Plummeting.

I’m always interested to see what countries across the world view this blog and my amazement never ceases. I know many of the people who read me do not have a WordPress account but nonetheless thanks for reading and taking the time to stop by and see what the crazy American has to blabber on about today.

I’m still not satisfied.

I don’t know what’s going on with me anymore. There’s something that’s sucking the life out of me and it’s not school. I think my being “strong” has pushed me to a breaking point. The last time I was this bad, this unmotivated, this blank was when I was 17 and it was the last semester of high school. I got myself together that summer and blazed through the first year of college.

But I’m losing my ability to stay focused and to stay interested. You all know me, I find positivity in everything. I coach people to find positivity in everything. I’m actively enacting every single coping mechanism known to me to be able to hold myself together at the moment, and, like I said, I haven’t had to put so much effort into this in years. It genuinely scares me.

I have another interview tomorrow and somehow I have to keep this flattened demeanor from fucking it up. Somehow I have to gt out of bed and go to class tomorrow.

I like being alone but this is when I hate it. I’d like to have someone keep me company in my room or just take a walk with me or just sit somewhere with me. I’m a very simple person, I don’t need to go through a lot of things for me to feel content. Sitting on a log underneath an Oak listening to birds makes me content.

As for tonight . . .

I just can’t type anymore. It takes too much effort to think of words and that hurts too, because words are my only true friend.

A Closed Mouth Don’t Get Fed

There was one person in class tonight who didn’t talk.

. . .

. .

.

And it WASN’T ME, BITCHES!

I was pretty much forced to, but whatever, I did it and this time I had stuff written down and I probably still sounded ridiculous and you know what? I’m done caring how I sounded. The main focus is that I did it, I spoke, I gave my opinion, I did an analysis in words (partially) and even though I left out half of the analysis, I did something.

That’s an accomplishment for someone who rarely ever does so.

Even after I said my piece and the professor picked up another part of the story and said a few words that I didn’t cover, I kept thinking I was wrong in what I said just because he said something else about a different half of the story. That’s bad habit, you see? People think that’s their anxiety–it’s a result of being hyper-aware and anxious, yes, but it’s a bad habit. And bad habits can be broken with good habits. These are good things to recognize. Once I realized it, I kept telling myself in my head that yo, just because he also found something else in the story doesn’t mean you’re wrong and doesn’t mean you should be embarrassed that you didn’t say every little detail in the book. I mean, hell, I don’t even remember what I said: my memory is that blank when I’m talking in front of people. Basically my words have less than a tenth of a millisecond to form and get out of my mouth or else anxiety pounces on them and they never escape. So I talk fast and about whatever the fuck until I feel my mouth is dry enough to stop. Don’t know what I said, don’t know if it made sense, don’t know how many times I repeated myself; whatever. I talked, didn’t I? One step at a time, what do you people want from me?

Do you want me to talk or do you want me to analyze? Choose one, damnit.

So tonight was a major success. I’ve been worried about it since last week when I learned we’d be doing a Socratic seminar.

The reason I hated the ones in high school was because they gave each of us two note cards and said you were only allowed to talk twice. Each time you spoke, you had to toss a card in the middle of the circle and once both of your cards were in the circle, you were out. It was a way to try and force people into talking. Did I ever talk? Nope, not once. Another big middle finger to people who think quietness and introvertedness is a bad thing. It’s not. Fuck you.

Even this spellcheck thinks introvertedness means “disinterestedness”. I get “introvertedness” isn’t a word, but an introvert isn’t someone disinterested in things, it’s someone who is focused in their head and thinks quite a lot, perhaps better and longer than people who can’t seem to ever shut their fucking mouth.

So many anxiety plays a major part in my life and I think to an extent it always will. But I’m learning a lot. I’m learning I am the master, not he. Like I’ve mentioned in a past post: don’t play the victim card. I could blame every issue in my life on my mental health and I could blame all of my mental health on my past, and I could get away with it too, and people would feel sympathetic and look upon me with pity.They’d also probably get pretty annoyed. But I don’t want their pity and I don’t want their scrutiny. I want them to see how hard I have to fight  so they can see the struggle that exists. Once they see the struggle for what it is, terms like “lazy” won’t ever again describe a depressive disorder and people won’t confuse “shy” with social anxiety disorder.

