The Patient

 Hospitals and doctors can be a bit overwhelming at times. They distract me from my life and from my hobbies and purpose. Recently my encounter with a doctor has plunged me into months more of med changes. I don't even think I need these changes or  new medication regime but I was convinced at the time of the session that it would be for the best. It is dragging on a process that I really wish I could put behind me. I am going to have to endure these changes and just hope that I am doing the right thing by prolonging my status as a "patient". I have played this role many, many times in my life.

Psychiatrist

 Every 1.5 months or so I see a psychiatrist (who is the consult) for my bipolar disorder. We are trying to get my meds together so that I get maximum benefit and bearable side effects. I am pushing for a particular cocktail, one that was my staple, or bread and butter, for a long time before I got sick and had my med-free episode in 2023. We are gradually working our way towards that, and some changes were made with that end in mind.

It's a shame that there is so much stigma around bipolar disorder and schizophrenia. We, who suffer with the illness, should be free to talk about it at length with anyone and not fear judgment, repercussions, or stigma. The stigma is so real, it prevents some people with the illness from getting the help they need, because they feel shame. I myself am very careful who I open up to about my illness, which is a huge downside to actually having it.

It's like I lead a double life. One with my psychiatrist where we talk openly about my symptoms and experiences, and the life that's for show - the visage that I have to put on just to survive day-to-day amongst people who at worse don't even recognize that you have anything wrong with you. I am referring to the neighbours here and the various people of the neighbourhood - people that I see daily.

It's a tricky, thin line because on the one hand, one doesn't want to associate too closely with their illness and make it their life (they want it to be one factor of themselves only), but on the other hand, one cannot all but hide the fact that they have a very debilitating illness. I've seen people who were mentally ill who were proud of their illness and who mention it to anyone, and I've heard of people who were victims of their illness and died. I myself, sometimes forget that I have this illness, as during my episode in 2023 I convinced myself 100% that I was "normal", and sometimes suffer as a result. I don't go around broadcasting my illness to everyone because A) they know so little and B) I'm sort of convinced now that they really don't care.

Slayer Burger

 There is a restaurant in my neighbourhood called "Slayer Burger". I believe this is a chain - it has the air of being one. But I must say their burger (and fries) tastes a lot better than your average burger chain. Now, the prices are relatively high, I must say.

My classic burger combo came to $25 with tax and tip. But one thing I enjoyed is the burger came pre-made with condiments and toppings, as if individually curated by the restaurant thus alleviating the need to make those decisions at the individual level. 

The burger itself was very nice, as I said, especially for a chain. It tasted like ground beef and had a good consistency. I am not such a fan of the smash burger option, as I have tried that in the past. But classic was good. I thought a double would have been a good idea but after having consumed the single, 5 oz, I will say that was plenty. I went away feeling full.

The fries are excellent too. They tasted fresh and crispy, and came with a side of dip which I think was a form of mayonnaise. Ketchup would have been nice, but I just elected not to ask for that condiment to go with the meal.

Altogether, I recommend "Slayer Burger" and I give it a 4/5.

One point on the dining atmosphere: the restaurant was clean and pleasant but there was an obnoxious (in my opinion) soundtrack playing in the background which was loud heavy-metal classic rock, as near as I could figure.

The Waves of a Lifetime

 The year is 2026. Rewind twenty years and find me in a dorm room at my university, positioned for a new job at a prestigious company, and wrapping up one of my last semesters of my degree (paid for by my late Grandfather). Everything seemed fine. Faced with a decision, to room with a friend or acquaintance or move back home and exist within my family. I chose the latter.

I should have sensed the turbulence. I was a successful bachelor absorbed in a life of doing the bare minimum in school (and passing everything) and marathoning South Park (laughing a ton) and playing several computer games. I even beat Half-Life 2 on increasing difficulties. My point is, I had pretty much figured myself out. More than you can say for a lot of final-year students at university. I had figured out how to live, for the most part, except for the cooking. But even that I was passing at.

It was coming back to a family that is so toxic they make you want to run that was my mistake. It couldn't have gone worse. I started talking back to my father (big mistake) and that led to physical abuse and everyone in the family getting involved. It wound up with holes in the walls that I punctured with my feet and fists. I was fine when I was in my room, absorbed in an SNES rom or going out to see friends, but basically, my life was hell. I knew that I had my job to look forward to and was gearing up for that.

