Thursday, November 23, 2006


11/23/06—Thanksgiving Day, and I have to struggle to be thankful.  I’m fighting a very real depression as I try to get over an illness (my allergies and asthma has resurfaced for the first time in years), try to get over the financial and emotionally devastating impact of my recent involuntary psychiatric hospitalization, as well as deal with a whole host of negative issues from unemployment to legal crisis.

     I went to Eucharist at All-Angels church last night, not so much as because I am depressed as because the intensity of my personal prayer and yearning is so great that it needs to be relieved by community worship.  I had decided that I needed Eucharist after a dream in which my father was driving me around and agreed to wait while I went to get breakfast.  But I didn’t like their ready to go breakfast so I made myself a huge “cafeteria” burrito, but then when I wanted to pay for it, they wanted 63 dollars for it, so I told them to keep it, and woke up hungry (I wake up hungry a lot because I’m doing serious dieting).  I interpret the dream to mean the SLI and Opus Dei, who I identify as abusive patriarchal authority, just like my father, are trying to feed me food I find inedible or overpriced.  I decided that the dream was telling me I needed spiritual sustenance, but because of the abuse I have received at the hands of the Roman Catholic community, I will not return there.  The SLI and Opus Dei probably think they have got an angle on me, but they are so wrong.  They have destroyed my dignity as a child of God and turned me into a thing, and while I cannot prevent them from wreaking their suffering upon me, I will no longer be a willing participant in their machinations.  And I certainly will not identify myself as one of them, either now, or ever in the future.  I don’t believe in spiritual conversion through abuse andpower tripping, ever, under any circumstance, and I will not identify with any religious community that does that, and the fact that Roman Catholicism is so vulnerable to that is their serious sin, and I just want to be separated forever from that worldview. 

    I don’t know that I want to be identified as an Episcopalian either, though there is much that is attractive about their community—sacramental, but more open and inclusive, and certainly more gay-friendly than Catholicism (for I intend to be a sexually active lesbian as soon as I escape the repression from the religious right, and I am free to be me).  I just want to be a faithful Christian layperson, and not really closely affiliated with any denomination.  It did help though, to go to church.  The homily was from the gospel, “behold the lilies of the field.”  The first time I really prayed that gospel, I was 19 years and flat busted broke.  My family had sent me money to join them in California because a promising summer job in Memphis TN, had netted me $60.00.  I knew I wasn’t going back to Vanderbilt, and I had no idea what my future held; for that matter I had no idea who I was.  I was at the very beginning of my year I now know as my Post-Adolescent Identity Crisis, and it was only my father’s death that resolved that.   So I was even more vulnerable than I am now, when I’m much more sure of who I am and have a good idea about the possibilities for the future, both hopeful and scary.  I just need this surrogate patriarchal father who has put their hooks into me to die a natural death (or maybe I have to kill them).  One thing is for sure---my declaration of independence from them has no effect whatsoever.  I am not a free person to them.  I am a thing to be used for their purposes and end.  So I have to seek my sustenance where I can until I can break free, and All-Angels seems to be the most promising place for that.  As the priest (a woman, I might add), preached, lilies are nothing but dead pulpy masses on the ground this time of year, and as such are a symbol of hope.  I feel like a pulpy dead mass, but my faith leads me to hope.  I just have to hold on to this hope during these long days of unemployment and intense prayer.m  God has a plan for me.  It will come when it comes.<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Realization of being Intersexed:Part I

11.19.06--As you probably can tell, I feel a lot better.  Hopefully, I will feel well enough to continue with part II later this week

    There is an emerging inner spiritual life, but I am very wary of being misunderstood, by both friends and enemies, and since I still feel very weak and subdued, I prefer to keep this to myself for now.  But that is OK, because there is plenty to write about, even with that on hold.  I am strongly centered, not because of the drugs I have been forced to take, but because I am now off of them.  All of the craziness I was experiencing before was caused by a desperate need to escape the drugs.  I think it also helps that my mom lived with me for two weeks.  We don’t have much in common, but I always am much more centered and productive when I live with someone else.  I don’t like living alone, at all—so much so that I would prefer to live with an incompatible roommate, rather than alone.  But that is not an option right now, so I have to struggle to hold onto the centeredness. despite the very real loneliness that I feel right now.

