>it's like magic, only it's real...

9:33 PM

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Starting in the 1950s Carl Rogers brought Pers...Image via Wikipedia
For the past few days I have been wanting to write something here but I have not been able to come up with anything really "meaningful" to write. So I'm just going to let the words flow and see where they lead me.

I'm very preoccupied right now with the personal truths I have been discovering along my path to full recovery. It's really shocked me how quickly I took off down that road once I was just given the information and tools I needed to know which road to go down. It's like I knew exactly all along which way was up and which way was down but just needed some sort of definitive proof that I had the right idea because I had dealt with so many people that I held close telling me that I had everything backwards.

It's really taught me how careful one needs to be about the kind of outer influence they allow in to their personal and social lives. It's also taught me that most people would do well to visit a psychotherapist at least once in their lives and those that criticize the people that do seek some form of mental health assistance usually need it even more than the ones that are seeking it.

Even more interestingly enough I have discovered that those who have intentionally hurt me in one way or another actually did more damage to their selves through such behavior than they can ever dream of inflicting on any one else and will continue to do so because they're trapped within a cycle that they refuse to recognize or admit to. And now looking back on my past abusers, it's like looking back on bunch of people on fire that were telling me I was going to burn in hell when I'm not the one that's on fire.

It makes me want to bust out in to peals of laughter and thank them at the same time. Had they not been so delusional and destructive I would have never pushed to uncover what the delusion was and may have very well permanently joined them in their miserable graves they falsely call "the good life".

Of course, I want to share what I've learned with them. I don't hate them and I want to see them learn and grow towards real happiness like I have. However I refrain because I know that they would never even attempt to explore it much less accept it. Furthermore some of them would try to use it as something to criticize me about, which unfortunately for them would just lead to my bemusement at the irony of being criticized and put down for something that actually makes my life better and would probably make their lives better as well had they just given it a real chance.

Yes, I care about them, but I do not feel sorry for them. They are stubbornly digging their own graves and spitting on anyone that comes near enough to point out they're moving in the wrong direction - how can you feel sorry for someone like that?

Instead, I feel sorry for those who want to dig their way out but simply don't know how. I have been at that point myself for years and I know the merry go round of guilt, shame, and confusion that one goes through when they know something is wrong but they can't quite put their finger on it and they're surrounded by people that keep telling them that they're out of their minds but at the same time criticize and put them down for ever seeking help.

And honestly, you don't really need the professional help. Yes, you do because you're so busy listening to others you have forgotten how to listen to yourself, but the truth is already in you. It's just hidden down way deep underneath all the dysfunctional mess that the world has heaped upon you and the paths you have carved out of the piles of dysfunctional garbage just so you can survive in such a mess. If you're open to it you can find it. If you welcome some professional guidance you can find it ten times quicker. Beneath it all we are all functionally the same. Otherwise there would be no behavioral science because there would be no way to gage how behavior works because everyone is so different.

Anyways, I never knew my life could be this good, much less that I had as great of a sense of direction as it turns out I do. I have navigated some pretty stormy waters and maintained control of my ship with no damages inflicted by the storm. The more experience I get utilizing this "new" method of just listening to myself and rejecting inappropriate behavior the more confidence I gain both in myself and in the fact that I have actually hit on something that is life changing for the better. And I don't need anyone to do it. I don't need anyone to be happy. If you have came here to judge, control, or even just "guide" me you are making one gigantic waste of your time, not only because I don't need or want you but also because it is not your life and you have no real effect on it nor does it affect you.

I have found my true inner self. I have found my Higher Power. That's really all I need.

It seems no wonder to me now why traditional psychiatry embraces the DSM IV but seems to completely disregard any form of real psychological therapy. Real therapy makes real changes that stick. Eventually the client gets to the point where they don't need their therapist any more. However, if you medicate them, they have to keep coming back just to retain some form of functionality... or even just to get their doctor to do something to make the side effects more bearable.

I started in the traditional mental health system when I was 13. Pegged with clinical depression (i.e. "melancholia") and post traumatic stress disorder from parental abandonment, I went through six months of very laid back "counseling" before they decided I didn't need it any more and I just needed to stay on anti-depressants for the rest of my life because at the time I was doing so much better on them - never mind that the counseling itself no matter how casual it was may have been having a positive effect by just giving me a reasonable person to talk to. The anti-depressant would stop working though (now I know that it was like covering a gunshot wound with a band-aid... eventually it bleeds through the band-aid) so I would quit it as I sank deeper and deeper in to a depression. Eventually I learned if I let enough time pass and just dealt with the depression I could restart the anti-depressant and feel better again for a while. I went through that for a while, and eventually I stopped completely because I felt like I didn't really need it and it wasn't doing much good anyways. Sure enough though when I got down depressed enough I would reach for it again just to make myself feel better for a little while. I complained about this to my doctors, and they raised my dosage until it was absolutely as high as it could get. By this time I was running around in circles when under the influence of an anti-depressant... for a little while anyways.

