PSYCHEDELICS IN MENTAL HEALTH & WHERE’S DAVE?

I shouldn’t keep bothering poor Dave. I’m going to wind up with a restraining order when actually I’m just worried. I don’t want to date him, marry him, touch him (maybe his hair) or anything I just recognize the look in someone’s eyes that I’ve seen in my own.

Psychedelics are the new “IT” drug/treatment for Trauma/Addiction/Depression, the problem is there isn’t enough recent research on the effects of Psychedelics on different disorders to make it a sure thing.

From 1949 to 1973 there were 21 studies published involving a total of 423 patients. Only 4 of the studies used control groups and descriptions of the patients were not very specific. They didn’t differentiate between patients with depression or anxiety disorders. Most of the studies were done on inpatients who knew they were getting a psychedelic drug beforehand. This causes the person to have expectations or preconceptions before the study even started.

What researchers can agree on is that it does help with treating alcoholism/addiction. But funding for more recent research probably won’t happen. Psychedelics are not patentable so there’s no money to be made, patients would only have to take single doses rather then repeated doses. This means less money for Pharmaceutical Companies and they won’t let that happen.

James Rucker, MD, MRCPsych, PhD, of the King’s College London Institute of Psychiatry has done some recent research and gone over all of the old research. The one thing that is concerning is the recent research that suggests patients with a history of Bipolar Disorder, Psychosis, First degree relatives with Psychosis, histories of self harm or suicide attempts should be excluded from Psychedelic use.

People with Mood Disorders have been known to feel “self aware, enlightened or feel they see the world differently” but only for a short time before they enter into a depressive episode.

I’ve researched this extensively and this was the first time I had read this information. I have to say that it makes sense to me from people I know that have tried it.

The brain is so complex without further studies it’s too risky for me.

 

Too Much Everything

It isn’t easy when you are too much of everything or feel too much. It is the most difficult part of Bipolar for me. What makes it worse is when you can’t say or do anything about how you feel or what you observe.

I’M TOO QUIET: At times I’m ridiculed for being quiet and shy. I listen to what’s being said around me. I suppose some people would call it eavesdropping but it was never done in a malicious way. I would simply zone out and pick up on conversations.

I’M TOO LOUD: At times I was told to take it down a notch because I would talk too loud and fast. There were people who thought it was funny when I talked loud and fast because they assumed it was due to my caffeine level. Other people became annoyed.

I’M TOO SENSITIVE: I am sensitive in every way. I admit this. I’m sensitive to how other people are feeling, the energy in a room when I enter, a person’s emotions when I’m in the same room with them, and the eyes really are the window to a person’s soul. I’m a sponge that soaks up every positive/negative energy around them while trying to deal with my own feelings.

I’M TOO EMPATHETIC: When I see a person talk about an issue important to me that’s also important to them and that person breaks down I break down. If I see someone in a home video on Instagram and I know they’re not themselves I get a sick feeling in my stomach. The hardest part is being unable to say or do anything about it. If I comment I look like a “crazy” fan or like

I want something. The fact is I worry too much.

I WORRY TOO MUCH: I worry all the time. It’s a horrible feeling. You always feel disaster is just around the corner. In my own personal life a lot of the time it has been.

I can and do see when a person is heading towards a depressive episode or they’re in a bad place. I may not always be aware of it in myself but in others I’m pretty spot on.

My twin sister doesn’t give me credit for much but for this she has been amazed at how I pick up on things. At one time she accused me of somehow reading her text messages or her husband’s. They always have their phones on them and I NEVER SEE THEM IN PERSON ENOUGH! I asked her when she thought I could’ve possibly had access to either of their phones? Her husband’s is always physically on him and I never get that close to him! lol

After it happened a few times she admitted that I was intuitive about certain issues. Which is true it does only apply to specific areas. My guess is because I deal with these things myself. I don’t always know when I’m Manic or in a dangerously deep depression. There have been times when I’ve been triggered, setting off the Conversion Disorder, that I only remember pieces of. This scares me more than anything. Being completely out of control of not only your mind but your body too is frightening. When it’s a small trigger I know I’ll stutter a bit and it will pass. When it’s a big trigger I might not be aware of, all bets are off. It’s embarrassing, shame inducing, confusing, exhausting, scary, and sometimes I don’t know the trigger.