     Still, there is good news. I am happy because I am losing a little bit of weight—in all the wrong places, but I’ll take it!  I’m happy too, because whatever is going on with me hormonally seems to be back on its normal course (before TPTB started experimenting with drugs on me).  My last period was the 20th and around the 11th and 12th, I experienced the “PMS bloat.”  Since my period is normally on a 3 week cycle, this was right on time.  The problem has been that for the past year and a half, this bloat lasts for days and even weeks at a time, and while it lasts, I am miserable.  I retain fluid, my digestion practically stops, I become more susceptible to gaining lasting weight, and the bloat makes me look pregnant.  But yesterday I woke up with the “PMS” symptoms and bloat gone.  I even had a little bit of spotty underwear this morning, and a couple days later my period finally came.  I will miss my periods when they leave me for good.  They are the foundation of my identity as a woman, which brings me to another sensitive topic that I have been avoiding—the recent revelation that I am a “true hermaphrodite,” or intersexed.  I was pretty upset at first, but now I am dealing with it just fine in my mind, but it is so hard to put it in writing, partly because it is so complicated.


    I don’t feel like a freak of nature, but quite honestly I am.  Outwardly, including genitally, I have all the component pieces of a woman, but chromosomally I am male, and I have testicles inside my abdominal cavity.  As usual, nobody told me.  I had to figure it out on my own.  I am so tired of this.  I long for someone to talk to, truthfully, on the real.  I’m so tired of being lied to.  But that is not where I am at today, so I have to

struggle to be honest and real and truthful, on my own, and on paper, not just in my head.


The revelation must have been an even bigger shock to the “religious right” element (most notably the Spiritual Life Institute and Opus Dei), of the triad which comprises TPTB.  After all, they are the ones who initially impugned my psychological health, not from any true desire for holistic healing on my behalf, but merely because they won’t accept my homosexual orientation as natural or healthy.  That is their stupidity and shortcoming, and I no longer have any desire to even dialogue with them, but I wish I could have seen their faces when they learned.  I think I would have laughed until I cried.  And I would have cried, because of the years of injustice and suffering I have endured at their hands while they try to shock me into conversion to their constricted model of normality.  I was in jail (I spent six months there) when they first gave me the House, Person, Tree test.


      My guard was totally on high alert around the woman who administered the test.  My intuition told me not to trust her or the process at all, but I complied fully.  When the psych got all excited over the naked pictures of the Person (man and woman), I knew I had to investigate it further myself when I could, even though it was months later.  I learned from my investigation that Person pictures are usually drawn with clothes, and that females drawn with jewelry were usually drawn by men seeking transgender operations into females; i.e., men who felt like they were really women, and who wanted to become women.  I had drawn my female with lots of jewelry.  At the time I realized that I was a little bit deviant from the norm, but surely, I thought, anyone who really knew me, would know that my psychological makeup was much more evidently within the norm than deviant.  But for all that I have shared more information about myself to the religious right, both through the SLI and through counseling with DeBlassie, it’s clear to me those people never knew me at all.  They only saw me through a filter of what they wanted me to be, and I spent too many years of my life, hating myself and trying to warp myself intotheir idealized picture of what a female should be.  And then, irony of ironies, I’m not a female at all!  Of course, I drew the picture like a man who feels himself to be really a woman, because fundamentally that is exactly what I am!