Pretty much the worst possible outcome happened that anyone could imagine. I wound up in the mental hospital. I hadn't slept for a while and came to see my mom. At the time I was struggling with my identity, wondering if I was a homosexual. I agreed (this was at 4 am) that I would seek some help and get some feed back on my life. 2 hours later and I was behind a curtain with security guard blocking my access to escape.

Leave aside the fact that I was wondering if I was gay (I think a lot of people go through this), but I was basically led into the psych ward and detained and medicated for 3.5 weeks against my will, with no one telling me when I was getting out.

For myself in particularly, getting thrown into an insane asylum is perhaps the most horrific experience imaginable. So, in the span of 6 months, I went from swinging bachelor to mental patient for life. I say "for life" because once you are put on these drugs, no matter how much you struggle, it is pretty much impossible to get off them. It's 20 years later, and I am still struggling. You could say, just accept it (and I try), but it is really hard to get a foot out of bed. When you're fat and impotent due to the meds, and nobody understands you outside of your mental health, it is very difficult to keep swallowing these damn pills.

But I have figured out something drastic. I am remembering the man I was, the young man who slept through classes in his 4th year of university in his dorm room. Stay away. Stay far the fuck away from my family. Right now, that means my father. You cannot collide with these people without something terrible happening. That was just my fate, growing up in that household. A man grown now, several times over, I have to realize the poison that is them. Even if I am drawn by a desire to help him, I cannot go back to my father. I can re-enter the mind of the person that I was. And perhaps, there is even some hope of living a healthier life (perhaps with minimal medication - although this could take another decade).

"Little Miss Sunshine"

 I saw this movie in theatres when it came out, in 2006. I thought it was a decent movie at the time, and in recent days, I have purchased it on Amazon Prime Video. I saw it a couple more times. I have a feeling it's trying to be a comedy, but I barely laughed.

The most interesting character is Frank Ginsburg, who is the brother of the main female lead, who is gay and a well-known Proust scholar. He says some interesting things. I recall a conversation he has with Dwayne (the son) on a pier in California where he mentions that the years in which we suffer are also the years in which we grow. Apparently Marcel Proust had this realization at the end of his life, learning that he learned the most during his "worst" years.

Dwayne absorbs this wisdom. I appreciate that Frank shared it. I like almost all the characters in the movie. Richard, the father, shows enormous persistence in pursuing his dream of being a motivational speaker and author. I found it entertaining when he leaves the hotel at night to travel to Scottsdale to seek out Stan Grossman to find out once and for all what is happening with his "motivational career". The scene where Stan bursts Richard's bubble and tells him that his idea isn't going anywhere is a good one. Stan, played by Bryan Cranston, is so direct I found the encounter between the two characters quite satisfying.

The movie is full of memorable scenes and although it didn't quite achieve being a comedy, or making me laugh, it was good standing on its own laurels. I wish we had some sort of resolution after the final scenes at the beauty pageant, regarding Richard's bankruptcy or even Frank's situation regarding his homosexual crush or career. Nothing was really wrapped up in this regard - it seemed the purpose of the movie was to get Olive to Little Sunshine Sunshine and to end after this objective was over.

Overall, the movie was good enough to watch several times and keep me interested, and the continuity was good. I have been sick for the past week so I have needed something to keep me entertained while resting. For some reason I haven't been able to concentrate on reading that well with this cold, so a movie was a good substitute.

Books, new ideas

 I've read a series of books since the last post, and I have also been remiss in keeping up with regular blogging. I am on yet another new medication regimen (increased lithium) and I'm hoping this one will stick. I don't really feel like undergoing more future med changes, or tinkering with this cocktail any more. I can think, (even if I can't feel too well), and I should be satisfied with that.

I am, however, plagued with constant music in my head. And I mean 90% of the time (including while asleep) I have some form of repetitive tune going on in my mind. The mind is an interesting idea, because it is separate from the physical brain, but still a product of neurons and the various mechanics of brain science.

I would like to write a book at some point, but I think, for now, the medium I should be concerned with is blogging. I don't have a formulated idea for a book - for a novel - just yet. I am guided by my friend to just start writing and the idea will form. I like that notion, but, that is just like blogging. After all, I aim to make these posts just one idea after another.

I just have to stick to regular blogging and keep this thing going. Thanks for reading.