Subtitled Very Important Post

Problem on the smoking porch continuing to be resolved alongside my OCD, and the DO, DO NOT voices with inception when I was refusing Zyprexa yet taking Topamax, the Topamax I am taking again now.

I remember saying to myself on the psych ward,  1, i can’t die for my cat I knew she was dying, and i was holding on to her) and 2. I won’t go down for the mentally ill, (dying over refusing medication, i had gone three weeks without sleep) that’s not my battle.

Well that was a little bit vain of me.  God was giving me help with my dire condition, and psychiatric, and the ins and outs of the mental health system were a big part if it.  I got sidelined from life by going to the State hospital at a young age.  It was desperate and tragic.  It is true that I got a bad deal, and the brunt of my illness was my PHYSICAL illness (being kneed in the crotch when I was little, life urinary tract infections that were excruciating and ongoing constipation issues all my life.)  The first suicide attempt was the direct result of bad counseling and bad psych meds (as well as my mothers malfeassnce, again, something that comes under the psych header.)  And the second suicide attempt, which was situational, ironically led to a sexual injury, where I was already damaged there.  That’s where i just have to trust.  It was horrible that that had to happen to me but i dont know how i ever would have figured it out about the sexual injury as a child, from being kneed in the crotch, without this horrible thing happening. My problems as a child and young adult were so deep and intractable because of all the reading.  Looking back at that time, my desperation was bad enough to warrant such a thing:   divine intervention.  Nobody had a place for me and i didnt  know what was happening to me and i was really scared.

I suffered twice  from serious major depression, it was more like serious moral and physical exhaustion but psych would never accept that more human description.

So im seeing how God got me under control by showing me  how the little moments affected me, and He has led me to realize that He is leading me through them and instead if punishing myself over a lost moment I should let Him guide me through it.

Oh God  Holy Mighty One

Holy Immortal One

Have mercy in us

And on the whole world!

So yes, my little old steaming heap of mental mess, back in 2003, was enough to warrant this kind of intervention.  Guiding voices, awesome moments, thunder and lightening, for the Love of God, i am saying to myself, give yourself a break!  This takes me back to X-Ville state hospital, where the radical religion took its inception.  I want to quote St. Augustine:  “God loves each of us as though there was only one of us.”  This completely justifies my  highly self-reflexive faith, God certainly could and would and probably did do and is doing all this stuff but thats not the right way round to look at it, i look at it that way because I came to religion through the back door of being unpleasantly introduced to Satan, as well as much radical religion, at the State hospital.

So I am thinking back to Thursday’s session wuth ny Christian psychotherapist who so very gently  showed me my immaturity.  Yes! God did all this stuff to bring me back.  The “Bible as prosthetic brain” period that  i went through in Florida was real, when i was so challenged to function that i clung to the WORD with every step.  Everybody at was praying for me.  That went on for years .  But I should perhaps hesitate before claiming the role of prophet and refrain from disdaining  divine intervention in my own mental healing.  It used to be, because of my family i couldnt get anywhere with psych, i was spinning mywheels, and  i even took on some of my father’s stupid snobbery towards the mental health profession and its consumers.  I saw myself as separate  from them, i sat on psych wards, not getting treatment, because of it.  And got sicker, and sicker.

Yes, i was sick enough to warrant visible, public healing, i have to acknowledge this if i want to make sense of my life, not with the boasting if a prophet but with the humility if a sinner. Thank you GOD, i have nothing more to say at this time.

…just went out for 1030 smoke and got blindsided by a tech handing out cigarettes, a young black man who doesnt like me, turns out to be a recovering addict like my son, they were talking about rehab.  This post doesn’t make any sense to me as i reread it.  I’m weeping.

I/2 hour later

Well with a few tweaks I can see some sense here.  There is already healing in this juxtaposition of my putting forward my psych needs when he has life and death issues with his addiction, sure I didnt have a lot to give him I was a restoremess [I don’t know what I meant by this–8/13/2018] and completely lost in my mind, i work on the premise that everything that i do to make myself better, also benefits him.   I am taken to several out of control moments which lacked simple sanity which is herewith restored.

Oh God Almighty, Allelujah!


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