For Pat,Pat----An hour in my head.

Why do they keep calling me a whore?
Because I don't work, have a steady income?
Because my arms and legs work?
Mentally I feel disabled.
I do not want leave the house for fear of mentally getting punched in the head.
Of course, there is no place safe.
How depressing, I can not think of a safe place.
Where would I be safe?
Because I live off the government?
Because I am not really ill?
This is what has been created for me, And I"M  to blame?
Let's not forget how ungrateful I am......
Listen?
Too voices?
I just heard "Fuck Her".
Why am I so hated?
I don't even know you....You don't know me?
"yeah right".
The psychologist would say, "well, the heater is making white noise."
Was that a "Wrong"?
I hear that often too.
Should I listen to a voice that calls me a "whore"?
Or perhaps it was "Whining".
Guilt and ungratefulness again...."YEP".
Well, I really have nothing better to do.  "Fuck YOU".
I couldn't even keep a job right now......"I don't care".
Is all this to prove I'm whimpy?
People deal with much worse stuff.
Dr. Maguire said I was definitely disabled.
But that doesn't mean I can't do something for 2 hours a week, it would have to be volunteer...no one hires for 2 hours a week.
I just feel so unstable all the time.
Anne said, "If you work Beth, you are crazy,"
"Wrong"?
Yeah right, what does she care, she has a husband.  "pussy".
What about the coffee....that must be it says the psychologist.
Now the voice says, "Right!"
Well am I right or wrong?
I'd like to listen to some music right now, but they really swear at me when I do that.
Evie is home---Why does this make me paranoid all of a sudden?
Is there danger?--Could be?  Does Evie place the pens?
"Creepy"....a little bit
Fixed another coffee---the kitchen floor is really creeky, that must be why Evie always hears me.
"Yep."
Should I, Could I, be utterly catatonic?
Evie calls--she sounds happy.
Relief
A car honks---What did that mean?  It always means something.
Voices I can't make out...sounds like "Fuck you...and Whore."
I can hear the mubles from Evies t.v.
Precious just ate, she will probably sleep now.
Great now the hummmm of the fridge...making me succeptable to more voices.
Now I am concentrating.  "Good".
I can hear my own gusts twisting.
Have another cigarette--boredom/concentration....I heard a "screw you" at that comment...so guilt for smoking, but I tell myself I can not care about everything.
"HO."
Yelling outside...yelling at me?
Please don't read my journal.
Safety? Privacy?
Never alone and always self conscious.
Yeah, I can work right now, I'll get right on it.
What is a schedule?
"Whore."
I need to check the propane.  I don't want to.
I am afraid.
I don't want to run into those yucky old men who comment on my "street walking".
"OK Beth."
I gotta pee, too much coffee...Come up for some fresh air and check the mail.  "HO". 
"You Are."
I hear that a lot too.

quotes mean voices

The Triple X-Files--God I love a Man in Uniform!

Let me start by saying Pissing Off a HOT cop is highly recommended for her pleasure.....

What is a cry help other than a person at their wits end?  Technically you could say I was going through a med change and it was really rough.  I still choose to see it another way, and my med situation has greatly improved--Or has it?  Well, I'm a lot less agitated by the loud people that come out of the bar next to my apartment.  Had they really been saying my name and harassing me?  Logically, NO.  We'll chalk it up to med change.  There I said it.

Now out with my truth. 

There is really no doubt in my mind that the people from the bars and surrounding houses were harassing me.  And there was really no doubt in my mind about it when I went so far as to call the police about it.
The call went something like this:

ME:  Officer I'm being harassed.  People are stalking me.
Officer:  Are you letting them into your house?---Don't let them in.
ME:  No, my house is always locked but they have keys and come in and move things.
Officer:  I see, Do these people say your name?
ME:  Yes, they say my name and rude things.
Officer:  *Almost Chuckles*  This is a mental health issue.  Do you take meds?
ME:  Yes, and I see a doctor.  But this is for real. 
Officer:   I can't help you with this--call your doctor.

