#how psychiatric medications react

[transmutationisms]

Hey, I've been delving into anti psychiatry readings but one thing always stands out to me: if there is no underlying disease behind a depressive state, for example, how does that new paradigm not end up placing the blame on the patient? I ask in good faith as I still don't have a clear answer on that regard, and would like to have better conversations about this topic that don't end when people tell me of a close relative with depression who has seemingly had a life free of traumas that could otherwise present as depression.

-materialist (marxist) anti psychiatry identifies the root 'cause' or basis of psychological experiences in the economic and material conditions of existence. depression or other forms of distress, just like other affective states, derive fundamentally from the world we live in, our political situation, the material alienation of estranged labour that underlies 'alienation' the psychological state. this doesn't mean that resolving the contradictions of capitalism (that is, workers' revolution) will magically eliminate all sources of distress, depression, or other currently pathologised experiences. however, it would certainly resolve / eliminate some distress for some people; additionally, it is the only way to overcome the capitalist paradigm that values people by their adherence to a normative standard of ability, which is what renders depressed people (for example) economically marginalised 'failed citizens'

-keeping the above in mind, i would question whether there is really such thing as a person who 'has no trauma' ie, has no material basis for alienation, depression, or distress. capitalism is an estranging system, including for the owner class (though of course this occurs in a different way to the labouring class, and i am not suggesting that the bourgeoisie are the 'victims' of capitalism or some such)

-none of the above is mutually exclusive with the role that an individual's neurobiology plays in their subjective or psychological state. like any base/superstructure phenomenon, the relationship is dialectical, with the material base generally dominating, but both acting on and being affected by superstructural phenomena. economic and material conditions lead to subjective experiences such as depressions; these experiences are also instantiated in, reacting to, and reacted upon by the physiological processes in the brain/body. however, when we say that depression (for example) is not a disease we mean that there is no biological entity---no infectious pathogen, no 'chemical imbalance', no organic lesion, no anatomical defect or physiological malfunction---that is identifiable as a single cause or correlate of depressed states, nor will there ever be; the psychiatric label is a heuristic catch-all applied to a constellation of experiences (symptoms) that are varying degrees of disagreeable to individuals (patients) as well as to medical and state authorities

-i think it's overly credulous to the psychiatric profession to assert that calling something a disease means that no one can 'blame the patient' for it. in fact i would say it would be difficult to name a disease that doctors, state authorities, and society at large does NOT blame on patients

-i also think it's overly credulous to the psychiatric profession to assert that there is a dichotomy between neurobiological diseases and things that are individual faults or failings. in fact i would posit that most subjective experiences, including of distress, are neither

[draconym]

I don't know much about meds but I know that there's something wrong with me. I'm depressed all the time and I no longer do the things I love to do. I have anxiety that keeps me up at night, mostly due to repetitive obsessive thoughts. My whole life feels like it's on a loop. All I do is work and come home, and stay in the house on my days off. What medication options are there for me? Obviously you're not a medical professional (I think) but knowing some options might help me ask a doctor to look into them.

I am definitely not qualified to recommend medications to you. There is a LOT of individual variation in how people react to any given medication--psychiatric or not. I am allergic to at least one common painkiller, which gives me psychological side effects. Other people warned me against the (very effective for me) medication I'm currently taking because they had bad experiences with it. So I don't think I'm able to offer any info that searching for "types of antidepressants" wouldn't get you.

But I will say that it sounds like you are going through a really hard time and you should definitely bring it up to a doctor AND your friends. The human animal can and will normalize terrible conditions, but feeling depressed and anxious all the time are signs that something needs to change, whether it's in your environment or in your body. If you have a PCP, try asking to be evaluated for depression and anxiety, maybe OCD. Tell people close to you that you're having a hard time.

Lastly, I'm gonna recommend the You Feel Like Shit website as a self-care to-do list for when you know you feel bad but you're not sure if there's anything you can do about it.

Shit sucks. Sometimes it helps just to know that you really are doing your best and you don't deserve to feel this way.

[schizopositivity]

One thing I've learned over the years of being diagnosed with schizophrenia is how to tell if a person is safe to tell your diagnosis too. This is purely anecdotal and is just to try to limit the awkward, rude, invasive, weird or threatening reactions from people. I cannot guarantee this but it could be a start, and if any other schizophrenic person wants to add on please do!

Anyway here's how I tell when I should not tell someone I'm schizophrenic:

• they misuse words like "psychotic" "psycho" "delusional" etc.

• when they don't like someone they insult them by calling them "crazy" "insane" "deranged" etc.

• they don't believe in mental illnesses, they may think it is something that is actually spiritual/religious, it's the person's own fault, or it is only caused by societal factors

• they don't believe in prescription medication, they believe it's a scam, they think they are evil, or they think are automatically oppressive for everyone

• they react rudely to seeing people on the street talking to someone that isn't actually there like laughing at them, filming them, or calling the cops on them

Here's how I tell that I think it's safe to tell someone I am schizophrenic:

• they talk openly about mental health without looking down on mentally ill people

• they talk openly about psychiatric medication and other treatments in a no judgmental way

• they have an open mind and are willing to listen to new perspectives

• they are inclusive and willing to learn more and change their language or behavior to be more respectful

• they show care/concern/respect to people who talk to someone who isn't actually there

[downundergarfield]

Support classes reaction to reader getting jealous? Like the merc is getting a lot of attention from like idfk a group of women getting gas at a gas station and reader is just like : |

Support classes react to a reader getting jealous!

It's something to think about, so keep these three men In awkward situations, I know you like to watch it.

Medic It smelled of blood and meat. This is not surprising, because you spent time with your favorite psychiatric doctor. The man was collecting someone's insides in a container. Fortunately for him, this someone will not wake up, it will not cause problems. You were sitting with him, on the lookout. The door, the existence of which you did not even know, opened with an unpleasant creak. Ludwig yelped, covering his crime with his back, you slowly approached him. "-Oh, there you are, Dr. Doe! I've been looking for you everywhere! And you, of course, were here, well, how else! You are a real doctor, a real master of your path!" This girl was making eyes at Ludwig from the very beginning. And of course she fell for his fake name. "- uh… well… Actually, I'm busy." "- of course, of course! I understand, I don't dare to distract you, I just would like to spend a little more time with you. You're leaving soon…and we would…you know… We could have done something in my office." She was already snuggling up to him and running her finger along his chest, but you intervened, speaking to her in a completely unfriendly tone "- Dr. Doe doesn't need a secretary for his job." You spoke up, looking at her angrily. Obviously, you're jealous, which only made Ludwig worry more "- Fräulein, actually, I have a girlfriend" The unpleasant personality changed dramatically in her face, obviously, she saw her plans crumble into thousands of pieces right before her eyes "- Oh, is that so? I was hoping it was just a friend of yours. Well, I think I'll go. I have urgent matters to attend to.." The girl hurries to the exit. Before leaving, she throws a tearful glance in the direction of the Medic "you broke my heart, Dr. Doe-" She waves her hair and locks the door. You can feel Ludwig exhaling all the accumulated air in his lungs. And how anger boils inside you, rising to your face. "- Gott sei Dank…" "- WHAT A SLU-" "- shh. She's gone, but that's half the tro-. " "-I really hope she doesn't look at you anymore." You interrupted him with a frustrated face. "-…Of course not! I only love you, and some girl won't change my mind. Besides, she doesn't have such a beautiful body like you." He puts his arm around your waist and then looks at the pile of organs in the container. "-Ve still need to get zese organs out unnoticed.." You nod. Yeah, he's damn right.