I have “too much” areas that aren’t necessarily a negative. I’m too kind, I’m too loyal, I’m too curious, there are many more I just can’t think of them right now.

I’m not saying I’m a Prophet, Psychic, or anything similar, we all have the ability to be more aware of facial expressions, mannerisms, tone of voice, change in behavior, a person’s eyes, we just don’t tap into that part of out brains. When we don’t we miss a lot that could potentially save lives.

Suicide Shaming

I was scrolling through Instagram recently when a picture popped up of a musician who had done a charity event for a friend who had died in a car accident. He didn’t do much performing from what I understand he mostly talked. There were other musicians that performed but his name was more recognizable. I read the comments which I usually don’t like to do but I’m a glutton for punishment.

The musician I’m referring to had made comments about how his friend deserved a tribute unlike the “cowards who took the easy way out” these may not be his exact words because it’s been removed from Instagram in the last few hours.

He’s known for putting his large foot in his mouth and not really caring until it starts to interfere with his ticket sales or Social Media numbers. Then he back peddles.

I’ve always admired his vocal range and song writing. I read several interviews where he said he was sober. They were from reputable sources and he also said it on a TV interview. When another musician overdosed he had said that he didn’t understand because they had just had dinner together and were both sober.

This is a case of people in glass houses. Unless you’re perfect keep your comments to yourself.

I’ve met you, watched you drink from a bottle of Red under your chair, recognized the bluish-purple stain of your teeth, talked to you while you were drunk in the last 2 years. I don’t think you’ve ever truly been sober for any length of time. You belong to that secret club that believes you can drink as long as it’s “controlled”. There are other people in this club I know and it doesn’t work.

You have no right to say who deserves something and who doesn’t. You’re drinking to mask a pain you don’t want to face. These people were trying to face their pain but combined with mental illness it was maybe too much. I don’t know and you don’t know what was going on. I do know the pain, shame, and hopelessness you feel while at your lowest point. You don’t even think of reaching out. Some of us don’t have anyone to reach out to. We fear hospitalization because honestly it’s horrendous.

There’s no simple answer to this subject. It’s complex because every human is different with different brain chemistry, genetics, environment, life experience, you can’t predict or pretend to know what a person is feeling or how they will react.

I see more and more self-help propaganda that frustrates me to no end. We are talking about the brain. It’s so complex that the top scientists in the World admit they just don’t know when it comes to serious mental illness and brain disorders. THEY DON’T KNOW.

But go ahead and take advice from a person with no degree in Medicine, Psychiatry, Neurology or Neuropharmacology because they would know right?1037361horace-poet-it-is-the-false-shame-of-fools-to-try-to-conceal-wounds

GO ON AND SAVE YOURSELF

I won’t follow along with an ideal or concept unless I’ve asked questions and received answers that satisfy my curiosity. If this doesn’t happen or I find reason to disagree with the masses I find myself being scolded, judged, or told to “go along to get along”.

Guess what? I’ll be 45 in January ( I know I don’t look it at all! ) and I’ll be damned if at this stage of my life I’ll be bullied or told to be quiet anymore. I’m done being quiet, silent, playing nice, sugar coating events and feelings and being a doormat.

So this is my opinion take it or leave it.

Some group somewhere decided what was “right” and what was “wrong” when it comes to words used describing “Mental Health”.

  • Saying a person is mentally ill is no longer correct.
  • You should say they have a mental health condition.
  • Crazy, insane, bonkers, etc. is unacceptable. (Not sure when it ever was?)
  • Instead people should say they’re diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder/Schizophrenia/Depression
  • They suffer from Bipolar Disorder/Anxiety/Schizophrenia is also wrong to say.
  • The correct phrasing is “they live with a mental health condition/illness. (what about the first one where mentally ill is no longer correct?)
  • They committed suicide is also wrong.
  • They died by suicide is the right way to phrase it. (what about those that try? Do we say they failed to die by suicide or they survived a suicide attempt making them survivors & that has never sat well with me considering I have failed five times myself because I was too drunk.

