Archive for the ‘Neat Neuro Stuff’ Category
I said on Twitter yesterday, without any Internet at home, Blogging from my phone was just too tedious.
Well, maybe not. If I feel some Primordial Urge to write a Post, if I only have my phone, it will be used.
My Title. I think I write about it twice every year when it happens. People who are on the Spectrum–kids too! Go insane by changing a stupid clock an hour forward or backward.
No doubt everyone is blogging about their woes (REALLY FUCKING BAD WOES!) on this Day of Destruction.
I’m soooooooo messed up right now. It hits me hard along with so many others. So when I’m feeling better. Write then? *gurgles*
I kept holding my little AA Chip I got today after my first Meeting. No. I kept holding it ALL DAY.
And crying. And crying. And crying. And crying.
And smoking. And smoking. And smoking. And smoking.
We’ll deal with that addiction later. Although, Sweetie GP has a Clinic to help with that.
Holy, crap! Multiple Doctors working in the same office and they have Clinics to help you with everything and they’re all in the same office.
The building is also a high rise with other occupants. Quite.
This is going to be rambly as all get out. Or get up? Ouch.
I took my meds pretty early hoping to pass out like a bomb. Huh? Passing out wouldn’t sound like a bomb would it? I don’t know. I pass out quietly.
Slow. No? I broke my role of only two Valium a day to three to kick my sleep meds in the arse if they don’t kick in after a long time.
It’s okay that I do this though, kids. No abuse of my meds. All my Doctors know I do this.
Finally! But very fitful. Then a few hours later? 0300hrs? Oh, man!
Had to go to the bathroom but MIGRAINE!!! Gulped my Maxalt but after that, I knew that going back to sleep would be impossible.
I’m so gone. I don’t think I can write anymore. Proofing this will be impossible. I think you guys will get it though.
When my Insomnia gets beyond control, I find I can usually (or possibly?) get some winks before sunrise. Maybe I’ll try that.
Well, it looks like baby MacBook is still refusing to die. If you’re a Mac user, the worst (of several) things you can see is a gray screen with its Folder Icon with a big question mark flashing. DEATH. It’s like a PC’s “Blue Screen of Death” that no Techie can EVER fix.
Well, despite not working on the next attempt at saving it? Here I am typing on it still. Perhaps I should change baby MacBook’s name to baby Lazarus.
Personal Suicide? Hmmm.
Let’s start off with the fact that I have had every discussion about the issue, up down, sideways, backward, forward, diagonally… Discussions? Debates? Arguments?
The right for someone to do it, they’re not in a proper state of mind, leaving ones behind so they’re selfish because pain for others afterward, just plain selfish themselves. What else? Planning beforehand. Who was that guy? Some Professor? He mapped it out for ages and was “in a proper state of mind.”
Or do people not think so?
What about euthanasia? Another one? I’m probably missing more I have “discussed.”
I really am not “Pro-Suicide” but I believe that in some situations, people taking their own lives has some merit. When I was bedridden for 2-3 years, seizing non-stop, completely sick in terms of other parts of my body and losing my life–my prior life that I may not ever regain? Not being able to do the things I could before because of my questionable condition?
I flat out told my mother that I would take my own life. I would kill myself because I would refuse to live my life as it was for n period of time. I did tell her that it was n period of time. I didn’t know the future so I would decide on my own.
“Discuss” that one folks. However, I got better (although not completely to my prior life) before n period. Thus, I didn’t have to make the decision. Was I like the Professor? I had a plan? Roughly? Was I not in a proper state of mind?
Maybe I’m the only one who knows. Nonetheless, I didn’t do anything did I?
Doing something. Proper state of mind. Planning beforehand. This is tough.
For those of you who don’t know, in the beginning of 2011 I made a suicide attempt. And a big one.
Not that this is a “Suicide Guide Blog” but pissing about with chucking a bottle of pills (which I don’t advise) down your throat will only make you sick. I’ve done it twice.
On the aforementioned date, I don’t even know how many drugs (aka pills from my many bottles of meds) I gulped down with a bottle of Red Wine.
If you care to look at my Page: “Been There, Done That…Psych Med, Lab Rat!” it not only lists all of the meds I’ve been on but updates at the end once I started to get on different meds to find a cocktail to stabilize me. The majority at the top were ADs that I cannot take being Bipolar. Some Bipolar folks can take them but they make me even worse.