Sniper The brainy figure shakes while his van hurriedly drives along a deserted road. It was unbearably hot outside, so Mick was left wearing only his vest. Anything is better than his entire working form. You were steaming in just a T-shirt and shorts. On the other hand, you enjoyed each other's appearance. "- need t` refuel." "- alright!" You're moving on, to the nearest gas station. And fortunately, it appears soon. You pull into the gas station, noticing a pink mini-bus next to one of the gas pumps. Girls in swimsuits were hanging around. You're tense. "- what is it?" "- bet it's just a busload of prostitutes." You were silent for a minute, but Mick interrupted the silence by opening the door. You jumped out after him. He inserted the refueling gun and looked at his watch. It seems that no one noticed you and was not going to bother you, so you relaxed. "- I'm going to get some water."

He nodded curtly, and you walked away past the noisy girls. They smelled of a disgusting cloying perfume. Disgustingly feminine music was playing from their bus. The disgusting pink color irritated your nerves, but you didn't say anything. ----

In your hands were bottles of cold, even icy water and one ice block. There were no girls in sight, thank God, but when you approached the van, it became clear to you where they had gone. The Sniper did a good job, he didn't give them any attention, even if the girls climbed under his vest. He beat those hands painfully, but did not give an answer. "- WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE??!" The girls looked at you like a flock of seagulls. "- Not every guy at the gas station is lonely man, NOW LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!!" "- you managed to snatch a gorgeous male~" One of the girls blurted out, poking you in the nose and they left, chattering something in squeaky voices. Mick exhaled, growling. You patted him on the back. " 'm sorry…" It seems he felt a lot of guilt for this situation "- it's not your fault, Mickey, they just need a rich guy who can pay them all." "- I know… but I'm sorry…anyway." You pat him on the back again, comforting him. He smiles warmly and is clearly calming down. "- thank you, sheila." "- no worries. Would you like a popsicle?"

Spy It was a hot Friday evening, even stuffy. You had a long weekend ahead of you. And of course the Spy wouldn't be the Spy if he didn't decide to spend his weekend with a glass of fine wine. You went with him, and he immediately warned you that there could be quite rich people there, who often turn up their noses so high that they don't see people under them. You said you'd be careful with him and he smiled warmly, scratching the top of your head. The Frenchman finished styling your hair while you picked out your best clothes. He praised your costume/dress and you finally came out. When you arrived at the liquor store, you admired its beauty. It was neatly built of a dark-grade of some kind of wood, the logs were hewn and beautiful patterns were neatly burned on them. When you went inside, a rather pleasant smell of wood and wine hit your nose. You glanced at the spy and he looked confident and pleased. You walked between the shelves for a long time and every time you were amazed at the number of wines that generally happen in this damn world. A note of unpleasant bitter feeling settled in your chest when a buxom lady in a black ball gown and curly hair approached your man and began to ask about something. "- you look like a person who understands this, what kind of wine can you recommend?" To your indignation, the Spy answered her, consulted her, communicated with a warm smile. You're not used to seeing him like this. Maybe he is callous and tired only in front of his colleagues? It's because they're all men in a row, isn't it? Or maybe the smell of wine just hit him in the head and that was enough for intoxication? It didn't bother you at all. When the girl left, thanking the Spy for the consultation, you pulled the sleeve of his suit. He understood everything from your displeased face. "- oh, don't do that, Mon chéri, you know that I only love you. The lady just needed advice." He gently pats you on the cheek and the feeling of his gloves on your skin more or less soothe you. "- let's not linger here." "- well, bien Mon amour, I just chose what to take~.

[psychabolition]

Why and how do you reject diagnoses , treatment and recovery?

The why is answered quickly ,. For a lot of us "treatment" doesnt help or actively harms us . Its not uncommon to face psychiatric abuse as part of your treatment plan: including conversion therapy, physical violence, social ostracization /isolation, stigmatization or severe side effects from psychiatric drugs which can include brain damage and death .

So how do we stop thinking that we need treatment from professionals to feel better and to lead a life that we enjoy when we know it doesnt help us ? The biomedical model and its logic make us feel this way. We're told that we have an illness that causes our pain and that can only be treated by doctors and psychologists. But this model is inherently contradictory and that we have an "illness" thats the cause of our pain has never even been scientifically proven . If youre labelled with depression you dont have low serotonin, if youre labelled with schizophrenia theres no genetic defect, if youre labelled as adhd/autism your brain doesnt look different than the brain of people without the label. "mental disorders" are not an "illness" by medical standards.

Also, the logic of the model doesnt really make sense. Your 'mental illness' can never "cause" anything because its solely a descriptive label (every psychologist will admit this !! - all diagnoses are just a list of descriptions of specific behaviors/experiences/ways of thinking), its never the reason for anything. I think we need to avoid the circular logic of "well i do x because i have y condition (which was diagnosed based on clinician observations of x) and my brain is simply broken in a way requiring me to submit to expert clinical management and surveillance". I think its highly misleading to talk about symptoms of an illness since saying 'I am suicidal because Im depressed' is the same as saying 'Im suicidal because Im suicidal'(remember: its only a descriptive label!!) - it doesnt explain anything. I think its really unhelpful and also simply not scientifically backed up to think about any experiences/struggles/distress that we have no matter how unusual/painful/norm deviation as an 'illness' of our minds/brains.

The way I depathologize myself and reject the (bio)medical model is by saying that I think of a lot of the experiences that got me diagnosed and that also made me label myself as "ill/disordered" as simply a deviation from "neuronormativity" (=whats societally deemed 'normal' to think/feel/do depending on your assigned gender/age/socioeconomic status/...). So when I say that "Im neurodivergent" what I mean is that I "deviate from neuronormativity". And when people are not neurodivergent I say that theyre "neuroconform" - which simply means that they manage to conform to what society expects of them .

If you define neurodivergency in this way it includes 1) suffering more severely in our current society than others do 2) being neurodivergent because of positive experience and/or negative experiences that youve made 3) your neurodivergency also includes experiences that havelnothing to do with the reason why you got labelled as ill/sick/dysfunctional/disordered . Like being politically radical in some way - like for example if youre a communist or an anarchist or queer or simply just very different and norm deviating . 4) it includes queerness that is currently pathologized (I like to use the concept neuroqueer).

These new concepts and understanding of myself made me get better in the sense that I trusted again, after years, that only I know whats best for myself . And to be true medication and therapy has only ever harmed me and made me get worse. I can now ask myself whats actually causing my pain and struggles, and its never been my own brain that simply " reacts wrong " . When Im doing really bad it always has a real cause in my real life and theres always something that can be done (even if this means overthrowing the current social order in society)

[chick-with-wifi]

Meta: Shaw doesn't need god mode

Shaw is the only main character who has never been in god mode (Root in 2x22 then periodically throughout the series, Reese in 2x22 and 4x22, Finch from 5x10 onwards) and this is because, due to her skills and style of operating, she doesn't need it.