This got tiresome. So I complained about the hyperactivity. It was explained to me that many times this happens to people with bipolar disorder and they decided to combine an anti-psychotic with my anti-depressant. I remember the first one all too well... Abilify. Ugh. At first, it made me feel nice and calm. It balanced me out. But then I started slowly slipping in to a robot/zombie type state. I walked around with a blank expression, arms hanging limp, feet shuffling. I described the world as having lost its color and everything being blank and grey and dull. I wasn't depressed. I wasn't happy either. I didn't feel anything at all. I didn't really think anything at all. I just happened to exist.

They switched me to Depakote next after I complained that Abilify was making me completely non-functional. That one actually wasn't too bad, but it didn't really make enough of a difference to legitimize the $300 a month prescription bill. It made me feel what I can only describe as a little zen. I was calmer. But... it had all the effect of a nice cup of hot green tea...

I got switched again. Geodon. Gahhh... sleep. And more sleep. If I took one of these, I was pretty well gone for the next 24 hours. Even if you got me awake my head spun so badly that I couldn't balance. That's also when the panic attacks started.

So now they decided I had generalized anxiety and panic disorder as well. This time around I got put on Klonopin. Very addictive stuff. I liked it a lot, but that was the problem. Pop one and all my worries drifted away, the knots left my back, and I could just sit back and relax. For a little while. I started building an immunity to it. Then the panic attacks came back worse than before. And for the first time in my life, I started having seizures. Now, you would think they would have suspected that my medication was doing this because it didn't start until I started taking Klonopin and it evidently is a well known fact that Klonopin can do this to someone, especially when it's combined with an SSRI anti-depressant.

Wrong. Evidently I had epilepsy and I never knew or suspected it!

At first I fell for this line of bull. Then I started researching epilepsy and realized that the bill just did not fit. In fact, the bill just didn't quite fit for ANY of the disorders they claimed I had. And then I found out that what I was experiencing was a well known possible serious side effect. I stopped the medication and I quit going to the clinic, mostly out of fear that if I went back they would try to force more medication on me even though I insisted that they were wrong in their diagnosis. I knew that I had to come up with some reason for my symptoms, otherwise they would just assume that I was being resistant to treatment.

I don't quite know how I came across complex post traumatic stress disorder. I think I was researching PTSD more in depth because it was the only disorder that I had been diagnosed with that made any sense. Either way, when I came across complex PTSD - a recently discovered cousin to PTSD that has a slight variance in symptoms and is the result of long term exposure to trauma instead of one time exposure to trauma as it is with PTSD - bells went off. I finally had something to bring to the table.

And so I started on flashback therapy. However, there was still something wrong in the picture I couldn't quite put my finger on. I was resolving the trigger reactions to innocent stimuli but I was not resolving any of the confusion that was whirling around in my mind. This helped but it was not the answer.

Enter my behavioral science class. One day I was innocently researching something like Carl Rogers for my behavioral science class and I stumbled upon a psychotherapist's website that had been erected as a solution to counseling patients when the psychotherapist was not available to actually talk to them. This took all the behavioral theories I had been studying and put them in to in depth therapeutic action. Suddenly all the pieces of the puzzle started to fit together, and I had names for that confusion that was swirling around in my head. I had developed codependency as a result of being raised in a dysfunctional environment and exposure to even more dysfunctional relationships once I left the original environment.

For the first time in my life I was able to tell the professionals EXACTLY what I needed; no ifs, ands, or buts.

Since then that confusion has given way to clear mindedness and a growing confidence in myself. The fog of pain and emptiness that I always seemed to feel has been replaced by crystal clear happiness and peace. I look back on my past and I can clearly and confidently identify exactly what went wrong and how it affected me. Perhaps most importantly though I have forgiven myself for my mistakes, loved and accepted myself for decisions that I was forced to make under traumatic circumstances and even justified those decisions as being for my greater good because they saved me from continuing the dysfunctional cycle I was caught in, and placed the "blame" where - and with who - it belongs. My conscience is clear and I can only look back and wonder at how on earth I allowed myself to let it get so muddled and disturbed by the opinions of others in the first place.

Best of all, I am absolutely tickled pink to just be me. I know without a doubt I deserve and am worth the highest degree of true love and respect. I also now know that anyone that justifies abusing me in any shape or form (verbal, emotional, mental, physical, sexual, spiritual, etc.) not only doesn't deserve any form of contact with me, but they also will never know happiness as long as they continue to do so and are not worth a single second of my time. If you're on fire, deny it, and on top of that try to set me on fire... why should I bother throwing water on you? Forget that! I am going to pour that water on myself and get far, far away from you!

Once upon a time I imagined that my past abusers had somehow robbed me of something...

Now I know the only person they robbed was their self. I came, I saw, and I have conquered.

Quite an interesting post from someone who didn't know what to write. :P



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