Day 64: March 4, 2008- Screaming For Freedom
Title is a blend of Mr. Kearney's line in Girl America- "I can see her screaming when she's dreaming for freedom"
"Well half way down is half way out of here
We're either halfway drowned or half way 'round the pier
When you're that far gone
I can't break her, I can't break her fall
She's lying in the back room, crying on the bathroom floor
Singing I can't take it, I can't take any more
Just one reason, one to believe in
That's not that far gone
Not that far gone
She says today is gonna be the last time
And I know there's never gonna be an easy way out"
- Mat Kearney: Can't Break Her Fall
Everyone says mental health is just like physical health...often using that point for their own gain, in trying to say that everyone should seek help...but after six years in and out of the system, I’ve decided that yes, mental health is like physical health in that sometimes you just get dealt a sucky hand, and you can’t do anything about it, and you deal with it. You can responsibly refuse treatment as well.
If I had a brain tumor (which believe me, has indeed been thrown out as a possibility, but I figure the suggested “full neurological work up” wouldn’t really be worth the money...why pay thousands of dollars just to be told “you’re screwed!” or “you’re perfectly fine!”?), then it would be up to me to decide if I wanted to pursue treatment, knowing that it could prolong my life, but also make it quite painful at the same time.
Same situation. I’m tired of people throwing out their ideas when it’s based on nothing. I’m tired of having things shoved down my throat. I’m tired of being reminded of who I am. I’m tired of being forced to come up with answers to things that I’m clueless about. Like...seriously...why do you think I was trying to get help? Obviously I don’t have answers...so don’t act like I should. I’m just tired of everything about it. It was my decision to get back in to the whole treatment plan crap after realizing how horrible my life had become, and oddly enough, it’s only made it worse.
It’s not worth it anymore. Absolutely not worth it. It’s funny how it seems as though those who refuse physical treatment are seen as brave and accepting. They want to make the best of the time they have left. But those who refuse mental health treatment are seen as irresponsible. I’ve thought this over, and I don’t see how it could help. Could it prolong my life? Maybe..but at what cost?
I’m becoming convinced that whatever is going on with me will eventually kill me. I don’t mean that in a suicide way. There are times when I just completely lose myself, and nothing of my “normal” self remains. I absolutely don’t think the same. I wonder about those times, in that sense...but...no. I’m mainly referring to the little things. The stress that I’ve put my body under over years of prolonged sleep issues- whether it be the inconsistency, or flat out sleep deprivation for days on end. The incredibly inconsistent diet I have of eating all the wrong foods all the time, or hardly eating at all for a few days. The insane anemia, resulting in me often being quite weak. Hardly ever leaving the house...it’s all seriously compromising my immune system, and I’ve been told many times by many people that I just better hope I never get seriously ill, because my body couldn’t fight it off. Not to mention it’s near impossible for me to swallow a pill anymore. I apparently picked up a major pill phobia after trying to suicide on a cocktail of who knows what when I was 12. My throat starts to close up at the mere thought of having to take a pill, which is the main reason why I haven’t treated my anemia...iron pills are huge and I completely gag. I guess that can happen when you down over 25 and then stay violently ill for nearly 2 weeks. It doesn’t leave the most pleasant memory. So...when I say I can’t swallow pills, and screw up various treatment plans because of that, I’m not trying to be difficult, which always seems to be the consensus...I’ve gotten physically ill when I’ve tried to force “normal sized” pills down, so...yea.
Between losing myself, and the physical stuff that my body has endured because of whatever is going on with me...they could eventually kill me if they continue to get worse.
Everyone shoved every freaking diagnosis under the sun down my throat all those years ago...and now..”well...your MMPI scores are all decently normal... so that solves it. nothing could possibly be wrong with you...our all mighty, ever so holy MMPI knows all”.
They say it’s supposed to trick you and catch if you lie...but that was the worst test I’ve ever taken. I convince myself out of everything I feel...I intellectualize every emotional thing when the spotlight is on me...which is funny, because I don’t care about “solids”...I care about emotion. I live for emotion...but when it comes down to me...I can’t do that. How do you answer a yes or no question of “do you feel hopeless?”...you have no chance to ever explain...it’s just yes or no. I do feel hopeless, but I know that’s stupid and grossly near-sighted. I know there is hope. I say no, even though I FEEL hopeless, because even there are no right/wrong answers with mmpi, it’s clear that “no” is the right answer. And that’s how the entire test went. I went with what I knew.
So all of that to say...I’m done. Nothing in my life has ever been conventional, mainly due to whatever is wrong with me...so I don’t know why I thought I could be fixed through something as conventional and cookie cutter as the american mental health system...but I’m through. I’m going to find my own way. Attempt to ignore my other half as much as I can, and deal with it when it comes.
I desperately need to figure out how to have a spiritual life while living like this. Going from seriously loving God, to not even being able to acknowledge there is a god...that makes it pretty difficult. I think it’d be cool to go to England and stay at their L’Abri program for a while (www.labri.org/england/home.html). I need to get out of the area if I have any hopes of changing, that’s for sure. I’m so secluded, I’m in such a rut...that would force change. I know my heart, and the core is just the same as it always was...I have the same spiritual desires, I have the same beliefs...so it makes sense for me to go to some place like L’Abri...and have the spiritual teaching, but having the fellowship of people who are all honestly searching and asking the hard questions in the same kind of way. It’s $25 a night, and the average stay is like 8 weeks...but it’s something to think about.
I need to be removed from this stupid situation and I desperately want to find a way to have a consistent walk with God. ...it sounds perfect.
It would be nice to go back to church, as I still love that place...but...I can’t. I realize that church isn’t just for people who have it all together, and that it should be all-accepting...believe me...I saw nothing but the best of that when I went to Life...but when you can’t even make a commitment to be there nearly every Sunday...it’s hard. I hated who I was. How do you explain that to people? I hated feeling like I had to lie. I knew they’d totally be fine with the real answer...but...do you really just throw 18 years of baggage on someone you’ve only known for a few weeks?
I hate to sound cliche, especially at this age...but...I need to go find myself. And as easy as it would be to just get lost in photography and have that be my life...I don’t want to live a life that doesn’t have God as it’s priority. I’ve lived both options, and lived each one for quite some time, and there’s no comparison. Everything was empty. Even now, things are far more empty than they should ever be, because that relationship is so strained. The heart is still there...but the mind has wandered.
I’m done caring about judgment, because no one knows...no one has a clue. Some people think I seem absolutely fine, other people think I’m just...gone...and they’re all equally right and wrong. I’m done caring about things that don’t aid to a better quality of life, and a stronger walk with God...preferably simultaneously. I’m not sure what gives me any hope of getting out of this...but there is a peace. There’s a peace in knowing that all I have to do is all I can...and if I still lose, then that’s okay. There are bigger reasons for everything that goes on, and it goes far beyond what I could ever comprehend. If I still lose, there’s a bigger reason. There’s always a bigger picture.
All I have to do is breathe my next breath and seek after God...and when I can’t breathe any longer, at least I know I’ll be going Home.