She is extremely observant, so would receive no benefit from the Machine's updates about her surroundings. For example, she reads the room in 5x11 ("That guy has a bum leg, the one by the door still has the safety on, and she hasn't stopped shaking since she raised her gun.") with the same level of detail as the information the Machine gives out ("Sharp right leg. Left knee, ACL. Tactical blade. Glass jaw." 4x22). 

This extends to awareness of approaching threats, so she doesn't require the Machine to tell her where to aim. In 2x22 when Reese is in god mode, she shoots an approaching enemy at the same time as him and continues to help throughout the scene. In 3x01 she uses two guns to take down a group of enemies, leaving them a groaning heap on the ground, much like Root does with help from the Machine in 3x10. 

She achieves this through a mixture of quick reflexes and precise aiming, as shown through her shooting an enemy after seeing his shadow under the door in 2x16, shooting a perpetrator who is using a victim as a human shield by aiming through his jacket in 3x05 and reacting instantly when a sniper's red dot appears on Root in 3x21. 

This ability to rapidly assess her environment and move with exact timing also factors into her signature move of sneaking up on people, demonstrated when she both appears and disappears on Reese in 2x21.

Shaw is excellent at reading people and gleans a lot of information from using this skill, so does not require any additional input from the Machine. In 2x21, she makes deductions easily from Reese's body language ("Can you track him? How? You put a bug on your friend?"). In 3x05, she can tell when Gen is lying ("There is no Agent Cross.") and later knows exactly what to say to persuade Gen to give her the location of the tapes ("I'm a spy too, remember?"). In 4x11, she is able to talk the bomber out of detonating his vest.

She also demonstrates incredible strategic planning, exemplified by her escape from Samaritan in 5x08 ("It's not like I'm gonna spill a glass of water on the nightstand, stomp on your foot, throw an elbow to your chin, and stick you with that sedative.") which parallels Root's escape from the psychiatric facility in 3x03 with the Machine's help ("First the phone on your desk will ring. She'll be letting me know it's time. Then I'll punch you in the carotid artery. It'll hurt, Ronald, but it won't kill you. Then I'll take your car keys.").

Her plans involve reacting in the moment and maximizing the resources available to her, so any further instructions would be a distraction. She does this both in smaller ways, such as taking the enemy's radio in 2x16 to keep updated on their movements and using her gun cartridge as a mirror to look down the hallway in 3x05.

And in larger ways, for example in 2x16 when she needs a place to lay low and get supplies, she kidnaps a drug dealer and uses their base of operations, likely because they won't call the police on her. In 3x05, she repeatedly ignores Finch's instructions to get medical help and instead follows the trail of clues stemming from a packet of drugs to successfully track down the people who took Gen, while stealing supplies from an ambulance and giving herself a blood transfusion in the field.

In conclusion, Shaw works best when given an objective and the freedom to choose for herself how to complete it. The ISA worked like this ("My call. We had the cesium. Seemed like the best way to cover our tracks." 2x16) and she excelled at it, as evidenced by Wilson calling her his "best operator" (2x16) and Hersh saying "Shaw is one of our best. Trained her myself. You're not gonna find her until she wants to be found." (2x16). In this episode Finch also asks her to stop running "because you're much too good at it and we can't keep up."

This makes her a very valuable asset to Team Machine, which is particularly well demonstrated in 4x11 when Shaw's arrival makes their chance of survival skyrocket from single digits to over 20%.

[lost-spoons]

I'm honestly not sure if I've mentioned this on here before, but here we go.

I've been looking into getting a service dog for a few years. What breed would be best for the tasks I need, if I should get a program trained dog or if I should owner train, what it costs to get said service dog and anything they need or would like, how to take care of a dog, what are the laws around service dog prospects and housing, what are the laws for service dogs, etc. etc.

Up until now, it's all been more of a thought experiment than anything else because my father established a "No Dogs Under My Roof" policy a long time ago, and despite a service dog being medical equipment, the answer to if I could get one is a hard "Not Under My Roof"

But! We're finally down to the last year or two of community college before I transfer to a 4 year where I'll be living on my own and can thus get a dog. So I'll be looking into breeders to see what their wait lists are like and check to make sure the breeder I decide to go with is actually an ethical breeder.

I've debated on breeds for a while. Poodles are hypoallergenic but require a lot of hair maintenance and will matte up fairly quickly if I forget to brush them due to a flare-up, so they're a no. Doberman seemed like a good fit as they met most of my requirements. However, I was informed that they're a velcro breed that are very protective, which makes sense since they are breed to be guard dogs, but that doesn't work if i need a strangers help. Goldens and labs are quite similar in most things regarding my list of requirements but didn't end up being my final choice.

I've decided to go with German Shepherds for the breed, as I need mobility, medical alert, and psychiatric tasks. That's quite a bit for one dog, but German Shepherds are breed specifically to be working dogs with varying jobs, so while I'll need to be careful with training to keep them from burning out as a puppy, they're my best bet.

I've decided on owner training supplemented with a professional trainer's support/assistance.

The mobility tasks in question aren't weight bareing, and even if they were, I'm aware that type of training doesn't start before the vet okays it around 2 or so years old. Sometimes, my vision stops working, or I'll get horribe brain fog making me very confused, and I can't bend down to pick things up off the floor unless I'm sitting, so think along those lines for mobility tasks.

The medical alert is for POTS and maybe migraines. I'm not sure how migraine alerts work yet, i still need to look into that one, but I know how to do the POTS ones.

The psychiatric tasks are to tell me if I'm displaying anxious habits cause I don't notice them and can't feel when I am due to a disconnect in my brain from physical reaction and emotional reaction. I react physically but can't emotionally, which means i can have the bodily reaction of a panic attack and all the issues that creates but I think im perfectly fine. Which is oh so fun to deal with (can you hear the sarcasm?) Plus a few other things I don't feel like sharing that I need help with.

If anyone has anything helpful to add, please do. I've looked into things, but research can only get you so far

[sapphos-darlings]

A certain strangeness has become obvious to me through detransitioning, and it's that for the first time, I'm well and truly aware that other people have very strong opinions about my body and who I am or should be and what that means for how I should be presenting myself.

At home, I have a wonderful bisexual partner who loves me for me, which includes the traits of me that are atypical for my birth sex. Particularly, they love the little facial hair I grow - and, to my surprise, got very sad when I shaved it for a trip to the capital. Of course I did, the same way I'll wear something that isn't my pyjamas when showing up in public for more than a trip to the store, but to them, this was a loss of something, and upsetting on a level that I hadn't expected. A silly thing, from both perspectives, they admit to this and there is no real pressure for me to show up as a caveman to the outside world, and in this case, it was a very positive and reassuring experience of someone having preferences for my body, because hair is something I grow naturally and my partner's reaction reinforced that this is not unwanted or ugly, which is a message I perhaps would expect from most people.