That time, the only thing I remember was shoving loads of pills down my throat, trying to get help, saying fuck it, taking more until I felt unbelievably sick. Memory gone.
Then I was found by one of the tenants in our house in the snow with no coat on. Sound weird? Later, I pieced it all together. Complex partial seizure. I’m always unconscious (lack of clothing) injuries on hand, torn clothing and maybe a tonic-clonic that followed (not uncommon) because I had a massive TBI. Straight to the ER, straight to the ICU. In a coma for a few days.
Why did I do this? Life was sucky, but there was a specific reason. And this reason had been on my mind for a long time. Was I impulsive like my two prior attempts by throwing bottles of my meds down my throat with wine as a chaser, or did I think it was, “the right time.”
Because if I had the idea why for so long, was it really impulsive? Could I have not been in a proper state of mind for so long? It’s possible. Your mind can do strange things. Perhaps the attempt was an attempt to try and escape that situation? I couldn’t bear it after so long?
Maybe I’m the only one who knows. Nonetheless, I did do something, didn’t I?
I suffered a lot from it obviously. I’ve been told I’m actually lucky to be alive. I always say I did die. For without having the life support of the ICU I would have been dead. Yes, I was fully intubated and on a respirator, another tube up my nose for more support.
Crap! Cough and remove the tube from inside, cuts on the side of my mouth! It’s all taped to your face. Thoracic.
But I don’t remember any of that. Well, fabric restraints in case I woke up, all out of mind and tried to pull, tear everything off me and being intubated! If I ripped that out of me? Possible uhhhh…damage?
But the biggest thing is I have both Retrograde and Anterograde Amnesia regarding the entire thing. None of those memories are ever coming back.
Even when I awoke from the coma, everyone thought I was all conscious and “there.” Not at all. I only remembered a guy from the Psych. Ward wearing a light blue Golf Shirt.
Then I was gone again–even though I was talking. And it continued. Even after I was discharged. Just a few pieces of things that happened retained.
It’s kind of rare to have both Retrograde and Anterograde Amnesia at the same time. That is to say surrounding one event? I believe so.
Would I attempt suicide again? Yes, I might. That has always been written on this blog in Post after Post. I’ve never made it a secret. I am mentally ill! Or I have mental health issues, if you prefer. They’re not going away. Neither is my life in living with them.
In fact, I was desperatey suicidal last night. I fought so hard to just jump off my balcony! That wouldn’t have killed me. Just broken me up a bit. Snapped a lot of bones and such.
I’ve been skydiving so I know how to do a PLF. That’s what I would have done. So I really wouldn’t have died. I just wished that I actually would have.
I was Tweeting that this would be the FINAL TIME. Yes. THE LAST TIME I would get sober. As they say, “You can’t trust an addict?”
Well, I don’t like that phrase so much. Just because you have an addiction doesn’t mean you can’t be trusted AT ALL. That is sublimely ridiculous as sublimely you feel when on the high of your addiction of choice. Maybe you can only be “untrusted” in certain ways and ONLY at certain times.
/rant (I know, that’s totally not even used anymore.)
Alright. Some my grand idea was to post every day (if I can) what I’m going through with my Detox and Withdrawal. Dr. PA has done this how many times?
But kids? Don’t try this at home. Go to a proper Detox Facility. It’s sounds hypocritical I know, but Dr. PA (even thought she is not a real doctor!) can do it safely and properly.
Tonight: I just quit drinking and not even to my normal level of alcohol intake. I’m madly drunk. It was half my intake. I have smoking like a fiend. A total chain smoker. My “normal” smoking habits were NEVER like that! I had one cigarette left.
That sets the scene.
I’m exhausted. I just about crashed out despite spinny head when I lied down and put my head on a pillow. Wha?
Detox and Withdrawal makes you EXTREMELY tired. One time I almost slept for 24 hours. And yet, it can also give you KILLER INSOMNIA!!! One night I took my sleep meds, watched TV and then the Sunrise. It was lovely. I hadn’t seen the Sun poke up in its pretty colours in YEARS!
Right now I feel like I want to BARF. Yeah. Mega-Nausea. Mega-DIARRHEA and/or Mega-CONSTIPATION too! Who knows? And none of it makes any sense because well…food intake can be TOTALLY DISGUSTING just at the thought of it, or you can feel completely RAVENOUS and want to eat your entire LIVING SPACE!!!