All of this is ridiculous. The money spent on this research could’ve been put towards better treatment options.

RECOVERY, RECOVERY, RECOVERY, YOU BEAUTIFUL BASTARD THAT DOESN’T EXIST IN MY WORLD I HAVE A BETTER CHANCE OF DAVE NAVARRO FLYING ME OUT TO L.A. FOR DINNER THAN I DO AT RECOVERY. (so for invoking your name Dave)

  1. Recovery implies that mental illness is a choice. Serious mental illness like Bipolar or Schizophrenia are considered lifelong chronic health conditions. Both take a toll on the body and brain, there is no cure.
  2. Recovery suggests a need to return to “normal” state. Which makes me feel more alone and worse about myself. I know I’m not the only one. It also contributes to Stigma.
  3. The concept of recovery by society is detrimental to the person living with the illness/situation. Questions are asked; If people recover, why aren’t you? It must be something you’re doing wrong. Maybe your medications are “preventing” your “recovery” or your choice not to take medications is.
  4. Recovery is an unrealistic standard for any chronic illness whether it’s an autoimmune disease like Celiac (which I have), cancer, Chronic Kidney Disease (got that too), or Bipolar Disorder, Schizophrenia and some Somatoform Disorders. The best you can do is try to manage them. If you experience psychosis or are not capable of rational decisions/choices why are people expecting you to choose recovery?
  5. Behavioral Health isn’t the same as Mental Illness. Behavioral Health focuses on diet, exercise, mindfulness, and sleep habits. This is fine for a person who might feel a little sluggish or down at times but not for anyone diagnosed with a serious mental illness. There is a huge difference. Changing what I eat will not stop me from seeing myself hanging from a forest of trees at the library. Exercising when there are many days my bones feel like they’re broken won’t stop me from sitting on my kitchen floor with butcher knife pressed into my stomach with no knowledge of how I got there. I also couldn’t hear my Dad calling my name or feel him shaking me. I was in another place and it was scary for both of us.

I suffer, I don’t feel like there is recovery for some of us due to many complicated circumstances but there is remission sometimes. I look forward to those small windows of some kind of happiness or as close to it as I can get. I’ll call myself whatever the hell I want to. I’m the one who has had to live this way for 32 years with so many suspecting or misdiagnosing, poking and prodding, degrading and judging, I’ve earned that right. And maybe I am a survivor or I just like to fight sometimes either way this is it I AM A BIPOLAR ALCOHOLIC IN REMISSION 9 1/2 YEARS ATHEIST WITH CONVERSION DISORDER, SOCIAL PHOBIA AND SEVERE ANXIETY. I HAVE TRIED TO COMMIT SUICIDE 5 TIMES BUT DID SO WHILE EXTREMELY INTOXICATED SO I’VE HAD MY WRISTS STITCHED, DRANK CHARCOAL, STOMACH PUMPED, ANKLE WRAPPED FROM MY ATTEMPT AT FLIGHT, SOME OF THESE MORE THAN ONCE. AS I GOT OLDER AND SOBER I STOPPED TRYING. I STILL THINK ABOUT IT BUT NOW IT’S ONLY A THOUGHT BECAUSE I’M TOO AFRAID OF NOT KNOWING WHERE I’LL GO WHEN I DIE AND THAT’S THE TRUTH.

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO SUPPORTS ME AND DOESN’T JUDGE ME HERE.

It’s once you enter more of the real world that it’s harder.

I TRIED TO OWN WHAT I DID IT DIDN’T GO WELL

I tried to own my actions with my brother in law when I talked to my sister last night. It backfired. My sister started yelling a lot and some of it I blocked out. She did say “Every time we talk it’s about death or health when I just want to have a normal conversation! If you wanted to die that bad you should’ve done a better job all those times you tried! I’m sick of hearing all this bullshit!” I hung up. I was trying to take responsibility and show that I’m aware that what happened was partly my fault when I had been blaming my brother in law for the entire thing.