When I brought this up to my mother, however, she immediately reacted strongly in the opposite. She told me, very straightforwardly, that the facial hair that I grow is unsightly and I should get it plucked or lasered. I'm sorry, what? I spent four years of my life taking masculinising hormones so that I could grow facial hair and this is the best I could do and you'll tear it from my cold dead hands, thank you very much. She's also told me that my leg hair, as fine as it is, is horrible and I should shave it off. Why? Why should I? The only venue at which I present my hairy legs at is my own home. The hair that I grow hardly bothers anybody, and if she doesn't want to see it then maybe she shouldn't be looking when she comes over once every two months or so for a couple of days. She's entering my space, voluntarily - I'm not going to shave my legs for my own goddamn mother and if she can't deal with my body existing in its natural state then that seems like something she might need to go to therapy over, not my problem to deal with.

At a doctor's appointment, recently, as terrible as it was, I was trying to have changes made to my SSRI medication because the side-effects of it were driving me up the wall. Instead, this doctor diverted the discussion to her own personal problems with me.

"I was expecting a male patient. Are you changing your sex?"

No, ma'am, I am not. Sorry about the misleading name but that has nothing to do with my medication's array of side-effects. I had to explain to her that I am a born female, tried transitioning but it didn't work out because my body is extremely determined to stay female thank you very much, and that I am not male, never was, and I'm most definitely not MtF, not that it has any goddamn relevance to, again, my medication - which we never got around to discussing, because she did not care.

I ended up lowering my dose without supervision and dealing with the withdrawals to get rid of the worst of it, since clearly the psychiatric unit was not interested in helping me out with the issues I was having.

This is extremely jarring to me, because prior to detransitioning, I never faced issues like this. Now it feels like I'm questioned left and right about who I am and why I have a name like this and why I look like this and people feel entitled to opinions about my body and my appearance in ways that they never did before transition or during transition. When I was transitioning, I had few encounters in terms of people asking about my transition - but when they did, they were positive encounters. The most common one was chatty nurses during my million urgent care visits during that time, where they'd carefully sniff out how I felt about discussing my transition as a topic, and often fell into a casual, friendly conversation about how it all works, because I was never averse to talking about it and they were often dealing with the first trans patient of their careers, so it was the first time for them to be able to hear how it all worked and what it was like. It was never a negative experience, and nobody ever commented on how I looked, how I presented myself, etc.

And now it feels like that has been flipped on its head. Everyone has an opinion on my body, who I am, how I'm showing up. I should be doing this differently, I should look different, I should wear different clothes, I should have a different name.

I'm grateful to the people - my partner, my friends - who truly accept that I am who I am and I look the way I do and this is a positive thing for all of us. The rest of these people, I need them to, frankly, piss off about my body and identity. None of your fucking business how much hair I have on me or what my name is. Deal with it.

[xenodile]

Bad news everyone, I might potentially be homeless!

Long story short, around the start of this year, my dad's mental state took a pretty bad turn. I don't know the exact cause, if he's suffering from mental illness, or he's just given up all pretense of being a decent person, but he's more or less made it impossible to live with him.

It started with him coming home early from work and throwing an actual screaming tantrum, saying he can't live with the tension in the house between me and him, because I confessed in October of last year that I delayed coming out as trans because I was afraid of how he would react and what he would do to me. When I explained the laundry list of reasons why I didn't trust or feel safe around him, this made him angrier, denying did anything wrong, blaming me for feeling the wrong way, and demanding I forgive him for the things he didn't do that made my childhood utterly miserable. He essentially gave me an ultimatum of just..."letting go" of all my childhood trauma and giving him no accountability, or being kicked out because he "doesn't deserve" to be held responsible for his actions.

The situation was eventually deescalated, but tension remained in the house, and before long, started to be redirected at my mom. Over the past year, my dad grew increasingly hostile and confrontational about the most trivial things. Berating my mom and calling her names when she didn't drop everything to do what he wanted, calling the police saying that he was in danger after he started a fight that escalated into him screaming, even being in a room with him was stressful because he would all but invent reasons to start shouting.

On top of that, he had begun to actively lie to me and my mom, or perhaps he always lied and we only now caught it. Agreements that only he was privy to, misrepresenting events to pain himself as a victim, claims of who said what that were completely baseless and easily proven wrong, secret stashes of booze after he promised not to drink all year, all in addition to willful emotional manipulation and intimidation tactics. It has reached the point where my mom and I can no longer tell if he's out of touch with reality and thinks what he's saying is true, or if he's willfully malicious and knowingly lying. He's broken all trust either of us ever had in him.

Through it all, my mom and I have tried to urge him whenever we can to seek counseling or psychiatric help because his behavior is unusual and frightening, but he has rebuffed us at every turn, growing increasingly paranoid and hurling accusations at anyone and everyone that doesn't immediately take "his side".

There was no end to it. Every other week was another incident. He'd take my car and my dog hostage because he "didn't feel safe at home" after provoking and yelling at my mom. Any disagreement was turned into a fight. At one point he even threatened suicide when my mom wouldn't get a plane with him to Hawaii.

Things came to a head last week, where after learning that my mom took his name off the title of her car to make sure he didn't sell it out from under her like he did to another family car earlier that year, he got black out drunk and started tearing apart their shared bedroom. He barricaded the door shut and threw heavy objects at the door when my mom knocked to see if he was alright before going unresponsive.

My mom called 911 because she worried he'd hurt himself, and they had to break the door down to reach him. They found him passed out on the floor and barely able to walk after how much he'd had to drink from his secret stash, got him into a gurney and wheeled him out. From here things are a bit more fuzzy, as my mom and I were told he was being taken to a local hospital for care, but learned the next day he'd been transferred to a mental care facility that was two hours drive away after he got physically combative with medical staff.

He was put on a psychiatric hold while he was looked over and made sure he was not an immediate threat to himself or others, and was away for about six days. Yesterday he came home, and talked up how much he wanted to change and wanted to be better, but before 12 hours had passed he was right back to harassing my mom non-stop.

So my mom and I have left the house. We're currently at a motel for a few days while we file the paperwork to get a restraining order and try to figure out where we go from here because it is impossible to live with him. He's paranoid and either delusion or plain old hateful, and we cannot stay under the same roof as him any more.

So that's where I am now. Unsure of how or where things will go. Ideally, my mom and I can get back into our house and my dad can get the help he needs, but it's hard to say at this point.

Safe to say, I won't be streaming in the near future, as my equipment is all back home and I don't wanna try going off my laptop using public wifi. For now, I would ask you keep me in your thoughts, and if there's any advice or recommendations for how to proceed in this situation, I would be happy to hear them.