     I have the body of a woman, I look like a woman, and I have been socialized as a woman, but really I am not a woman, nor am I really a man.  That is the hardest part of the discovery---that I belong to this little tiny minority of humanity called intersexed, and yet so much of what I know and predicate about the human condition is based on a binary dualism of sex and gender that I completely elude.  I am both male and female by physiological determinants—and yet I am neither.  I was not accorded masculine privilege by my culture, but neither do I think that I have what most females have to help them compensate for their traditionally subordinate position in society—namely, the ability to be a mother.  I have the physical wherewithal to be a mother.  I just don’t want to be one.  I’ve always told people, quite truthfully, “I don’t want to be a mother; I want to be a father.


     However, it is in the realm of the psychological that I feel most at a loss for understanding.  I always knew that the object of my childish oedipal attraction was my mother.  I thought that was why I was lesbian.  Now I have to say that from a psycho-sexual perspective, I’m a “straight” male.  And let me not forget all the Jungian books I have read on the feminine.  As a young woman I had to read books on the female psyche — I didn’t have an inner psychic template to guide me.  No wonder why I am a “double anima” picking up projections from both men and women.  No wonder why I feel so drained, frustrated, and angry when men insist on projecting onto me (and I got to say men are much worse at projection than women, especially celibates).  I don’t have the psychic receptivity to accept and nurture their projections, not because of any immaturity or negativity on my part, but because essentially my primordial psyche is masculine.


     Or is it?  I think it is.  I say that because in my dreams, my self that appears as a young child is always a boy.   Then there was the dream I had as a teenager.  In it, I saw a teenage male (naked, with full genitalia, and he was “hung”), and in my dream I saw how it was possible for him to get pregnant (it was complicated and involved props).  But when I woke up, I knew in my gut that now I could get pregnant, even though I had been menstruating for about 3 years at the time of the dream. It was the memory of the dream that enabled me to accept my hermaphroditic reality when my psychic intuition told me the truth.  All of my years of dream interpretation, and everything is all screwed up now.  What is animus?  What is anima? What is self? (that is, in my dreams; in my waking life I know who I am).


     First of all, I am intersexed—my sexuality, and quite probably my psyche fall in an indeterminate third category between, and yet incorporating both male and female, of which very little is known or understood.  I don’t know that I will come to understand it in my lifetime, but I can hope that my writing will help myself and otherselucidate more fully this third state.


   I do know that my gender is completely and unequivocally female, most of all because that is the way I experience my body.  When you menstruate monthly, or as has happened with me, bi-weekly, it’s kind of difficult to maintain that you are male.   One of Ursula Leguin’s novels is about a world made up of intersexed true hermaphrodites.  The characters have the capacity to be either sex, and can literally choose and change their sex at will, so that for instance, they could be mother of one child and father of another.  I wish I had had that option available to me.  For I think I would have liked to experience at least part of my life as the male gender.  Maybe that is because growing up female in a misogynistic home and patriarchal culture was so hateful to me, but I think part of me longs to be masculine, just as part of me longs to be feminine.  I think, despite my difficulties, I made the right choice to adapt my self-identity as much as possible to my somatic and socially given realities.


     I choose to be a lesbian.  Psychically, maybe I am a straight male, but just like I choose to be female, in accordance with my body and social dictum, so do I choose to be sexually oriented to other women in accordance with my desire and preference.  I love the way women feel, the way they smell, and the way they taste.  I like the way I feel more feminine inside when I am flirting with, or engaged in a sexual relationship with one.  Men never make me feel more feminine inside, even when I’m sex-role playing games with them (which I admit on occasion I do, just because it’s easier to function in society playing social roles than to be completely truthful).  The truth is that I don’t feel inferior to men, even though I indulge them and play it that way on occasion, but I do feel that women have a power over me that makes me feel both a little uncomfortable and vindicated at the same time, and that is why I am so attracted by them.


Saturday, November 18, 2006



Well, my recovery from this sinus/cold congestion has been arrested by the involuntary doping.  Yesterday evening, while running my space heater in my room, I noticed that I was coughing and draining uncontrollably.  So I got up and realized that I was being doped again, probably on speed, and that the airborne irritants were causing the drainage  Suspecting the space heater, I went to bed with no heat, and now this morning, I am sicker than ever.  I feel feverish and my right ear is all clogged up.  I'm miserable.  All I want to do is lay in bed, but Saturday morning yoga is the most mellow and restorative of yoga classes.  If I can force myself to go, I might feel better.  I need to lose weight.  The more I do, the more calories I burn.  So help me God to go.