My brother in law was the smallest in his class and went to a school where he was one of the few white kids. He was made fun of or beaten daily. He was also sexually abused at a young age. As he got older he had problems with how he saw his body and an eating disorder followed. The only time he felt comfortable was when he played guitar and drank with his friends.

Music became his life and so did alcohol. He became best friends with a group before they became famous and they treated him like family. They all drank together. They all had their problems. He started to spiral when it looked like his music career wasn’t going to be what he thought it would be. To him music was everything, it was validation that he wasn’t nothing. I understand that now. I understand so much of it now and all I want to do is cry.

Instead I’m scolded again and another person in 48 hours says something similar to how maybe I should’ve done a better job years ago so I wouldn’t still be here. What do you say to that? How am I supposed to feel? I can’t stop stuttering or shaking. I have to hide my tears so I’m not yelled at. I want to go home. I am home.

Trying To Take A Break

The last two days have left me at a breaking point. I was told the real reason my Mom gave up was me. She died because of me. I was such a disappointment to her and broke her heart so many times she couldn’t watch it anymore. It made sense to me given what her last words to me were. “I’m sorry I f*cked up your life” I thought it was all the medications they had her on so I said “You didn’t! I love you more than anything.”

If I did cause her to give up then I don’t know what to do with this information. My Dad also said he wants to stop dialysis and die because ” I can’t continue to watch and listen to you like this, this isn’t my daughter anymore”.

The eight hour gallbladder attack didn’t help either. I took my medications but they were not in me for long before I started to be sick. My gallbladder attacks involve vomiting, low fever, chills, extreme headache and pain under my right rib. Not pleasant.

It messes with what little help I get from the medications I take. I don’t have to tell you that I wasn’t at my best. I wanted to run away where no one could find me. Stop taking pills everyday and worrying about who I’ve offended, who doesn’t like me, who I’ve let down, disappointed, hurt, ruined, and do what I want to do for what’s left of my life.

If the people who supposedly love me think it’s okay to talk to me like they have or just ignore me why am I following their rules? I’m tired of it. I want to actually live for awhile. I don’t want to sit on the couch that isn’t even mine for the few years I have left.

I need a break from mental health. A break from my family and being me. I just have to figure out how. If I don’t do this now I never will.

TO TELL THE TRUTH WILL BE THE HARDEST THING YOU DO

My parents always lived paycheck to paycheck but did their best to make sure their children were loved and taken care of. When my twin sister and I were babies we were in cribs that had wheels. The wheels supposedly locked in place but my mom came in to check on us one night and my crib somehow was across the room and not where it was supposed to be. My mom was frightened and couldn’t understand how it had happened. She put it to the back of her mind. Except it kept happening. My parents finally realized I could pull myself up and I was rocking back and forth. I would continue this soothing behavior for the rest of my life. Whether it was side to side or back and forth I’ve done it since I could talk. What does that say?

I also bounced one leg like a jackhammer without even realizing I was doing it. Teachers would call me out publicly for doing so. Rocking side to side while standing in the lunch line in Elementary School didn’t help either. It’s surprising how many teachers feed into the bullying of someone who is different.

Anxiety started at such an early age I didn’t know what it was. I thought maybe I was dying, adopted, an alien, robot, a mistake, I never thought I belonged, I always knew I was different. People around me at some point or another made sure I knew it too. Little jabs and comments from relatives they thought I didn’t hear or understand. The kids at school, teachers, and now even Doctors.

I always had trouble being away from my Mom for any length of time. In my early teens I did cut myself occasionally to distract my brain. I’d have to deal with the actual physical pain instead of the mental pain for at least awhile. But I knew I couldn’t do it often because my Mom was the nosiest woman on the Planet and noticed everything. I think she really did have eyes in the back of her head.