[disabled-diva]

OCD and being physically disabled

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, better known as OCD, has plagued my life for as long as I can remember. I never thought much of it because everyone would just say I was an “overthinker,” that's that. I could never stop thinking; my brain was in overdrive at every waking moment. Because of my childhood, I focus on “being a good person.” In my mind, because I had a disability, I had to make up for it in my personality. I was such a people pleaser in a specific way. I would go above and beyond to ensure my friends had everything they needed, even if it would negatively impact my life. I cared so much about what my loved ones thought of me. I started doing makeup at around 16, leading to a nasty, beautiful pipeline. I became hyper focused on whether I looked good, if I smelled, if my walking was too weird, or if my outfit complimented my body well. I would take several hours to get ready and go to Target with my friends because I needed to feel like I was one of them. Doing my makeup almost felt like a mask I could wear. It felt like the only way to humanize myself in a crowd of people who do not see me as human. I would constantly ask them for reassurance, ensuring I had their approval. Everything about my physical appearance had to be perfect, from how soft my skin was to whether there was a wrinkle on my top. I could not leave the house until I felt I looked perfect. When I was learning the basics of makeup, I would spend multiple hours every day for months on end just practicing my eyeliner and eyebrows. I had to perfect it to my liking (even if I wasn't going anywhere), or I would have the most insane outburst. I could not be interrupted in this process because their presence made me feel like they ruined my makeup entirely.

Regarding my health, if I had a medical issue, I would immediately fixate on how it would affect me for the rest of my life. Since my disability is degenerative, I convince myself that my random nausea is going to make me throw up so much that I will become dehydrated and die. I have a mild case of my disorder. Fortunately, my body typically reacts well to illnesses, but that does not stop me from spiraling. I convince myself that everything happening to me is my fault, and I must find a way to fix it. Typically, there is no fix, and I reassure myself I am on my deathbed. In the back of my head, I think I am trying to find a cure for my disability, even though I know there isn't one.

My walking is a big contender for my OCD as well. Because of my disability, I walk side-to-side, almost like waddling. In public spaces, people stare at me without regard for my feelings. I know I am only a stranger to them, but the least an abled body person can do is respect me. I have been fixated on my walking because of this for as long as I can remember. For the first twenty years of my life, it made me physically sick to my stomach to watch myself walk. If I were around people I wanted to impress, I would try to hide my impairment as much as possible. I hated how, most of the time, people’s first impression of me was my walking. That drove me up the wall my whole teenage life. I didn’t start actively dating until I was around 18 because of how much my walking would eat me alive. I honestly had convinced myself that it was the only thing that mattered about me. Every time I met someone new I obsessed about what they think of my walking. 

Not until recently did I discover this was all part of my OCD. I did not know there was a term to describe my feelings. No longer was I labeled with having “intense anxiety,” but I had a diagnosis of my problems. Therapy and psychiatric medications have assisted me tremendously. I now know how to properly self-soothe and realize when I am having another obsession or compulsion. Beforehand, it felt like the thoughts would never end, and I am delighted and fortunate to have received this help.

[transmutationisms]

Why do u think so many people in like 'neurodivergent' spaces seem to simultaneously hold the belief that certain developmental disabilities or 'mental illnesses' arent 'an excuse' to be unable to do certain tasks, act certain ways, or to 'work on urself' or 'be better', in a way that completely ignores people with higher support needs that genuinely cannot do these things,just a complete lack of understanding that some people are not ever going to be able to 'mask' and that no, its not a 'privilege' to be very visibly, obviously considered developmentally defective from a young age..........but also practically worship psychiatry and pathologize every single iota of their behavior, labelling themselves with things like 'demand avoidance' without understanding the context behind these words or who gets nonconsensually labelled with these things, and what it is used to justify doing. I dont know how some people can be so ignorant of the material reality faced by people who get shoved into the 'low functioning' or 'severely mentally ill' boxes (how many autism influencer types have u ever seen bring up sheltered workshops?), but its a massive barrier to interacting in ND spaces for me and a lot of people i know. i dont understand how people who talk about how ADHD brains react differently to meds than 'neurotypical brains' can not understand that like, for example, i cant eat a certain food, i can eat rotten food and food i dislike but not that food, no matter if im starving, I was restrained and force fed that food in special ed and then force fed my own vomit when i inevitably threw up, I would have eaten the food if i could to make that stop! Why is this contradiction so prevalent!!! Anyway love the blog im also having an #ediblenight

well a few things. one is simple moral hypocrisy (accommodations for me, not for thee)

another is that i think many people actually do perceive the philosophical nonsensicality of psychiatric diagnosis (the recursive circle whereby you are dx'd with x because you do y, which is caused by x, which you know because the definition of x is that someone does y, which was based on clinical observation of people doing y and doctors determining that was harmful and therefore indicative of a medical problem, in other words the entire thing's observational but interpreted as providing a causal explanation)--

--they do perceive this as basically nonsense, hence "having x doesn't excuse [behaviour]" but then simultaneously, they have a prima facie credulous attitude toward Science, and toward the claim that psychiatry is Science, and so you get these like nonsense statements out both sides of their mouths where a diagnosis doesn't excuse anything they find morally reprehensible or personally annoying but it does also provide biologically irrefutable explanations for other things WHEN that's convenient for them.

another thing is just that experientially, lots of our actions feel out of our control for like numerous reasons having to do with alienation largely, and when those actions are also stigmatised it pushes people toward the promise of moral exculpation that psychiatry markets itself with, which is a kind of determinism in its strong forms and isn't really compatible with interpreting other people's actions as being intentional or willed or whatever. so again you just end up with these double statements lol , like, a problem with psychiatry trying to claim legitimacy as a 'brain science' is it does kind of counterpose itself to most interpretations of free will. any time you are stuck choosing between moral culpability and biological determinism you kinda already lost the plot & this is something that antipsych people get maddeningly accused of all the time when what we're actually saying is it's possible to be neither biologically diseased nor broken nor immoral for doing the Behaviours lol

[sjsmith56]

Two Steps to the Left - Part 2

Summary: The interrogation of Arnim Zola gets the information needed for Steve and Bucky to perform their mission of retrieving the serum.

Length: 3.6K

Characters: Colonel Phillips, Arnim Zola, Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: Arnim Zola (lying POS), WW2 Bucky feeling left out of the loop.

Author notes: Bucky is starting to believe in his abilities and that he won’t become something dark, but there is still some mistrust.

<<Part 1

🪖 🪖

Interrogation Room

Knowing that Zola would have to be interrogated again on the subject of how much serum had been given to Bucky was the next step to be completed before the Howling Commandos could undertake the mission to retrieve the serum.  Although the voice said that Bucky and Steve could retrieve it together, even he admitted the mission stood a better chance of success if the whole team was involved.  The Colonel made it very clear that he would find out the dosage, especially now that he knew the diminutive doctor was a shrewd and manipulative character. 

With Peggy Carter beside him, they entered Zola's cell.  This time, the Colonel brought a tray of food better suited to the doctor's preferred vegetarian diet, lentil soup, whole grain bread and a jar of Marmite, along with a glass of tomato juice.  It was gratifying to see how Zola's eyes widened at the sight of the meal, considering how many previous meals he had barely nibbled at.  The Colonel pushed the tray towards him, smiling genially at the man, while Carter watched from the corner of the room.

"You took the trouble of making a vegetarian meal for me, Colonel?  I appreciate it."

