Go there and come out stark raving mad?
Sheppard Pratt Asylum Is designed as a Critical CARE Psychiatric Stabilization facility for those who struggle with medical conditions such as Bipolar Disorder (like myself) or any other psychiatric “diagnosis.” It has an impressive and illustrious history as an innovative facility when it was first conceived and built in the mid-19th century – a refuge, with its concentration on humane treatment.
However, reputation, to be sustained, must demonstrate consistency of those values and principles, rather than regression from them.
Undoubtedly, Sheppard and Pratt are totally turning in their graves.
The isolation we feel exhaustively, all by ourselves, ripens there.
So there are parallels to the real world. Severe Depression, which is just a hop, skip and jump away from Death, actually spikes exponentially there.
The Human Spirit is crushed, until we finally, breath by breath, disappear. This, my friend, is where you go to watch yourself become one of The Invisibles.
Now when you are on the outside, you have some wiggle room. You may choose to remove yourself from the Kingdom of Ignorance, if only for a breath of fresh air, and focus on the brightness of the Human Spirit.
We have choices.
Smell the fragrance of a lovely flower.
Listen to music.
There we have no choices. We are at the mercy of Stupidity, Ignorance and Fools, and we have nowhere to go, locked between two nightmares.
There is this clearly defined and unshakeable and raw feeling that they do not care.
Then again, if you wanna but haven’t yet experienced depersonalization, it’s available there. Think of it as a lean, introductory course on the subject. And since I am naturally an optimist, I feel compelled to plug the positive spin here.
First, your empathy and understanding have grown for those who do experience such devastating psychological symptoms.
This accidental slip, for example, allows you to drift into unknown territory altogether, as you wonder if you really did, in fact, erase your memory of an entire day of your existence, because someone is insisting you did – when you didn’t.
Luckily, there are other patients there who know that you didn’t – just as you had thought. And they are now your salvation.
But this additional drop of uncertainty and confusion has now bloomed in your head.
Shit happens, right?
Be forewarned, however, any heroic attempt to battle the trolls and the slugs just makes you crazier. Totally not worth it.
They follow whatever code they’ve culled and pinned to you from the Diagnostic Statistic Manual, and we all know how that keeps expanding with each new edition.
But that’s exactly when the epiphany occurs …
I had never truly understood what I Am Not My Diagnosis meant until I realized that that is all you are there – a code.
Hey! Look at me. I’m still here.
Sadly, they do not hear or see you. You have disappeared.
So when the object of hospitalization is to support and help you shed the nasty symptoms of Depression, and instead you are fighting to be seen and heard – those are the exact type of challenges we do not need.
The salt on the wound is the absolute isolation from the actual world. This is the abyss. Isolation is not good. They keep preaching that. And then that’s exactly what they do.
So what do you do?
Well, trying to pry open their eyes is futile. They get really, really pissed at you. And that makes them more sinister and deadly, while they sharpen their ignorance from unbelievable heights, as you are fighting for your sanity …
You are too fucking busy to be worrying about Suicide. So in that sense they have met their goal. You have shifted from suicidal ideation to absolute self-preservation. Plus, Existentialism is the only dish on the menu.
Reminds me of a poem by Stevie Smith. An attempt to communicate with those on shore, while being swallowed by the sea …
“Not waving. But drowning.”
This is an Affective Disorder of the highest order:
Projecting the Opposite of How You Feel
You’ve been catching up with your sleep (busy, tired) and you feel rested.
However, people tell you, you look tired.
When you’ve been getting less than enough sleep, and you feel and actually are tired, people tell you, you look rested.
I would imagine DSM V would put this as part of their next update in the Personality Disorder column.
So which one matters?
Sometimes it takes a while to make those connections just right – In other words, those months and years spent thinking about why people willingly accept blatant lies (the answer to that may be infinite) and what prevents them from waking up.
We are all familiar with the marijuana propaganda. It’s been in place as a Public Relations effort on the orders of who knows whom –
(Vague enough for you?
For a long time.
The more amusing aspects were early attempts to exaggerate its demonic properties in Reefer Madness. Which is now considered a hilarious epic of exaggeration.
But that’s exactly how some people perceive it still. Marijuana makes you a lunatic.
Put that up against a “mentally ill person” and you got a dynamite combination.
But let’s see if we can find where the actual lunatic lurks here…
First of all, I propose pharmaceutical companies designate 20% of their research to the properties and applications and development of these properties for therapeutic and other value.
Otherwise, why bother studying marijuana? It’s a plant that grows abundantly and easily accessible.
Now we don’t have to paint the pharmaceuticals as the Evil Giant in the room. In fact, they don’t have to do much at all. Just not choose to study it.
So if they are forced to devote 20% of their Research (that’s a big percentage) to marijuana as an act of giving back to the community –
Well that would work.
As for the title here.
I got distracted.
I went off on a tangent.
I knew the pharmaceuticals were connected to my theme.
So the pharmaceuticals produce lots of really expensive drugs that mostly don’t work to treat psychiatric phases of Depression or Bipolar Episodes. And they’re really expensive. So they make a lot of money, dispensing crap.
But not just crap.
Just read the warnings on the bottles.
A real gamble.
And yet, these meds are pushed on patients.
So if you’re lucky enough to find a medication that will help stabilize your moods with no side effects – i.e., You don’t feel like a zombie or after you’ve gained 80 pounds as one of the meds side-effects. – then surely you’ll stick with it.
Unless you’re a total fool.
When you find something else that helps you manage your medical condition but it’s classified as a “dangerous” drug, you are forced to break the law.
My question is:
Where are the laws that protect my rights as a patient? What right does the government have to withhold a substance that is medicinally beneficial for my condition?
Can they do that?
Winding my way back to my theme …
Not there yet.
Will get there.
WordPress is determined to introduce new ways of solving problems because of their dinosaur physique.
They squeeze the solutions out of their users.
And this post keeps popping up as having failed to post.
So at this point, I have no idea how many of these are out there.
But it sure is lots of fun!
So I have no idea whatsoever where this fits in this fomenting imaginary monster …
At some point I recall saying something about patterns emerging, but beyond that, I haven’t got the foggiest as to what’s going on here.
It all began with a tiny accident. Lately, I see pieces that had posted showing the post failed. I didn’t want a double-post, and I didn’t know what to do with it, other than edit what lay ahead of me and publish it.
As for today (space for confessional here) the sky is chronically gray with occasional intense thunderstorms. And it is on this day – today – my marriage ended, according to court filings. (Appropriate forecast there.)
I made it!
One may often wonder about that …
How do you explain it?
To demonstrate an accurate version of it.
What general perceptions exist about the Crazies? Stereotypes?
Well lots of those exist.
They’re really popular.