Besides the rocking that started so early I also had nosebleeds that started at the same time. I’ve told the story before where a babysitter wasn’t told about my nosebleeds or how I could move my crib. When she looked in our room all she saw was blood all over the walls and my crib way across the other side of the room. Not a good night for her.

The nosebleeds continued until I turned 12 when a Doctor decided to take out my tonsils and adenoids. By that time I had my nose cauterized 3 times. If you’ve never had it done let me paint you a picture. In the movies when someone is stranded without medical attention and a wound won’t stop bleeding and they’re afraid of infection someone will heat a piece of metal/iron until it glows red. At that time they press it to seal the wound. In modern times they use a chemical version that’s shoved up your nose. It still hurts like hell. Again, no one bothered to find out why I was having nosebleeds almost everyday. No one bothered to find out why I was rocking either.

I talk about these things now because the brain is more complex than anyone will ever know in our lifetime. We can’t know why a person makes the choices they do because we don’t live in their head. We haven’t been through what they have. Not everyone can pray away their pain, talk away their hopelessness, when they don’t even know why they feel it in the first place.

Most of the time I asked myself “What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you be happy like everyone else? If your own twin can do it so can you. Are you stupid? A mistake? What’s wrong with me?” Having a twin who is living a “normal” life is excruciating to watch and feel. It isn’t resentment. It’s regret.

While I was drunk one night I found out a person I cared about had said and done some upsetting things. He had called me names which I should’ve expected, he told everyone he was only with me to get close to my best friend W, he wouldn’t normally sleep with a “fat bitch” like me, and to top it off I walked in on him kissing W. I grabbed a knife from the sink and started slicing. I was pissed, hurt, and somehow thought it would show them something. What I don’t know. It took awhile for W to find me and take me to the Hospital. My parents weren’t called that time because W was there to back up my lie.

I slit my wrists one more time, overdosed twice, and jumped off the roof of a building (I was too drunk to realize how close to the ground I was). Anyone who fails that many times really needs to give up and accept there’s a reason why you are not succeeding.

I’ve been reading new research. It shows a link between women who had a virus while pregnant that passed to their baby’s brain. A neurologist told me my mother must of had a virus while pregnant because it showed where I had an infection in my brain at one time that caused continuous swelling. This is also linked to mental illness.

The Danish finished research recently where they found that between the years 1945-1995 92,000 Danes were diagnosed with a mood disorder, 36,000 of them had a severe infection or developed an autoimmune disease at some point before being diagnosed with a mood disorder.

The research is strong between inflammation and mental illness. I can’t overlook it considering I have Celiac Disease, Degenerative Disc Disease, Osteoporosis, Spinal Stenosis, Arthritis, and various other problems. There’s also a genetic factor and ethnic factor. It mostly happens with people from Celtic descent. This would be my Mom’s entire family. My Nanny’s side and Poppy’s side both. My mother’s maiden name translates to “dark stranger” from when the Norse invaded Ireland and settled there. Eventually the Norse name became my mom’s maiden name which matches the information we have about where my Grandfather came from in Ireland.

I think I’m off track. It’s almost 4:00 p.m. and my thought process goes downhill starting at 3:00 p.m. so I only have a little bit of time left.

What I wanted to really say is it’s nice to try to reach out to people who need help. If you do it the right way. Blaming someone who is already gone is pointless. When a person is spiraling downward in their own head you can’t get through, believe me I know this first hand. If Psychosis is involved and the person is hearing a voice telling them how useless they are, they’re a piece of shit, their kids would be better off without them so would their entire family, they hurt everyone around them they should just disappear, it’s almost impossible to make that person listen or to expect that person to call you and talk.

There’s nothing rational about suicide so expecting the person to act rational and call someone for help isn’t rational. That’s why it hurts everyone involved as much as it does. Even when the person survives an attempt their life is no longer their own. Trust is gone, relationships damaged beyond repair, no one knows what to say or do so they pretend you are no longer there as if you actually did die. That’s my experience from my life because I’ve lived it. I didn’t read about it in a book or watch 13 Reasons Why I live it and I’m still living it. But the key word in all that I’ve said is “live”.