"Well, we're not cruel, Dr. Zola," answered Phillips.  "You do need sustenance.  The cook tells me the lentil soup is quite good and that marmite, although an acquired taste, is liked by many of the Brits.  Go ahead, please, eat."  Zola took several spoonfuls of the soup, smiled and took another before looking up at the commanding officer.  "I do have some questions for you."

"I assumed as much," said Zola.  "What do you wish to know?"

"Exactly what did you do to Sergeant Barnes when he was your prisoner at the HYDRA factory?"

A slight hesitation as Zola lifted the spoon was the only indication that he hadn't expected that question.  Without making eye contact he responded.

"What makes you think I did anything to him?  Has he said anything?"

"No, nothing specific other than you experimented on some of the prisoners, but his behaviour has drawn some attention and after what happened last night ... well, let's just say the Sergeant may not finish the war in uniform."

Phillips and Carter observed the doctor carefully as he processed what was just said.  Putting his spoon down he opened the jar of Marmite and spread a thin layer on the bread, then bit into it, chewing it slowly, before sipping some of the tomato juice.  Only then did he look at the pair.

"What exactly happened?  I am a medical doctor.  Perhaps I can help."

"I doubt that," drawled the Colonel.  "Our doctors are sure it was something you did to him that put him in this state.  Quite frankly, after seeing what he is capable of most of them don't think he can be helped.  They wish to ship Barnes back to a nice psychiatric facility in the States, where he won't be a danger to anyone, except himself."

"He hurt someone?  That is most unfortunate."  Zola took a few more sips of his juice.  "We did give the Sergeant a new medication when we realized he was suffering from pneumonia.  Perhaps, it is a delayed reaction to it?"

"Like penicillin, you mean?" Carter spoke, then shook her head.  "It was over a year ago, Doctor.  I doubt the body would react to a medication that long after it was administered.  At least, that's what our doctors said.  Steve ... I mean Captain Rogers said it was like he was fighting ...."  She looked at the Colonel.  "Sorry, sir, it just slipped out."

Zola studied the looks between them, at the obvious way the Colonel glared at the woman for admitting that Barnes fought Captain America.  His mind whirled with excitement.  Even more than a year after the last serum treatment the benefits were still present in the Sergeant, enough for him to possibly injure the one man who had been a thorn in HYDRA's side since he rescued all those soldiers.  It was imperative that the Sergeant receive the remaining serum, as well as completing the reconditioning treatment to turn him into the Winter Soldier.  They wouldn't let him free to return to his lab but perhaps he could convince them to get the serum here.  The reconditioning treatment could be done later, after Barnes had received most of the serum, but not enough to lock the effects permanently which would prevent the reprogramming of the soldier's brain.  With the several HYDRA moles already in place in the American military, a memory suppression machine could even be set up at an allied base and the Sergeant's treatment continued in secret without the Allies even being aware of their true nature.  Without even thinking the doctor took an energizing breath then realized the pair were looking at him strangely.

"Doctor, is there something you're not telling us?"

Phillips' stare bore into the doctor.

"Well, yes," he stammered, pretending to be telling them this information, reluctantly.  "We did give the Sergeant an experimental treatment; nothing that harmed him, I assure you.  In fact, it was something similar to Dr. Erskine's initial plan for his serum; something that could help the human body heal itself quicker and more efficiently.  It seemed to do wonders for the Sergeant who was frankly in danger of dying but it was interrupted before it could be completed by the arrival of Captain America and the rescue of all the soldiers at the factory.  Perhaps, his body is at a stage of withdrawal where he needs the balance of the treatment."

"You mean you also have a serum like Dr. Erskine's?" asked Phillips, trying to add some excitement to his manner.  "How much does he need to complete the treatment?  I know how many vials we injected into Captain Rogers to achieve the results of his."

"Yes, I do, but you needed to infuse him with Vita Radiation after to activate the serum, am I correct?" countered Zola, effectively admitting he had access to intelligence on Project Rebirth.  "My serum does not require the radiation although I suppose it would draw out every last benefit if it were done all at once as the Captain's was.  We injected it on a daily schedule, with the initial plan to extend it to six months, allowing the body to adjust at a slower pace.  If, by the young lady's admittance, Sergeant Barnes was strong enough to affect Captain Rogers during an encounter, I would think we could double the dosage.  However, the serum is all in a lab in Germany.  Without it, I anticipate that the Sergeant's behaviour will continue to deteriorate."  He shook his head sadly, making sure he appeared to be concerned about Barnes' health.  "Such a sad outcome for a fine young man."

"How much serum are we talking about, Doctor?"  Phillips looked at him.  "Perhaps, we can send a team to retrieve it and bring back enough for the Sergeant.  I agree that the prospect of sentencing Sergeant Barnes to a lifetime in a psychiatric facility for what is obviously a medical issue vexes me."

"Perhaps I could trouble you for a pencil and paper," smiled Zola.

Peggy Carter stifled the ill feeling that Zola's smile brought up in her.  It was enough to make her vomit.  She reached inside her pocket and pulled out a small pad of paper as well as a pencil, placing it on the table in front of the doctor.  As he drew it in closer and began to make calculations she stole a look at Phillips.  He seemed ready to lean over and knock the doctor's head off but glanced at her before resuming his troubled commander look.  After several minutes of calculations Zola wrote something down on several clean sheets of paper and pushed them towards the Colonel.

"There, that is my best calculation of how much serum Sergeant Barnes needs to lock in the benefits of the serum and be at a fully operational status.  I have also provided you with the location of my lab, along with the lock combination to get in and out quickly as time is of the essence if we wish to relieve the Sergeant of his dilemma."  Phillips reached out to take the slips.  "I only ask one thing."  Phillips stopped then looked at Zola without changing the position of his head.  "I wish to be present while he is undergoing the treatment.  I understand he doesn't trust me but as a doctor and a scientist, I feel it is important for me to be there for what is sure to be a momentous occasion."

Phillips grasped the papers then stood up and looked at the doctor.  "Of course, I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement."  He waved the slip of papers like he would a flag.  "Thank you, Doctor.  You've been most cooperative, and I'll make sure to tell my superiors that.  Enjoy your meal."

Phillips and Carter exited the interrogation room, where a trusted SSR captain and an MP waited.

"Once he's finished eating, I want him moved to another location," ordered Phillips.  "We're certain there are HYDRA agents in sensitive positions in both the American and British military so find the most innocuous installation and transport him there where he can't contact anyone or be tracked.  If Army Intelligence comes looking for him, I want them to know they have HYDRA moles that must be neutralized first.  Once you find that place you send me a coded location message.  I will reply when our mission has been accomplished."

Both soldiers saluted as the Colonel and Carter left with the location of Zola's lab and the amount of serum needed.  In the jeep on the way to the airfield where the Howling Commandos waited, they said nothing, as the driver wasn't cleared to hear any top-secret information.  He dropped them off in front of the stolen German aircraft, then drove a short distance away as Steve, dressed incognito and Bucky approached the Colonel and Peggy.  Handing them the information he gazed at Bucky with concern.

"Zola said the schedule for your dosage could be doubled but it would still take weeks.  He didn't disagree that all the serum could be given in concert with the Vita-Ray radiation treatment.  Seemed to think it would draw out every last benefit.  What does your voice say to that?"

