Strange. Funny. Weird. Easily annoyed. Sunny. Rainy. Dreamy. Precise. Growing. Maturing. Understanding. Needing. Pushing. Rebelling. Rejecting things, behaviors or people who or that can go against my grain or my systematic thinking. Accepting misungerstanding — sometimes. Trying to adjust. Learning what Change means over and over. Learning to look at memories in a new light. Realizing I have a lot of memories I had long forgotten. Free writing. Impulsive. Needs people (and a little of her own researching) to ground her. Loves to get high that when she is left without a vice, she finds herself feeling a bit insane. Realizing that high doesn’t always come in grams or have to be green, white, blue, or pink (just throwing that last color in there). Realizing that swinging is revitalizing. That being touched is not so scary. That defenses are natural. That family and friends look to protect and not to plot. Understands (relatively) that the girl that stands before her in her mirror can change. Learning not everything is so black, white (or red). Understanding that HER thoughts are hers. No one can read her like a book. She can change on a dime. She can be fragile, strong, happy, sad and it doesn’t make a damn lick of difference if someone is not understanding why she feels that way. Knowing that not every feeling can always be traced and her silence doesn’t mean she has some sort of mental disturbance, but just a cool down to let herself wonder (alone, without fear). Taking to face that it’s OK that no one understands her written word, as long as she holds on, she will always know what she means or mean what she knows. Also seeing that her words can be interpreted differently that what she meant and that it’s OK. Realizing, slowly, that not everything she does has to be explained, or meticulously perfect.
Trying to understand that she doesn’t always have to run. That she can call that person when she is in need of something. That it isn’t the end of the world to disturb someone.
Knowing that it’s not in her nature to call someone when she needs something and that it will take a long while to really get that.
Realizing her memories CAN link to her habits of now. Realizing that maybe therapy, diet, exercise if done right and slowly introduced she can maybe take less pharmaceuticals. Knowing she needs to discuss this with her psych in a careful and meticulous manner so he doesn’t fly off the handle and make her feel like she is crazy and just being “non compliant”. Knowing that he is a little similar to herself, or he’s just so damn smart that he can mimic the habits and is how he can actively diagnose. That is just a hypothesis.
Realizing bringing up her doctor is a trigger. Trying to come to terms that he may not feel the same, that he himself can be a little black and white in thought.
Knowing this is the time to stand her ground and that her doctor is not her and cannot feel how she feels and if he sees one bit of weakness that he can get her to believe him again, she will in fact be on meds that make her feel ill. And like death.
Doctors are not God. Doctors are people, too. (and he should at least try to hear me out before he flies off the handle. He’s done it to me before and it royally pissed me off.)