I’m in hell, for sure, and as lucid as can be

Secondary to the brain injury in December I’ve now had raging hyperthyroid for months. It’s clear that psychosis isn’t something this body/mind does easily anymore since I do not sleep anymore than 2 hours a night and often less. The level of taxation on the body is through the roof. I’m in hell, for sure, and as lucid as can be. Sleeplessness is used as torture for good reason.

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Musings on identity and self…

I often say about the voice I use in my work that I’m speaking as an empowered patient (rather than the professional I also am), but the fact is I’m speaking as a vulnerable human being — that which every seven billion of us are if we allow ourselves to be honest. We must rid our imaginations of artificial hierarchies. …

What does it mean to heal?

Healing to me does not mean returning to what one was before something went wrong. Wholeness does not necessarily mean normal. And even the word recovery is problematic because, frankly, I don’t want what I had before. Who wants to go backwards anyway?

“How did this happen? You’re the most resourced person I know. “

“How did this happen? You’re the most resourced person I know. ” That was one of my friend’s response when they heard about what happened to me in December when I ended up in the ICU with the precipitous sodium drop (hyponatremia) that almost killed me.  It happened after I took a pharmaceutical for 3 days — the first pharmaceutical I’ve taken since I came off a massive cocktail of psych drugs 8 years ago. The above quoted question and sentence keeps coming back to me since, I too, have had my own version of that inquiry within.

Beyond withdrawal…

I see in retrospect that some core, vital part of me was always there during the drugged years, learning and remembering much that would help me in these years of coming off meds and now being med free. I no longer believe that I “lost” my life to drugs. This is, as Mary Oliver, puts it, my “one wild and precious life.”