Bucky waited for his counterpart's voice to make itself known.  Just as he was about to tell Phillips that the voice wasn't answering he heard him.

"Theoretically it should work just as Steve's did, but it is a copy of the original incomplete formula that was used on Schmidt, which is why they had to inject you over a period of time.  My medical colleague here would be willing to come and supervise the process, but he can't guarantee the results.  It would also have to be in secret because his appearance may cause concern."

"He can come here?" Bucky repeated.  "Would you come as well?"

There was no answer for a long time then he heard his voice.  "I'm not sure that's a good idea but my medical colleague says he would feel easier if I was there with him, just in case.  It's your call, Bucky."

Everyone was looking at him.  The whole balance of the mission was on him, a sergeant with some unstable serum setting up shop in his body.  Removing it wasn't an option.  His only real choice was to take the full treatment, but something was coming soon that he would be needed for, so the treatment had to be sped up.  He looked at Steve, whose impassive face showed that this was Bucky's decision.  He wasn't going to pressure him in any way, but he would support his friend, like he had done since Bucky finally confided in him.

"Alright, I'll undergo the same treatment," he said to the Colonel.  "The voice said he and a medical colleague are coming to supervise it, but it will have to be a secret location because of the colleague's appearance.  He also can't guarantee the results."

"Very well," said the Colonel, without question.  "While you're away, I'll contact Stark to set up the radiation chamber in a new location.  When you return, we'll go there.  Does your counterpart need any advance notice?"

"No, just let us know where the place is and when, and we'll be there.  Bucky?  No heroics from you and Steve on this.  No matter what you might see there, don't interfere.  Just go in and out then come back.  Got it?"

"Understood," he replied, then looked at everyone.  "Let's go."

As the aircraft took off, Colonel Phillips and Peggy Carter looked at each other, hoping this would go to plan.  The driver was waved over, and the pair climbed into the jeep to be taken back to their base.

The Mission

As the Commandos looked at the camp in front of them, Bucky repeated what his future counterpart said about getting in and out of the lab quickly.  They weren't to interfere with what was going on.

"What were his specific words?" Steve looked at his friend.

"No heroics from you or me on this."  Bucky saw a grin appear on Steve's face.  "No, he was quite specific that we get in, get what we came for and get out."

"Yeah, but he didn't say the guys couldn't do some damage."  The superhero waved his hand at the obvious purpose of the facility, as the work crews of what were obviously civilians lined up while guards with snarling dogs on leashes approached them.  "There's nothing stopping them from creating a diversion that might also allow a lot of these prisoners to escape.  You and I won't be involved.  We'll already be inside the lab."  He raised his eyebrows.  "I think your future Bucky just wanted to make sure that you and I stayed on the most immediate task.  Remember, at first, he said we could do it alone.  Then he agreed the Commandos could come.  Why else would he say that?"

Shaking his head, Bucky waited for the voice to counter what Steve just said but he remained silent.  With a resigned breath, Bucky nodded his head, then rolled his eyes as Steve gleefully went to the others and gave them the go-ahead to implement a plan they had already drawn up.  He returned to Bucky's side with a grin, then pulled his black headgear on, the need to hide his true identity necessary.

"Ready?  Race you to the fence."

He took off, and Bucky groaned then ran after him, still dealing with the realization that he could keep up with Steve, at least for a time.  Just as he began to slow down, they reached their destination, and Steve jumped up to the top of the observation tower, tossing the two guards over like they were trash.  Bucky finished the job, punching them for good measure then tied them up.  Both men took the weapons with them.  Just as they reached the second tower an explosion at the far side of the facility drew the attention of every guard near them, sending them running towards the scene.  Steve jumped up to the top of the next tower and tossed those two guards over then landed on the other side of the fence, waiting for Bucky to finish them off.  Both men grasped hold of the wire and pulled it apart, allowing room for Bucky to get through.  They ran towards the administration buildings, stopping along the way as teams of soldiers ran towards the obvious sounds of a gun battle.  Just as they were about to run, a hand on Bucky's shoulder startled him and he whirled around ready to shoot.  The obvious prisoner stepped back, holding his hands up.

"American?" he asked.  "Rescue?"

"American, yes.  Rescue, no."  Bucky looked at the man's disappointment then unloaded all the weapons he took from the tower guards, grabbing them off of Steve as well, and giving them to the prisoner.  "Hole in the fence.  There."  He pointed towards the second tower.  "Escape.  Go."

With understanding in his eyes, the man gathered the weapons close then ran to a nearby building, where an outer door opened then closed as he entered.  A few moments later it opened again to several armed prisoners leading the others towards the second guard tower.  As they encountered other guards, they engaged them in battle then distributed their weapons amongst the others.  Returning his attention to Steve they ran towards the building where Zola said his lab was and entered it, finding the door to the lab locked with a combination lock set into the door.  They dialled the correct combination and opened it, turned on the light and looked for the locker where the serum was supposed to be stored.  Finding it, Steve broke that lock with his hands and opened the doors.  Both men gasped when they saw all the serum that was sitting there, dozens of cases with six vials in each container. 

"There's enough here for many men," said Steve.  "Bucky, we can't let them keep it and it's too much to safely carry."

"Fuck.  Hey!  What are we supposed to do with all this serum?" he cried out, wanting an answer from the voice.

There was no answer and once again he was faced with the dilemma of it being his decision.  Grabbing a satchel, he took out what was needed for himself, then added several more cases, grabbing some lab coats and stuffing them in to cushion the cases.  Steve did the same then looked at all the serum that was left.  Noticing a Bunsen burner attached to a gas outlet, Bucky opened the valve and several others fully as Steve did the same then they retreated to the door of the lab.  Lighting an emergency lantern that was just outside the door, Bucky tossed it inside, watching as the fire spread.  The two men glanced at each other then began running towards the hole in the fence, where dozens of prisoners were lined up to get out.  Ignoring them, they both pulled another portion of the wire fence apart and burst through followed by other prisoners.  After quickly leaving them behind, the two men ran to the rendezvous point where they were joined by rest of the Howling Commandos, spread between two stolen motor cars, their faces flush with the knowledge that they had destroyed a Nazi concentration camp.  Jumping inside the vehicles, the order was given to return to the aircraft.  Along the way a large explosion occurred behind them and both Steve and Bucky smiled at each other, knowing they were the cause of it.  Their pilot started up the aircraft as they abandoned the vehicles and clambered on, taxiing it to the end of the runway.

"We got company!"

Steve and Bucky both looked out the cockpit window at several trucks of German soldiers approaching them.  The pilot applied full throttle then lifted off well before they had set up their anti-aircraft weapons.  Circling towards the west they were soon approaching the border with France, taking some flak from the defences there.  After Gabe successfully contacted the base in England they were left alone as they flew over the channel and prepared to line up for the runway.  In all that time, the voice never spoke a word until just as the tires made contact with the pavement.

"Good work."

"Where were you?" asked Bucky.  "You seriously expected that Steve and I wouldn't help them?"

The Commandos watched, having been read in on Bucky's future counterpart.