I hang up frustrated and agitated.  A little time passes with more yelling from the bars and I'm furious!
Maybe if I talk to an officer in person they will believe me. 
At the police station, the lady at the window calls an officer to talk too and tells me to wait.  When the officer arrives unfortunately for me it is the same one I spoke with on the phone.  I'm sitting in the breeze way of the police station and the officer is standing over me in very police man fashion. 

I plead my case all over again, trying to appear as sane as possible.  Giving him the "you got to believe me look, and the please help me, save me look."  All the while trying not to notice how attractive he is. 
(something like Adonis in a uniform, with a badge and gun....I really am going to burn in hell for the subsequent fantasies....even now I am lecturing myself...Beth, he has a very serious job to do, being a police man is a very noble profession.....goddamn it this isn't working...he still looks like a sex toy.)
Anyway, more pleading and arguing my sanity, but it doesn't work.  Again he explains there is nothing the police can do.  This pisses me off.  I get angry because I know how crazy I sound and half because I know he's placating a crazy person.

I'm suddenly all too aware how stupid this attempt to be heard is.  I get up and start to leave saying, "this is so stupid."  
The officer thinks I called him stupid, and in his most STOP or I'll say STOP again voice he says, "now you're calling me stupid?"  the tone of his voice warning, and do you know how stupid it is to insult an officer? (it probably took me a week to get over my disappointment at not being believed, until I figured out how hot this police man was, he even said my name in the voice *orgasm*..yeah i know, twisted and yeah I hear Satan saying my name now too)... I mutter back that he's not stupid, but my life is and anything I try to do about it.

BUT- here is the stupid part...

This officer thinks I'm completely off my rocker right?  And without so much as a call to my doctor or anything, he lets me go on my merry mental way...

Now I've had case managers tell me over and over again that people can not tell I have an illness by looking at me.  What can you tell by looking at someone?  How could this officer know I was harmless?  And just let this crazy person go?  The "what if" scenerio goes like this:  The crazy person goes home disappointed and probably more tormented and attempts suicide.  Now the Officer is "hassled" again by a trip to the ER and possibly the mental hospital.  Or maybe the crazy person loses it and starts some kind of violence.  Is there really nothing they can do?  Especially, when this crazy person is making a cry for help....well, at this point there is nothing we can do...

Next time I'm going to be like, let's skip the drama and how about a ride to the ER sexy?
Honestly, shoot me, taze me, beat me, cuff me, stuff me, I"M GUILTY...DO something!

But NO, There's nothing we can do, Now on your merry MENTAL way.

Next story: 2 cops and ER nurse

Again I'll state: I do not cry wolf.  When and If I go to the ER I'm really at my wits end.  This particular time I was very suicidal and really thinking I was going to do something extremely stupid. 

Arriving at the ER there are 2 cops parked out front.  Apparently they take potentially violent seriously this time.  The officers are standing in the waiting room when I walk in.  From the looks of me and the cold stares of them, you could almost hear them say, "Ah, this is the one.  Do anything stupid and I'll shoot!"

I'm taken to a room, which is stripped bare.  We can't have suicidal people playing with sharp objects.  The door is left open so the police men can keep an eye on the "psycho."  The nurses station is right in front of my room.  As the police man walks into my view I hear him say, "I'd like to HURT HER."  To which the nurse replies something about how she's had enough of psychos for one night. 

I guess in the boonies, where I live one can not expect people to be very picky about who they give guns&badges to, or nursing licenses.  But then again who would put their lives on the line to "serve" these "degenerate psychos"?  They are happy they have a jobs, you can not expect them to honor the description.

But by God, the police officer and the nurse had agreed on one thing.  This person (suicidal or not) is definitely not worth our time and effort!  And for that they were so pleased with themselves and happily flirted with each other all starry eyed like they just met their soul mate.

Meanwhile back in the stripped bare room the suicidal person is watching, rolling her eyes...trying not hear "Let's get it on" in her head.

I can hear my friend Meg say, "For Real, Beth, did they say that for real?"

