Depression Pills

I've decided to get rid of all the depression "crazy" pills that I have acquired over the past several years from a variety of doctors. Each believing that they could 'cure' me of the awful demons that lurks in my mind by putting me on some sort of mind altering drug. I would try the Psychiatrist's choice of drug through 2 or 3 refills. By that time I would begin experiencing the side effects that accompany most psychiatric drugs. Sometimes I would feel so depressed, that I thought the world was going to crumble in around me, and the only way to end my misery was to take my life. The other side effects, were at times just as bad. Some made me not able to sleep, or over sleep, most made me gain weight, and made it nearly impossible to achieve an orgasm. So I would quit taking the drugs and feel okay from the side effects for a little while, but soon the depression would again return. I then would find myself looking for another doctor. This time I'm not going to look for another doctor.
I can't believe how many I had…they are like a reminder of who I am, and I don't want to be reminded any more. I want to let go of all the things from my past…I want to move on…without the pills.


List of my pills Lithium Carb 300mg, Carbamazepine 200mg, Zoloft 100mg, Depakote 250mg, Effoxor xr 75mg, Paxil 30mg, Celexa, Wellbutrin

Bush Kills 3000...

Daily U.S. Casualties
As of Sunday, at least 2,766 members of the U.S. military have died since the beginning of the Iraq war in March 2003, according to n Associated Press count. The figure includes seven military civilians. At least 2,198 died as a result of hostile action, according to the military’s numbers.
The British military has reported 119 deaths; Italy, 33; Ukraine, 18; Poland, 17; Bulgaria, 13; Spain, 11; Denmark, 6; El Salvador, 4; Slovakia, three; Estonia, Netherlands, Thailand, 2 each; and Australia, Hungary, Kazakhstan, Latvia, Romania, on death each.
3001 men have died so far because of President George Bush.

Forgive me if my mind wonders

What if early just before dawn, you woke and thought about your past, your life, your accomplishments; would you be anybody? Or would you be a person hiding in the shadows, rarely seen, just living day to day without thought or reason? When death came, would your life make the headlines? Or would you be another soul that just drifted away?

Back in the eighties, Ronald Regan decided people with mental illness no longer needed to locked up in the state mental hospitals, instead they were to be set free. They were giving free or reduced housing, food stamps, free medical, and a check each month that helped to pay their other bills. People like me took advantage of what was giving to us and we tried to make our lives as livable as we could in the outside world. I learned as much as I could about illness, so that I could at least understand why I acted the way I did most of the time. My problem was I couldn’t live with the solution that they offered…pills and more pills. I left the pills alone after trying many different types and combinations; finding no relief I decided to live my life just the way I was; good or bad.

I found it nearly impossible to control my actions long enough to be able to properly interact with strangers who were around me. I couldn‘t control my anger. I would get so mad at a person that all I could think about was wanting to put my hands around their throats and not letting go until they could no longer breathe. It made me feel like a loser if I did the things they ask. As much as I wanted to control my actions, I couldn’t.

In the eyes of law enforcement, we are drains on society, but we are tolerated by most others. Law enforcement sees as lower life forms, they feel far superior to us. Mostly due to the fact that individuals like me with mental illness, at one time or the other has had an encounter with law enforcement, usually due to some type of mental breakdown which can be a very stressful encounter for the officer who does not have experience handling someone with a mental disease.
I think that’s why I post on my blogs, I want the world to one day see how mental illness plays with the mind. I don’t want to forever be remembered as a drain on society, I want to somehow show that I can be productive member that gave something of their life back to others.

It's all a lie...

All of it is a lie
None of it is true.
I'm so sorry about all the things
I put you through.
It was just a way for me to set free
All the crazy thoughts that won't let me be.
I think I'm okay,
At least I feel that way today.
Maybe tomorrow things will be different
And I'll find a better way
To express the things I have to say.
My secret is still deeply concealed,
but hopefully if I continue doing this, I will be healed.
I hope in the end I will be set free.
Free from the hurt and free from the fears
Free from this world of everlasting tears.

Should I do what they say, "Go on with your life."
Why can't I? I know why!
Because, it has made me who I am.
If I went on, I would leave ME behind. So what now?
Sometimes things don't end up the way we thought they would.

Each step along the way
What should be black or white
Suddenly is shades of gray.

Tales from the Hood

Tales from the Hood.

I had been out of rehab for about a year, when I decided to move back to Nowata. Three days after I moved into a small two bedroom house with my best friend at the time, I met back up with an old gang member that I had hung out with in the past. He was into an argument with my next door neighbor, who was 6 months pregnant at the time. Apparently she owed him some money and she didn’t want to pay him back at that time, but he didn’t want to take no for answer. When I stepped outside to see what was going on, he was shouting at her at the top of his lungs saying how much of a bitch she was. He saw me and in a fit of rage told me to not trust the fucking bitch because she was a narc.

I wasn’t using any drugs at the time, so I didn’t really feel that would be a problem for me, but I trusted what he had to say. He didn’t have a car and lived all the way on the other side of town, so he asked me if I could give him a ride home. I didn’t have anything else to do, so I invited him in while I got my jacket and keys. I told him I just moved back in town, and was just starting my second year of college He was still doing pretty much the same thing from when I knew him 2 years earlier; robbing houses and stealing for money, all so he could keep using drugs.
We talked a lot about our past, and told each other our own “War Stories” about how we barely got away from the law. It wasn’t long before I was agreeing to a party that week-end at my house with a few of his gang friends. I don’t know why I agreed, I guess the lure of that kind of lifestyle was just to intriguing to say no too.

It was one wild party that week-end. In all over 15 gang members showed up, along with a few of their friends. I had bought over $70 worth of hard liquor and 6 point beer from Kansas so there was plenty enough for everyone to drink until they puked. Liquor wasn’t the only drug available, in my bathroom there was a group of guys sharing a needle, shooting up crank. In another room there were several people smoking weed, which I joined. Before I realized it I was talked into giving a ride to a few of the guys to a house on the west side of town. I was drunk and high but somehow I managed to make it where we were going without wrecking. I waited in the car as they ran in to pick up ‘something’. The next thing I knew everyone came running out of the house, and the sounds of gunfire rang throughout the air. I put my car in gear and was ready to get the hell out of there when 4 of the gang quickly re-entered my car and began shouting go.
We drove for several miles as I listened to them brag about robbing the house we were just at. I thought I had gotten away from that kind of lifestyle but there I was right in the middle of a robbery, and I didn’t say no. We went back to my house where they divided up the loot, even given me a cut since I was the driver. I was now a part of the gang whether I wanted to be or not. For the next few weeks I became a more active member of the gang, robbing, stealing, doing drugs, and just being a menace. The police looked at me as the leader because I was the oldest one in the group by 7 months, and I had the transportation that allowed for our criminal activities to take place.

I hated the lifestyle at times, but at other times it was the only thing that made me feel alive, and that feeling I wanted to forever feel.