I certainly don’t want to eat right now. Well, maybe? Oh, NO WAY! NO FOOD.
KILLER HEADACHES! I have one and no ibuprophen! Tough it out!
Am I PARANOID yet? I don’t know what Paranoia feels like. But sometimes I feel kind of weird or weirded out. Hard to explain. I’ll try to do that later. Sometimes my kitchen looks…”odd?” It looks weird now.
DTs. Paranoia goes with that, but I do with this Non-Arsey Neuro. Very basic test. Sit comfortably and stretch arms out. Shaky? Unbalanced? Let’s check. Oh, I am SO unbalanced! My hands look like two birds flying in the air!
Okay. I think I need to rest. That’s some past stuff and current, as in right now. Hey, I always blog when in hospital so this is just a hospital for one!
HEADACHE TO BAD TO PROOFREAD: PHOTOPHOBIA!!!
Oh yes! Emotions! OMFG. When I came home, I had an Asperger’s Mini-Meltdown. Yay.
I AM SERIOUS! SHOULD I WRITE EVERYTHING IN UPPER CAPS?
No, really. I mentioned in my last Post, blah, blah, blah…the changes to the Addiction Program and the final step of three weeks staying Inpatient in Happy Hospital. If I could get on the Happy Hospital Bus right now, I’d jump as high as could to get on it!
Of course I was drinking before break up business tonight. That’s a given. For a lot of people. Break ups stink so lots of people drink! So no brainer with me being an alcoholic.
Now I’m “experimenting” with what would happen, and how might Extended Release ADD Meds would work as Coke. Or a Party Drug or whatever. That would be more like an Immediate Release type of ADD Med.
Holy shit. Am I really giving advice on how to get high from your script meds? Pardon the irresponsible addict who really doesn’t give a shit right now.
PSA: Kids and adults, don’t do this at home or in a cab or at a rave or in a public library or while painting your apartment or while shopping for a car or shopping period. Don’t do it if you’re a woman when you get your period.
I could continue for years but the only place that’s okay to do it, is on the street.
MoFoHoPro on that street, I need
want need want need…yeah, you get it. A DRINK!!!
So back to the ADD/Coke “experiment.” Easy for me as I take Biphentin. It’s a capsule with tiny little balls in it. Swallow? Snort?
Joke’s on you!!! I HAVE ADD!!! I can’t get all whacked out on stims and Coke or whatever! I’m already on stims. If ingest Coke or any stimulants (like more ADD meds?) the only thing that happens is my mind becomes a bit sharper, and I can focus more while everybody else is getting whooped to the ceiling fan.
So AD(H)D Kids and Adults? Don’t bother trying. Unless your AD(H)D brain actually gets off on the stuff. Use as you choose–however, at your very dangerous peril.
DON’T FUCK WITH YER MEDS!!!
Okay, fuck this bullshit. Short Post NOW. I spent two days with a fried Withdrawal brain to write something, maybe not such trash as this? My mobile ate it. The WP app. online ate it. Bite me technology.
My Blog triggers me? Being in the Online World triggers me? PA what the gadamman stupid bile is comin’ outta yer mauth and dribblin’ down yer face now!
What a load of shit! That is the craziest thing I’ve EVER said about taking a break from blogging. This probably IS therapeutic in some way. I’m not this ball of total madness and sickness, holed up alone merely staring at things in my apartment. I just can’t do a lot of stuf…zzzzzzzzzz…
Perhaps a case of the DTs? They’re pretty bad this time around. One really significant sign is if your feeling paranoid. The word “Paranoid” does not appear in my Mental Dossier. However, how much external stuff was going on? I made the decision. It was about me.
Can you be paranoid of yourself? About yourself? I’m not excluding DID folks; they apply in the discussion as well. I’m just thinking of the raw, basics sort of way.
If there’s anyone out there who knows what it’s like for them to feel paranoid or have ongoing repeated episodes of paranoia, I’d like to hear from you. Of course this is only if you feel comfortable talking about it! Also, if you want to talk but you don’t want to leave a Comment on my Blog in response here, you can definitely feel free to email me. No secrets leave my lips so you’ll be safe. I promise.
So CRAZY PA is back! Be forewarned though. You’re dealing with a very sick PA. I’m not looking for sympathy. I’ve been an alcoholic and an addict for 20 years now. The best thing is I’m finally going to try and get treatment. I wish I could back in time for so many apologies, broken hearts, broken trusts and destroyed relationships.