The physical symptoms piss me off sometimes though. I get an insatiable urge to yawn. Does anyone else, or am I cast alone on a banana leaf raft in a raging ocean with that? I just keep yawning and yawning . . . people probably think wow, does she not sleep? Is she bored? Or I’ll get some weird air bubbles trapped in my throat muscles (I’m assuming because they spasm so much) and they kind of ricochet off my windpipe and make some weird internal gurgling noise, like your stomach is rumbling . . . but in your throat. Then I get the customary shakes, although they come off more like violent, brief Tourettes-type twitches. My face flushes, but not as often as it used too, and I break out in a cold sweat. It’s all a nasty experience that quits instantaneously once I’ve bypassed the anxious situation.

That level of heightened awareness is what causes my memory lapses. It’s surging through my brain and surging through my body and sometimes I feel like I can’t control it. You know, the common “your amygdala gets hijacked” sensation.

Everyone feels like they can’t control it but you know, like I said, honesty is the best policy and if you tell yourself that every day than you’ve been lying to yourself, my friend. There will always be ways for you to control your body. Even people with neurological disorders who learn coping mechanisms that ease their tension, their anxiety, and their stress gain better control over their disorders.

Don’t ever lie to yourself because you’ll start believing it.

I’ve been lying to myself before I even knew what lying meant.

Now I have to learn how not to lie.

I know that I read facial expressions differently than people. Hell, I thought an axe murderer was following me on his bike in the woods: it’s an understatement to say I exaggerate things. But I do. I exaggerate people and I exaggerate faces. I always see them negatively. I’ve known this for awhile now and I tend not to believe everything I see. If my brain tells me “that person is giving you a dirty look, they hate you”, well then I’m more inclined to believe it’s the opposite.

Maybe they are giving me a dirty look. But the point here is not everyone is. And that’s what I fail to see.

Not everyone has a sarcastic or disapproving tone in their voice, not everyone thinks what I say is stupid. And if my brain tells me that, well then liar, liar pants on fire, shut the fuck up; you’re not my sire.

Like my Rhyme? Yeah I made that shit up. *Brushes off shoulders*

And it’s not my sire, it’s not my king; my thoughts are independent of how my brain makes me feel. That’s one of the most important lesson I’ve learned so far in my short life. Once you can separate who you are and what you want from that evil thing that wants your soul for hire, than you’re on the right path. No one’s going to give you your life back, no one’s going to give you happiness, and a pill sure as hell ain’t going to do it, not to the extent you want it to. Take responsibility for who you are and what you think and admit that you have a problem.

Don’t admit that you’re helpless, admit that you have a problem.

Two very different things.

As for now, here’s a picture I took of a candle flame.

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You Are The Light In The Darkness Of Your Own Mind

Cookies Will Take Down Corporate

I woke up this morning craving cookies so I got a bag of cookies.

Just stuffed 650 calories down my throat in five minutes. New record.

If I wasn’t already bouncing in my seat, now I’m super-ultra-mega bouncing in my seat.

Fuck yeah!

Went to Rite Aid this morning with my mother, grabbed a bag of cookies and hugged them as I followed her to the back counter where the pharmacist stood. He gave us one of my dad’s new blood pressure medications, but someone had scribbled on the prescription note that the insurance wouldn’t pay for the blood pressure cuff.

Hm.

So let’s analyze this: if it’s one thing I get when I’m full on energy and full on cookies is Anti-Establishment. And usually for good reason. Sometimes I just like poking fun at idiots.

He gets his prescriptions free because he has no income. Hm . . . no income . . . hmmmmmmm . . . so you don’t have to pay for the three hundred dollar pills, but you will need to pay for the one hundred dollar blood pressure monitor out of your 0$ salary.

I guess there’s really nothing to analyze there. I’ll just say . . . there’s a whole other level of stupidity insurance companies are on that there’s no point in ever trying to get to their level. You don’t want to catch their stupid. It’s like the flu. Well, more like Invasion of the Body Snatchers. I love that movie.

Anyway, I’m just going to go on Amazon and pay for it. I mean, really. Amazon is going to take over the world one day, if they haven’t already. If I were google, I’d be worried. Amazon is going to start selling google online. You’ll be getting pieces of google delivered to you by drones via two-day Amazon prime. You just wait.

You hear about the guy who got bricks of heroin delivered to the prison yard with a drone? Yep, it’s starting.

That being said, if you want to make some good money really, really fast, I’d say work as an advertiser for a pharmaceutical company. I guess they call them “investigators”.

See, Big Bar Mean Good Happen. Yeah.  Yes Drug=Good. No Drug=Bad.

If you join their advisory board and educate other doctors on some specific drug you could make 1,000-2,000 dollars per talk. Do two a week and you can move out your mom’s basement in a month.

Not to mention you get to go to resorts and get “trained” on how to promote the drug. They give you pre-made powerpoint slides so you don’t ever forget what to talk about. Not to mention you get paid for that as well.