Friday, November 17, 2006

In Despair over being Doped Up Again

11.17.06--I was trying to write on difficult topics but I'm being doped with psychotropic drugs again.  Right now I can barely walk or type, my arms and legs are so heavy.  The first indication was a headache.  I thought I would try to work out the headache by going to the gym and working out, but as I drove to the gym, I realized how seriously autistic I was.  These dumb fucks. Don't they realize what a scary thing it is to be driving and realize you are autistic?  I had a terrible workout, forcing myself to do cardio for 30 minutes with heavy as lead legs.  I'm tired of fighting. My body can't handle it anymore.  It is too weak.  I'm just going to lay down.  I am in despair but nothing i say or do matters.  My body is just experimental fodder to these bastards.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Broken Down Body

11.15.06--Well, my body has utterly collapsed, in weakness and illness.  The sinus infection to which I succumbed, when TPTB first started giving me psychotropic drugs, has taken root, and I am really sick.  There is just too much mucus drainage in my system and it congests my sinuses and goes into my lungs and causes deep coughing.  I am trying to avoid going to the doctor, partly because I don't trust any medical professional right now, and partly because of problems with my COBRA insurance.  If I still feel this bad when my insurance goes through, though, I probably will break down and go.  The penicillin really kicked butt last time, and it is just too tempting to get over this quickly.  At least I don't feel so feverish as I did the last time---I just feel really weak and sick, and I wake up coughing at night.  If I were employed, I would be in a world of suffering, but as it is, I can lay down in bed and take a nap anytime I want.

My body still has not returned to normal from the horrible side effects of the psychotropic drugs.  Last night at yoga, I was dismayed at how "dead" and heavy my muscles still feel--in my back, my trunk, my arms, legs and hips.  At least I am getting some strength back, but nowhere near normal levels.  My body is resilient, but at some point I have to wonder whether I will get back my normal strength.  The suffering has been great--as with the lithium, I can see the suffering etched on my face--probably permanently.

The good news is that I have started to dream again (the drugs totally inhibited my ability to dream, or at least remember them).  It was terribly traumatic not to have my dreams.  I depend on them  so much for my interior conversation.  But I had a dream last night, and while it was not a "good" (i.e."pleasant") dream, I think I am moving closer to identifying the evil spirit within me.  As a matter of fact, I think I may be able to name it, but I don't know that it is a good idea to reveal it.  Of that, I'm sure.  I need to pray before any further discussion or proceeding....

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Weak Body Breaking Down on Me


Sometimes I wonder why I should bother to write when I just say the same thing over and over again, but somewhere there's got to be a record of just how really bad these drugs are for me--on every level.  My hands and arms are so weak that I can hardly type.  I think they cause too much dopamine to be released, and then neurons for basic physical movement just shut down.  But I am not a doctor, so I only theorize.  However, I do know my body and its responses intimately, and something is really wrong when all I want to do is lay in bed and sleep.  Watching TV places a distant second place.  But I also have lost my ability to concentrate so why watch TV?  It's too hard.  Everywhere, I am getting bad news.  I've got hospital and credit card bills that I can barely stay on top of---especially when I feel too sick and drained to deal with them.  Physically, I am too weak to work out on even the most basic of levels (20 minutes of walking on the cardio machines), at a time when I'm desperate to lose weight in order to preserve my eyesight.  I know a big part of it is fluid retention (I can literally see the swollen ankles and recognize when the csf is affecting my eyesight), but I can't get a medical doctor to help me deal with what I really need help with--the hormonal problems that are causing the fluid retention/weight gain, or even just the intersexed condition.  I have a strong suspicion that getting rid of extraneous gonads would go a long way to normalizing my hormones. 