Be Forewarned. Seriously. I have no idea what is going to happen here, other places where I’m online. Also, what could not happen. Perhaps the only thing I do know is that I’ll be very slow. You will be on earth and I will be circling the rings of Saturn.
Speaking of circling those rings, this Detox and Withdrawal are bringing out my other diagnoses and mental lunacy to epic proportions as well. My Asperger’s level? I’m just stimming and doing all those WEIRD Aspie things we can do all the time. My hypervigilance? I have NO clue how high it is because yesterday felt like a Panic Attack that lasted THE.WHOLE.DAY.
I’m not joking. It did feel like that!!! o_O I also don’t get Panic Attacks. Some kind of DT-ism/Paranoia-ism?
Okay. Gravol, Valium, Bed. Try to rest and be calm as Therapy tomorrow. Not like she’d care if I’m all SPAZZZYYY and I look like a zombie that’s actually living and doesn’t like to eat heads. She’s my bloody Therapist! I just want to try and rest for me.
And cuddle up with my Bedbugs. They make me look like I have hives. Yay for that too.
I have been wanting these forever. They would have cost me hundreds of dollars. They just kept being put on the back burner because my body kept falling apart. These “things” and what I hoped they would reveal, related to almost 100 years ago. Long before my body started
decided started to fall apart. That’s the loss of the Clobazam story.
I was “just fine” that 100 years ago… Letting all that frustration out with a 2L bottle of Red Wine, a lot of bottles of pills full and shiny and new. Pick what you’d like but you’re too tired so you just grab the ones that are close enough.
The ANSWER!!! No money! Doctors don’t have to pay a penny to get a patient’s records transferred from anywhere! All I had to do was scrawl my signature on a Release Form. And so I did.
From the above, it’s pretty obvious I attempted suicide. I even landed in the ICU for a few days. I also developed a MASSIVE TBI. I also developed SEVERE ANTEROGRADE AND RETROGRADE AMNESIA. Although I don’t think that’s so much to do with the MASSIVE TBI. I think it’s more to do with the MASSIVE OVERDOSE OF MY MEDS.
Today I picked up what they sent from Sweetie GPs Office. She wasn’t in but it didn’t matter. I just got them to make me copies. However, it might matter now. There might be enough holes in all the paperwork as in my head surrounding it.
I’ve been staring at the pages forever, and now I’ve had a chance to do some preliminary research on what the hell I did to myself. Not to mention a few of the cascading events that took me (further) into a downward spiral?
I haven’t had time to go over all of my labs. A lot more complicated, but there were even levels of a drug in me that I wasn’t taking anymore! That’s just one insane thing! I don’t even know if I should go on! It’s the Depakene I quit. I quit it a long time ago, until I decided to leave this shitty-assed, fuck me over any way you want to, I don’t care world.
At least that’s how I saw it at the time.
I was found outside in the winter with no coat and my body temperature was 33.8 degrees Celsius. I figured out days later how I fell (seizure) due to clothes and injury on hands and it was a tonic-clonic (TBI.) Presumably a Complex-partial first because what the hell was I doing wandering around without my coat in the freezing snow?
Found totally unresponsive. I must have been breathing though (at the hospital.) I could have already been a coma when the Paramedics picked me up but still breathing. However, in the ER, it said I had a Complex partial and a tonic clonic when admitted. I’m confused but I’m unconscious for both anyway?
So, I guess then I took an absolute nosedive? Sorry, bad pun for a TBI… Immediate 7.5 Endotrachial Tube and BANG! Straight to the ICU and get a machine to breathe for me.
If you know the Glasgow Coma Scale (sorry, too tired to give you a link) I was already a 3 IN the ER! That’s why I’m kinda thinking I was already in a coma when they picked me up. Or I was pretty damn close to losing it–because I lost it in the ER.
I’ll just add this in before I “go.” I couldn’t believe it when I read it. I was SO FUCKED UP they had to call the Poison Control Centre for a consultation. An actual medical consultation. Not a rinse your eyes, drink milk and go to the ER consultation. A bloody Hospital calling Poison Control.
Oh, and my heart got really messed up too. It required extremely, vigilant monitoring in case it stopped.
Kids, don’t do this at home.
It’s not a pleasant thing to go through. Even now that I’ve gotten these records to “help” me? They’ve only increased my memory loss and made me MORE confused.