"No, I never expected that, but you still had to stay on mission.  History just never knew that the Commandos and either of you were involved in this.  We had to keep it that way.  You were a mystery Allied unit that helped a bunch of prisoners escape from a concentration camp that was also a site for human experimentation.  It was always going to happen, but the circumstances dictated how, and I didn't have the information to tell you that."

Bucky grunted, slinking back into the bench as the aircraft taxied towards a far building.  They were being picked up far away from prying eyes, transported directly to a camp where Colonel Phillips would advise him where he had to go for the full treatment.  One more step completed since that first step to the left that started this whole thing.

"Bucky?"

"What?"

"It's hard to be out of the loop but if I tell you too much too soon, then there's a good chance we don't get the outcome we want.  When I get there, you and I will have a private talk and I'll tell you everything that I'm permitted to tell you."

"Alright, I guess.  Tell me something.  Is Steve in your future just as impulsive as he is now?"  There was no answer.  "Bucky?" 

Still no answer.  Why didn't he answer?  Better yet, why didn't Steve from the future have a connection to this Steve?  There was no time to dwell on that as the aircraft came to a stop and the exit door was opened.  But it was definitely something he was going to bring up to his counterpart.

Part 3>>

Series Masterlist

[schizopositivity]

Do you have a severe mental illness that can/has caused a mental health emergency? Are you currently stable? You should make a basic safety plan! [Disclaimer: I am not a mental health professional, this advice is taken from my own experiences and what I learned in inpatient psychiatric facilities. This post caters more to those who experience severe psychotic episodes as that is my experience.]

1. Find a safe person. Someone you often spend time with that you can trust with the details of your mental illness and feel safe around. Ask them if they are comfortable being the person to look out for you if you have a mental health emergency. Preferably someone you live with. If no one you live with fits this role, find someone you contact regularly.

2. Explain to the safe person what a mental health emergency looks like for you. Think of the way you presented in the past during mental health emergencies and try to describe it. You may have to describe it based on what others have told you if you had memory loss during episodes in the past.

3. Let them know how they can check with you to see if you are in a mental crisis. You might need them to ask you some questions to gage your mental state (examplse: Do you know where you are right now? Are you able to talk?). Tell them what questions to ask to find out if you are in a crisis.

4. Explain to them what you would want to happen in a mental health emergency. If they are able to see that you are indeed in a mental health emergency, what steps would you want them to take? If you will need to go to the hospital, but don't want to interact with police, let them know to tell that to emergency services. If there's a nearby inpatient facility you would want to go to, tell them which one and give them their contact info. If episodes typically pass on their own for you, let the safe person know how to keep you comfortable and safe until it passes.

5. Have an easily accessible contact paper or note on your phone with some basic info in case you can't speak to professional help while you are in a crisis. Add your name, birth date, your diagnoses, and exactly what medications you take and the dosages. You can add specific warnings or triggers about yourself (examples: Doesn't like being touched by medical professionals. Can react violently to loud noises). You can add contact info of people you'd want to let know about your situation. You can add your insurance information if you have it.

6. If you would have to go to a hospital/inpatient facility, let the safe person know if there's anything else you'd want them to handle once you get there. (Examples: Pack a bag of clothes for the inpatient stay. Feed my pets while I'm gone or ask someone else to. Contact my work place for me and let them know I won't be able to come in.)

Yes this is a long list, but I feel it's important to prepare and get your bases covered while you have the capacity to do so. Often when someone is in crisis they don't know how to ask for help, or what to do once they get help. Thinking of everything ahead of time saves you the extra worry later, or the extra worry of guessing by the people around you.

And if you are thinking "this is too much work to make someone else do!" Consider how much harder it would be if they found you in crisis and had no idea what to do and you wouldn't be able to tell them. If you have a severe mental illness that can/has caused you to be in a state of mental health emergency, you deserve to be cared for by others during the crisis.

[doctor-loboto]

"You can't detain me, I'm a doctor! It's against the Hypocritic Oath! That's your Geneva Convention, isn't it?? I'm prepared for this exact situation, I have stamped and signed documentation issued by your army spud that certifies my sanity and mental autonomy!!"

i think a lot about how cal would react to like, getting put in medical/psychiatric care/observation at the motherlobe bc he would definitely see it as a betrayal if sasha told him he wasn't being arrested because he would connect hospitalization with incarceration and punishment

he would be calmed down by being moved to a low security area that isn't obviously medical in nature (or, if we're thinking romantically, cautiously moved into the living quarters of one of the counselors) but on the long term would ultimately need to come to grasp with his perception that being prevented from living a self destructive lifestyle isn't as drastic of a loss of freedom as he believes it to be

[darkfictionjude]

How would the ros reacts to the evolution in the mental medicine and culture acceptance of psy illness nowdays?

Culture acceptance of psychological illness is a bit too optimistic I would say it's more accepted than it was in 1994 but there is still a lot of discrimination and ignorance around it and many erroneous diagnoses. The r-word is coming back in vogue as an insult. Progress isn't exactly linear

Imre: he will always have a distrust of the psychiatric industry. He believes it prays on innocent people and the prices for medication are pathetic, he does like how there is more attention towards seeing if children have signs of autism or ADHD

Nia: she has more trust in psychiatry and is glad that certain illness are better understood and individuals are not so ostracized anymore but she does think that there is not enough support or attention give to mentally ill people due to the prices and how little funding government services get not to mention the horrible side affects of some of the most powerful medication

Lorcan: he doesn't quite understand many of the "new" illnesses but he thinks it's great that more people who didn't know what was going on now can put a name to it

[chronicallyblogged]

My friend was curious how the world was alive to me. She asked what a spatula would say. So I told her.

Spatulas aren't very defined and tend to speak more in notions than words. If they get knocked to the ground or are left dirty they are sad and upset. I have multiple spatulas and sometimes one in particular wants to be used. Sometimes one wants to make a certain food, even if i don't want that food. Or to be washed again, even if clean. Or they will want to go in the strawberry holder instead of the cow holder and vice versa.

Then she asked about art. So I told her.

Art can be anything from vague notions suggesting colors or shapes to fully formed pieces speaking to me about what they'd like to look like or where they want to be displayed. What they think about a show or what I'm doing.

Then she went quiet. Then changed the subject.

I think being met with discomfort and mini rejections like these is part of why I learned to eat my feelings. Other people don't understand that I view something as alive so when I react as if they are they get upset and shut me down. Eventually I just learned to shut myself down. For example my therapist doesn't think I allow myself to feel grief. But when you befriend your headphones. Play their favorite music. Take them with you to see the world even if you know they won't be played. Then someone steps on them by accident and they die you aren't permitted to grieve. If you grieve its an overreaction, it's a guilt trip, it's going to far. So eventually you kill the ability to grieve, to feel empathy, to form healthy attachments.

I haven't shared this with my therapist in full detail bc I dont want to be shut down. Even psych professionals don't get this. The only one who has is my psychiatric nurse and she understands I enjoy the depth this gives my world and do not need to be medicated out of it. That that would be more distressing. I probably will tell my therapist soon though.