I also have made up my mind to seek an ally just as soon as I physically feel able to function again.  I am thinking of renewing contact with the Episcopal Church, mainly inspired by the election of a female as primate of the Church.  She is a woman of faith, I can tell, and her vision of church community is the same as mine.  But it is more than one person.  I cannot imagine Opus Dei having the kind of power and exercising the level of abuse that I have experienced at their hands, ever existing in the Episcopal Church.  Under no circumstances or conditions would I ever have anything to do with the Roman Catholic Church.  Opus Dei can torture me all they want (and I know that they are the originators of my legal woes; their stupidity is beyond belief.  But considering that they are mostly brainwashed ideologues I shouldn't be surprised).  However, I am a person of faith, and I may as well support, and be supported by other people of faith whose vision of church and theology I share.  But to be honest, I'm not really a "church-y" kind of person either.  Maybe though I will try it out.

I'm also thinking of applying for law school.  I don't know though that my motivations are sufficient.  Having suffered from so much injustice,  I recognize how importantthe pursuit and practice of law is, but I don't know if it is for me.  I watched the movie, "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance" today, and I identified all the way with John Wayne.  I am more like a cynical outlaw than an outraged idealist.  (Maybe not though; I just remembered who is on as my screen saver).  Well, these are thoughts I will need to think on, when my mind is clear again.  Not today.


Thursday, November 9, 2006

"Broken" mirror neurons

11/9/06--Another day in bed, barely able to function, though I did make an attempt to talk to someone re: my 20,000 dollar hospital bill.  That will have to wait for another day.  I did finish reading some articles on autism in Scientific American.  That is not my usual fare, but I was intrigued, because I recognized my own symptomology in their hypothesis.  The basic hypothesis is that humans have a mirror neuron system that automatically, and intrinsically, "mimics" the physical actions of another human, especially when the imitator can perceive the intent.  These mirror neurons are missing or dysfunctional in autistics.  I immediately recognized my deficiency in this, because I learned a long time ago that I learn very poorly and laboriously when I attempt to imitate someone's action.  The classic example for me (though most certainly not the only one), is following aerobic step activity which makes a lot of complicated moves.  I don't follow an instructor's visual lead;  I'm incapable of doing so.  Instead, I follow their verbal lead.  This can get a little bit complicated, because they can very involved in instructions very fast, and my only recourse is to think faster...which I do.  I'm capable of giving myself instructions, "turn left, sashay right, make a V, grapevine left" with incredible speed. Maybe that is why my brain seems manic depressive to so many people---because I have learned to adapt my dysfunctional way of processing reality by just speeding up the brain, so I can get and give myself the extensive verbal commands I need to use instead of the more efficient neuronal mirroring.  I can't mirror. I hate it when people try to teach me something by having me follow their lead, especially if they don't give me clear, detailed, step-by-step verbal instructions.  I just zone out, and go back at a later time to try to teach myself.

Speaking of zoning out, that is clearly what is happening to me when I am on these drugs that I am being force fed.  I watched a documentary on marijuana last night and as I watched it, I was amazed at how similar the pot experience is to this---the time distortion, the loss of all energy, and appetite drives.  The only thing that is missing is the feeling of intoxication; instead there is a feeling of malaise.  As I watched the documentary, I had to ask myself, "Why are so many people feeling the need to get high?" I think the answer is behind the same reason why so many people want to control me and my naturally high and exuberant spirits.  We live in a society that distrusts the Dionysian, and overemphasizes the Apollonian.  So our teenagers go out on their weekends and guzzle down fifths of booze.  It is not my personal libido they fear; it is libido, or energy in general.  Poor, pathetic sobs.  Well they sure have done a really bad number on me.  My energy is so low that I'm barely able to function.  Insofar as I do, I find myself very autistic. Another interesting thought from the Sci. Am. article... One symptom that really has been puzzling me is the elevated heart rate.  The doctors at LL talked about stress of being enclosed in an institution.  Bullshit.  I was in jail for six months and I never suffered such an elevated heart rate.  I agree with the theory of Sci Am more.  Autistics suffer from elevated stress because our brains process sensory information differently, especially visual and auditory stimuli, and so we are more easily overwhelmed by such information.  I KNOW that these drugs make me more autistic.  I can tell, and a big part of it is the visual stimuli that my brain is processing.  So the ? I would ask my tormentors is why do you force feed me drugs that make me autistic so that I can "appear" more normal in other respects. 
I don't like being autistic. It took me years to adapt myself otherwise.  Why can't you just praise God that I am so high functioning, and just let me be.