I wonder what happens if you do forget. What if you mention some of the fucked up things about the medication. I bet they have snipers pointed at your forehead from a far and as soon as a word slips out your mouth they make sure no other word will ever again come from your mouth. Then they Men-In-Black the group of doctors in the room with a little silver memory flash thing and it’s like it never happened.

Now, if you’re struggling for grant money, join as an investigator and they’ll sponsor you so the government doesn’t have to. The only catch is that somewhere in your little research you better show their drug works and that the side effects are minimal.

You better.

Could you imagine the kind of hit-men those companies can hire? They’d find you even if you decided to live in a hole in the ground under area 51 with all the alien hostages. You’ll be eating some nice hot Gorbagalogan soup made by Sir FlippyFlop from Pluto and some big pharma jerk will come and blow your head off.

I’m sure Sir FlippyFlop would spit his acid saliva all over the hit-man’s face but who cares, you’re already dead, that won’t make a difference.

You’re better off just performing the TWO CLINICAL TRIALS the FDA requires you do to show the drug is more effective than a placebo. Just grab thirty people or so and, you know, make sure the new antidepressant stops them from killing themselves in the few weeks or so you observe them. That means it works. Legally, it works.

I agree with the M.D who wrote this article: Big Pharma sponsoring their own clinical trials for their own drug is more ignorant than chucking a fish at an oak tree and then shouting over it’s flopping body to climb up the trunk. These people are making BILLIONS OF DOLLARS. They aren’t going to stop just because one of their drugs show unsightly and possibly fatal side effects.

If you don’t have insurance and you go and try and pay for an anti-psychotic, I’m sure you’ll stagger from the price. Now just imagine a thousand of those being sold. A hundred thousand. A million. Think of that profit.

We all know the Paxil studies are being retracted right as you read this, we all know Risperdal has also been under fire for years, but if it’s happening to these two I’d say it’s fair to say it’ll happen to many others in the future.

Yes, I talk a lot of shit about these people because they deserve it. I have nothing against their medications, I have everything against them. If you’re a psych student and want to do a case study on Anti-Social Personality, start doing some research on corporate leaders, you’ll get everything you need. Their charismatic, charming, most often good looking (the young ones) but they won’t show remorse for the people’s lives they’ve screwed over, they won’t think about it either. Their goal will be selfish and they certainly won’t see a problem with it. You’ll swear up and down they’re one of the best people you’ve ever met in your life until you find out how many attempted murder charges they should have on their record.

It doesn’t have to be Big Pharma corporate leaders, pick any corporate leader! They’re all crazy! If the world is going to stigmatize anyone under the label “insane” it needs to be them, not the rest of us.

I’m not focusing on a lot of the good aspects of some companies because there’s no need to romanticize this shit. If you don’t like reading the truth then don’t read it.

It’s never the medication, it’s always the companies. I know when I talk so much shit about all of this people tend to feel attacked, as if I’m looking down at them for ingesting the little money making pills these companies shit out, but it really has nothing to do with the people who take them either. The people who take them are doing so for a reason; either they feel better taking them or their doctors believe they should, or it keeps them in contact with reality. And that’s a good thing.

Doesn’t mean people aren’t lied to about their effectiveness.

Doesn’t mean they don’t use medication withdrawal as an excuse to keep people on the medication. No shit you’re going to feel more depressed (the majority of the time) after you get off an anti-depressant. That doesn’t mean you need the medication to not be depressed. No shit you’re going to (the majority of the time) dive right back into psychosis after an Anti-psychotic. That has to do with your brain readjusting itself. (Doesn’t mean go off your medication, either. I’m just saying, it’s not a surprise these things happen).

Doesn’t mean doctors aren’t brainwashed into selling them. I don’t call them recommendations, I call them sales because that’s what has happened to this industry. Doctors are salesmen.

It doesn’t make any of this your fault. I don’t blame anyone who takes them. I blame the people who make them. I blame the researchers so desperate for grant money that they’re kissing the ass of these companies and putting out bullshit data. And I blame the companies for thinking they could get away with ruining people’s lives and never having to pay for it.

I could sue them for a billion dollars and win the case and not be satisfied. If I had enough power through the courts to expose one of them and utterly destroy their livelihood, I’d be high for months off my own self-satisfaction.

And you know what? I wouldn’t regret a thing.

And don’t give me that “oh, they have families too” bullshit.

Yeah, they also have 30 billion dollars. You won’t be seeing them in the welfare line any time soon.

I don’t know, maybe it’s the cookies talking.