end that matters. WE are not just survivors. We are all warriors for fighting day in and day out. Your struggle is unique to you and I dare not invalidate your experiences. The same goes for my own struggles. I take credit for myself. I take credit for becoming the person I am today despite all those people that hurt me so much. I would at the same time, like to thank each and every one of those assholes because, had you not made things so terrible for me, I wouldn’t be nearly as battle hardened and unfazed by those of a softer existence that have tried to press me. Take credit for your accomplishments!