I am sick of being me.  I am sick of being autistic, intersexed, with health problems and everybody lying to me.  I am sick of the religious zealots who dog my steps thinking that I am going to have anything to do with them.  God I wish I were a normal person.  But that is not who I am.  I'm tired God.  Please help me

Wednesday, November 8, 2006


God help me...I don't know if I will ever feel human ever again.  The mental energy is energy is there, though seriously restricted.  It is the physical body which cannot act as a vehicle for any of my mental energy.  It literally takes all my energy just to type, and all I want to do is lie down and sleep.  Speaking of vehicles, I figured out today that my truck registration is overdue.  The registration is a perfect example of how I am not able to function when I am on these drugs.  I remember a couple of weeks ago, thinking for the first time that I had to move on the registration.  But it totally eluded my consciousn mind, until today, when I looked and realized I was already delinquent.  So I have to take care of that first thing tomorrow.  I don't know how I can take care of anything as doped up as I am.  But life doesn't stop, just because I feel too sick and drained to function. 

I saw a kickball game while I went for a brief walk in the park.  It was a coed teenage game, and I envied them, and their energy as they played.  Before I was forced into risperdone and depakote, I was force fed speed, and possibly other psychotropic drugs which left me feeling like a drained, enervated senior citizen.  That is the way I feel---like a senior who cannot even get up the energy to walk a mile.  God help me.  Please God free me from these people who are doping me against my will, and give me my energy, my life, my vitality, and my joy back to me again....

Monday, November 6, 2006

Starting to Feel like a recording


I am so tired of feeling this exhaustion which steals all my energy.  I don't think that people believe me when I tell them how bad I really feel, but I am not exaggerating.  If anything, I underplay how badly I really feel (always the one who keeps pushing on, no matter how much I am suffering).  I believe that the drugs are not supposed to have these type of side effects, but they are.  I don't know if it is my autism or the hormonal problems caused by my intersexed condition.  All I know is that I cannot function with those drugs inside of me.  Today, the big challenge was riding my bike a few blocks to the bank.  Even now, my arms have the heaviness which makes it so difficult to lift my arms to type.  My mom is mad at me.  Dr H is mad at me. They think that I am having some kind of hysterical response to these drugs, but I am not.  I respect and care for both of these people, but I don't know how to get them to recognize, that no matter how implausible, these drugs are having a terrible negative drag on me....

Sunday, November 5, 2006

Getting sicker


Well, the best game of the season is on, along with my favorite commentator (John Madden), and I am too sick to even watch it.  I am suffering from the exact same symptoms that I suffered from when I was forcefed lithium.  I am suffering from that generalized weakness that I feel especially powerful in my joints, which totally stole my strength away last time.  I tried to go to the gym earlier today, and could only do 15 minutes on the treadmill, when I had to give up and go home.  I drove to Red Lobster for dinner, and my knees and legs were so weak that I put the transmission in park mode, while I waited for the light to change.  This morning while calling in to the unemployment line, my arms were so weak that it was a genuine hardship to hold the cellphone up to my ear. 

But right now, it is more than the physical symptoms which bother me--it is the mental and emotional ones.  That is why I cannot watch the game.  It is like I am in an alienated cocoon, and feel nothing--no joy, no excitement, no happiness.  The two top quarterbacks in football are dueling it out in a fast paced pointfest, and I may as well be watching golf.  When I feel this messed up on drugs my memory goes, and I cannot remember the word that I really want.

