TASERING

I put up my last post at the behest of my son.

I was in a rush and I don’t know if I said it right.

At the time everybody was very mat at me and I didn’t know why. I was very angry at them and I didn’t understand that everybody else was very angry at me.

For one thing the coffee was searing, homemade hot coffee fresh from a pot.

I went to a hospital. Finally, my mother came to pick me up after about 18 days. She brought me here but I didn’t want to stay. I flew back down to Florida and got an apartment with her monetary help. I paid some, she paid some. At the apartment complex they didn’t want me. I ended up sliding back into the house in Seminole. Only my son was there at the time. Sandy must have been out on contract.

Then, I stayed a while; then “shit happened.” Here is where I stop remembering because of the tasering. It feels like a black hard black nothing. There are dozens of things to say. Traumas, pain, good things too! The prom where everything as just right. I feel like I am sitting on all of this–good or bad–but it’s beenabout 15 years now and it is never going to be released to me. It is stuck in the mire of this tasering glob. I don’t have the word for it.

In the bizarre apartment that I moved into in downtown Easton as a part of the divorce, I would lay down on the couch in the evening and I would get spasms, it felt like electrical jolts running through my whole body. It would go on for about 15 minutes. And my mind was blank except for what was happening.

It is healing to talk about it. Or, rather, write about it. Just to get it out. Whomsoever may be reader this, thank you for listening.

My history since then has been mayhem. I don’t think about all that anymore, just about preserving my life from my overdoses over which I didn’t seem to have any control. But the last one did it. I don’t think I will ever go that again. 5 days in the ICU. An intubation (tube down my throat); nothing to drink for about 5 days, a feeding tube. It was very, very serious.

Maybe I can finally move beyond that. It was disfiguring and destroyed my personality. It would take decades to restore myself from that, which would be my usual way–to do it for myself.

Recently is has been coming to me to trust a little; then may I can trust more. Then maybe I will trust a lot, enough to be healed well enough to live and appreciate the years I have left to live; even if it’s actually only months.

I just pray that anybody who wants to harm me be aware of this situation in my life and cease from wanting to. Any reason there may seem to be has long gone by. I have let my grief against old psych providers go into obsolescence. I am feeling like a real human being for the first time in my life. There are so many odd and mixed up contradictions here.