…now I see it!
Excuse me, I only got 3 hours sleep and I don’t do too well with that but I have a breaking realization in regard to my current posting that just has to come out.
The Lamictal overdose in November of 2016 was the worst thing I ever did to harm myself. I am just now finally beginning to recover from it and that is gelling just right with where I am at with this posting about the Japanese Holocaust. That’s 7 years of recovery. And I will never be fully myself again. Lamictal is an anti-seizure medicine used in psychiatry for mood and other problems, for me it worked on my seizure/spasms problem, unofficially. But it kept me out of the hospital. Then, because of the overdose, I was in the hospital for about two years.
So, yes, I see a direct connection where I am led through the horror of, for instance, the Lamictal rash that you can get from taking too much or taking it improperly–this was my safeguard in case the overdose didn’t kill me in itself, the rash would kill me. Then, when I did wake up from the overdose, I got touch of the rash. It turns out that it kills you by making your skin fall off in chunks. Also, I had to be intubated for 5 days, it’s ghastly when they pull the tube out. 7 years later I still have trouble swallowing and I have lost the simple pleasure of drinking water. And, in the ICU, I couldn’t have any liquid at all. It was all I thought for???I don’t remember how many days, In the main part of the hospital I was begging for ice chips for days and a kind staffer who was assigned one on one to me was letting me have as many as I wanted. I wasn’t supposed to get them but I don’t think I would have lived without them. After that I had a female one on one for at least a month, something I had never had the benefit of before in 30 some years of psych history (at that time.) I wasn’t aware of how bad it was for me. The doctor tried to explain. I thought I could just get up and go home. He pointed out that that in itself was evidence of my absence of reality testing or some such. Then I had a horrific stay on a psych unit and a horrendous stay on an Extended Acute Care Unit for a long time, then I got to go to a personal boarding care home for a few months but my mother didn’t want to pay any more so I came here. in April of 2018. Since then I have been in touch. Actually, I blogged through everything except the main hospital.
So, yes, maybe it wasn’t an atom bomb but I was pretty frigging sick in the kind of way that only modern chemicals and procedures can make you sick. I don’t think that in can be expurgated. That stuff got into my fiber. My mother reported that the doctor said I was 2 hours from death when they brought me in. The poison had gotten to my liver. I don’t know why this is relevant to suffering in Asia but the Lord showed me in a glimpse that it is. This is frustrating.
All of this started with my idea that I was a “paintaker for Mutually Assured Destruction.” There is a reason and a purpose for people who sit at home or on psych wards or both just staying alive–in pain and suffering–they are keeping the line on things exactly like this and now this is coming to a head because I SAY SO and I CAN because I have seniority in this regard as a 61 year old woman SIDELINED for the wrong reasons for 40 years on psych wards and I have the right to make calls here. I saw my pain and suffering and DAMAGE of these last 7 years rising to a level where I could genuinely relate to the suffering in Japan, looking back now, from the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki 77 years ago. AS in my case–the damage was done a long time ago and is just materializing now. I am an expert on weird pain and suffering; held in abeyance for years; acting a part to stay alive; morphing to handle situations as a matter of life and death; smarts. Pride and acting desperately to protect things of immense value: a culture, an ancient and beautiful culture in jeopardy. In short, I am an Englishwoman and also an American and have fought to toe that line all my life. It comes down to being 1) a Jew for Jesus and 2) a Christian; and those two things are VERY different from one another and full of conflict.
So that’s me and that’s where I am at and that’s what God just showed ME about why he is calling me to do this. I do not know whether it will make any sense to my reader and I do not see it all. It is the most uncomfortable place I have ever been.
My friend A. is such a comfort to me even in this.
Un.Bon.Mot 