What I do know though, is that I am "penalized" for emotions (much the same way that I was when I was forced to take lithium).  If  I experience even a little bit of emotion, I feel a "rush" attack my brain, and the weakness assail my body.  This isn't normal and I know it.  I suspect my autism (or maybe something even more idiosyncratic), but I do know that my body will never adjust to these medications.  God help me in the next few weeks.  I hope I don't end up in the hospital.  Even the surgery Dr. H recommends for my eyes is only necessary because the psychotropic drugs are messing up my eyes.  time to lay down.  God help me

Saturday, November 4, 2006

Chemical Castration


I have a very short time frame in which to write---before I have to take 2 mg of Respirodal (spelling?--I sure as fuck don't care.  I don't intend to take the poison long enough to matter) and 250 mg of Depakote.  Why am I taking them?  The answer to that is longer than I have time for today.  I just want to document the destructive side effects that these drugs have on me.  They turn me into a zombie during the day.  I see people around me who are happy and joyous and able to interact with the reality around them, and I am incredibly sad because when I am on these meds, I cannot do so. 

It also is having the same damaging effect on me physically that it had in the hospital---increasing my resting heart rate and creating a real malaise-like drag that leaves me without energy, ambition, or drive.  I just want to sleep.  Yesterday, during my workout, my normal cardio routine on the machines---3 miles in 30 minutes was completely disrupted.  I did not check my resting heart rate, but I could tell it was greatly elevated because working out in the fatburning zone really slowed me down.  I couldn't even break a sweat.  I kept checking my jugular pulse, and was scared how fast my heart was pounding when I wasn't even sweating.  But it took every bit of energy I had just to go 35 minutes.  Like last year, when I felt much the same way, while being force-fed lithium, I couldn't help but envy the people around me, who were able to really jump into their workout with healthy push and vitality.  I'm so sick of  feeling like an invalid.  I continue to suffer from the heaviness in my limbs.  I don't know when I am going to be healthy again.

Then, there are the mental problems caused by the drugs---especially the loss of my dreams (I'm not dreaming, or if I am, I cannot remember them when I wake up).  This is unacceptable, as my dreams are important for guiding me.  I can't pray.  I don't have the concentration.  I can only read for brief periods of time.  Again, my concentration is practically nil.  And my memory is starting to suffer in the same way it did when I was on lithium.   Currently, I am reading Sangharishita's Survey of Buddhism.  He was writing of vipassana meditation.  So yesterday, I did an internet search for vipassana, and remember that I  found what Iwas looking for.  This morning I started reading again, and ran into the vipassana referrence again, and for the life of me, I cannot remember what I learned in yesterday's search.  At all. 

This is a huge handicap.  A big part of my intelligence has to do with my prodigious memory.  I have an incredible capacity for short term memory, and normally am constantly thinking about topics that I am currently reading about.  This is also the source of my concentration. I cannot ooncentrate or think when I am on these meds, and I am turned into a very average intelligence kind of person.  Now, I am afraid to apply for a challenging job with my mind like this (I want a tech support position).  I don't believe I have the mental capacity right now to successfully understand and complete a rigorous training.

Before I leave I want to say why I am re-reading Survey of Buddhism.  My inner voice told me to, before I got all doped up on these drugs.  "SB", along with The Science of Yoga,  were read at a really fruitul time in my college career.  I had just finished reading St. John of the Cross' classical works as well as The Cloud of Unknowing, and I was so struck by the similarities  that I started immediately re-reading the Christian classics along with the Buddhist/Yoga texts.  The big difference is that the Christian authors are more poetical in tone and prose, while the Eastern authors are more analytically conceptual in their description of essentially the same reality, which could be called meditation or contemplation.  I was also sitting in half lotus (I could do that back then and even occasionally hit a full lotus), every day for 20 minutes.  These books enabled me to rein in my "monkey mind" for the first time in my life.