No Meg, it's all in my twisted head....just forget about it....I try too.

The Lioness--A Bright Light

         I have this friend or should I say "had" this friend, an  exboyfriend actually.  He revels in absurdities, vulgarities, and obsencities.  Most the time I would laugh along with him while he was making his crude jokes.  I thought he was pretty funny until he aimed his vulgarities at me.  He couldn't have hurt me more if he sliced open my guts, stabbed me in the heart with a penn knife and twisted it, and decapitated me. 
        After our conversation, there was depression and psychosis.  As I eyed my meds nervously wondering which one would do the job of putting me to sleep forever.  I felt tramatized by what he said, and how it related to my psychosis.  My voices mocking me the whole time, I stalked away from my meds refusing to cry.  They laugh at me when I cry.  Blankly drawing little flowers over and over in my journal, I couldn't write much about it.  Not crying causes my heart freeze up into a solid block of ice.  The parts left beating cry out, "STOP! This HURTS!"

         I have to lay down now, it's probably 3 am but I can't sleep.  I can at least pretend I'm resting and being boring so the people watching me might piss off.  The aching beats of my heart make me wish I would just have a heart attack and done with it.  But there is a voice inside my head that says, "It's not time."  So I think, "What if I just lay here for a few days? Would anyone notice?"  Again the voice in my head reminds me, "you need cigs and the cat needs food."   I contemplate going out for these things, however the fear has me in it's grip.  All night I've been telling myself, "I have to do this alone.  I can't bug my family anymore.  I'm going to be alone someday.  I need to learn to deal with this.  Emergency Services does nothing and I don't feel like going to the ER.  I have to make it through this voices mocking me and all."

         By 8am I can't take it anymore and decide to go talk to mom.  First stopping in a store for cigs.  In the store a man eyes me and says loudly, "I DON"T CARE!"  My heart sinks, how can people not care if you're suicidal?  God people are mean. 

          I'm at mom's bedside by 8:30 am.  "Mumma, wake up, I need to talk."  Half awake she says, "Ok, put on a pot of coffee."  We sit at the kitchen table and mom still in her morning stupor lets me talk it out and cry. 
".....the pain is the healing, and the tears sting like alcohol."   Slowly the ice around my heart begins to melt and it resumes it's normal beat.  The chest pain subsides as I cry.

           All t:he talking boils down to my ex online is a real jerk for saying what he said, and I'm still upset over my last relationship.  "He doesn't love me anymore Mum! and I still love him!"  At noon I'm back at my apartment still balling my eyes out......"why must I always be alone?...."

        I gather myself together enough to feed the cat and get the mail.  There is a Christmas card in there from an old friend.  The card is full of happy pictures we took recently.  I smile happily at these and whisper to my friend, "Thank you, I love you."  I guess I lost a friend, but another was right there for me, just in time to make my day.  "YAY! Sunshine!"  This is my friend the Leo.  Now I'm going to speak in terms of astrology, because I love it......Deal with it.

ENTER:  THE LIONESS

The scene is the prairie at high noon.  The lioness, her mate, and her adopted cubs are all sunning themselves lazily enjoying the sun and napping.  The lioness is roused from her slumber.  "What am I going to do about this girl?"  she thinks....

She walks over to the shaded area at the edge of the fields, she looks in amoung some rocks,  " Come out of your deep, dark pitt of despair, Your Wretchedness!"  she commands.  When the queen of fire summons you- you tend to listen.  Sluckily I slither out of my darkness.  The Lioness--"You should sun bathe."  This is all she says and jogs back to her pride.  As I coil myself in the sun and contemplate the brightness, meditating on the lioness and how generously she takes care of the ones she loves.  It fills me with warmth thinking about our friendship.  Gently the sun soothes my dark spell.  "I guess it's not so bad, I think, I have lion friend.  I'm not so alone."  Slowly but surely the snake sheds her bitter skin and morphs and morphs in the sun until she is The Lady Eagle and flying high over the prairie again.