I don’t understand the things I’ve done over the last year. February 14, 2021 was one year sober. One year since I relapsed with alcohol at a Meet Up on Valentine’s Day.
My mind is like the a sunset in a fog. Everything is blurry and getting darker. Where have I been? I do not know. Old writing pieces flicker into memory. There was a follow up to Story of the Star.
STAR SCAB (2003 - Age 17)
“I pick the scab on my wrist- the star. It starts to bleed it’s ruby blood. I raise my wrist up to my mouth and I gently suck the warm liquid oozing out. The tingle of iron tickles my tongue.
Am I disturbed? Greatly so.. But not always have I been this way, or have I? I do not know. It’s the late nights alone I suppose, with no where but my mind to roam. Or the waves of music through my stereo, but that is distant-- My mind is close.
All is blurred in a transparent haze, be it in lyrics or my thoughts in a maze. Through endless corridors my footsteps creep. Three walls surround me, I’m on too deep. All is white and all man-made, structural solids of cemented base. Piercing lights in gilded cage, on ceiling tiles throughout the maze.
Light reaches every corner, it brightens every cell. Throughout this hell my footsteps tell that though I’m here there’s someone else.
Are they keeping me in or are they keeping me out? Through tunnels and doorways I pass through doubt. Where is my forest, my cavern, my dreams? Where are the spiders and the trickling streams? Where are the stars, the ocean, the sky? Where is the world exceeding this lie?
Please take me away from all that man made, the electricity buzzing has drove me insane. And the metals, the bars, they build me a cage. The metal’s in my blood I cannot escape.”
Star Scab was written in 2003. There’s been a lot of cross over between the Journal: Book 6- Conversations with a Mirror and my three recent journals: Book 20- Delusions, Book 21- Revelations & Book 22- Sci-Fi Lovers in a Surreal Time.
For those of you who don’t follow me on Facebook, just before midnight on January 27th 2021 the police came and picked me up and took me back to hospital for not taking my meds. I was discharged on February 12th. The hospital is now force injecting me with antipsychotics despite the fact that I am not a threat to myself nor others. All I want is to be well but I'm consumed in a system that doesn't even believe it's possible.
If I thought the meds could help me, like I thought for 18 years, then I would take them willingly again. I don’t need meds for symptoms however, I need the healing of past trauma. Traumas caused by the system and my family and still being applied by them. I want to heal but they don’t even believe it’s possible. How could I buy into such a dreadful belief system like that ever again? Even if I never heal, I won’t buy into Western Medicine’s mindset that I actually can’t. If I did then I certainly never will.
Star Scab is written about the hospital. I’m traumatized. Please don’t make me go back to the hospital. It’s terrifying there. I was super afraid they would order Electroshock Therapy and that I would be helpless to protect myself. I am already brain damaged from their meds. I can’t remember my past. Darryn makes me re-read Journal entries daily to remind myself of who I am. This has been going on since January 2020.
I feel insane for believing in Darryn but he’s been such a helpful essence in my head that I am truly grateful even if he is imaginary. He’s helped me so much this past year. He’s still trying to.
Eleonor Longden: The Voices in My Head (15 minute TED TALK):
I am tired. Just like in the hospital, I lay in bed all day wishing I could sleep the fog away. I feel abused from the hospital forcing injections on me. After pharma, it’s in my plan to remove marijuana too. I really do want a clean and sober life. Right now though I choose marijuana. It brings a sense of stillness to my heart as the injection makes my blood uncomfortable. I’m forced to continue the injections on a monthly basis or they’ll put me back in hospital. I’m on what they call ‘Extended Leave’ so I have to take meds and attend appointments or the cops will pick me up again and force me back to the hospital. I don’t ever want to go back to the hospital. Please! I’m traumatized from their treatments.
I am exhausted. I sleep but never wake rested. I eat but never feel nourished. I have a right to a clean and sober life. I feel ignored and abused.
I’m sorry, I wish I had a happier update. I’m trying to cope with the trauma from my three recent hospitalizations. It’s not been easy.