My mind is not in good shape right now.  I can clearly recognize that.  I know too, that much of my current "monkey mind" is a result of the damage done by the lithium.  I have to get my clarity of mind back and the books/meditation practice can help me, but they are severely undermined by the psychotropic drugs I currently am forced to take.  Interestingly enough, "the thoughts" that the drugs are supposed to curb, rule with even greater intensity when I am drugged.  What the drugs impact is my impact to creatively write/transform/understand my thoughts.  I am so messed up.  God help me.

Didn't get to my eyes, but clearly these drugs have a terrible impact on my eyes as well....

Thursday, November 2, 2006

more on psychotropic drugs


I still am being force-fed psychotropic drugs, with ever increasing sophistication.  I have just been released from an enforced stay at a psychiatric hospital.  Today is the first day in 3 or 4 weeks that I have felt "normal", healthy, and just really good about myself and my ability to function in the world.  After weeks, and even months of being force-fed drugs, there is no doubt in my mind how terribly destructive they are to my physical, psychological, and emotional state of being.  Even now, I feel so clear-minded, goal oriented, and energetic for the first time in a long time.  I can actually "read" for the first time in weeks---both with appropriate physical focus and my nomally formidable mental concentratio.

All this being said, I am really sad that this brief respite is going to end very soon.  As part of the agreement to release me from involuntary incarceration, I agreed to take a month of the drugs, and today I will start again.  I am very afraid that they are going to land me back in the hospital with serious and possibly life threatening consequences from cerebral edema.  Now that I have been two days off the drug, the buzz in my ears and the constant headache and malaise have significantly decreased.  I know though, that as soon as I start taking the drug again, it is going to increase again dramatically.  I can definitely (if subjectively), link the increase of csf pressure to taking Risperdol, not to mention all the other side effects---the malaise, the lethargy, the inability to focus, to concentrate, to even read, just an overall state of feeling awful---like I have the flu times three.  But I cannot get anyone, not even Dr. Huaman (who has been monitoring my eyes for months now, and who should surely be able to see the differences in my eyes when psychotropic drugs are introduced into my system), to concur.  So I am truly screwed.  I could fight it viciously, but what is the point?  First of all, I gave my mother my word, and I am a person who honors her word.  Secondly, there is nothing I can do to prevent these people from doping me up without my consent.  I am still in constant leg nerve pain from the surreptitious doses of speed that they give me.  I don't think my leg will ever be normal again.  So the lesson has been duly appropriated---forced drugs cause permanent body damage.  I just fear that taking these psychotropic drugs are going to cause permanent damage in the month before I can honorably stop taking them.  But I am tired of fighting---even for my own life and health.  I just want this over with asap so I can ahead with my normally healthy and vigorous life.  So it may be a while, before I write anything of substance.

Before I go, I guess I should talk about what is going on with my legal problems with Augusta filing a total bogus criminal complaint against me.  I am very disappointed with the whole AOL scene.  I am tired of making apologies for them.  I just read Mary Cheney's (she is on their board) autobiography (in about 30 minutes---that is how much substance it had), and it is clear that they are only interested in the most superficial facets of leadership.  Most specifically, they are looking for people who can act as power brokers with the political scene, rather than the mature character and vision of true leadership.

I know that the world is poised for cataclysmic changes that is going to change our perception of who and what we are, and most specifically our androcentric arrogance, and perception of reality.  I  have insight into the matter, but at this point, I am unwilling write it down.  And given that the next month, I will be too sick to do much more than write down my symtomology (to preserve a record), it will have to wait for at least a month.

One last little note--I have started taking Relacore again.  I found out that it has 4 mg of DHEA in each capsule which is a small dosage, but which has a huge impact on me.  I still have peach fuzz on my face from the first time I took it.  But the alternative is equally unappealing.  My weight problem is intractable, and I can always get the hair removed surgically later.  I'd rather have facial hair removed medically than eye surgery--optic nerve sheath fenestration.  So I am going to give it my best shot, and see if I can avoid having eye surgery.  My prospects are not good