My mental quandary of late is this: I know that opening one’s eyes does not mean they are awake. Flexing the leg because the sole is tickled does not mean they are awake unless they make a facial expression. Movement of the hands does not mean they are awake. Yawning does not mean they are awake.
Being awake requires a conscious response, such as blinking when told to do so, tracking movement with your eyes, attempts at communication when prompted. Squeezing the hand in response to command. If you do not have a conscious response you are not… actually… awake.
My family continues to chatter about my aunt being “awake.” She is not awake. She is acting via a reflex cycle and to normal day/night patterns thanks to her pineal gland. Her sodium has returned to normal levels, but her brain has not. Her decorticate posturing continues. She yawns because of the reflex related to the tube going down her nose.
I am so very pessimistic though, and I wonder if this is because I am in the medical field. Because I know that you don’t just “come back” from this stuff, and she has so much counting against her. Her heart, her kidneys, her lungs, the way she continues to retain water, the fact that none of us really knows why this happened and that the longer it takes for her to show consciousness, the less and less likely it is that she will. I wonder if it’s because Dad and I found her, and there are moments I can still smell what still seems to me to be death.
And yet… I can’t tell them that it’s unrealistic. I think someone should be hopeful and optimistic. I know it won’t be me, that’s all.
Madness strips things down to their core. It takes everything, and in exchange offers more madness, and the occasional ability to see things that are not there.
The problem with insanity is that you can feel it coming, but when you tell people you think you are going crazy they don’t believe you. It is too distant a concept. Too melodramatic. You don’t believe it yourself until you have fallen so quickly and so far that your fingernails are the only thing holding you up, balanced with your feet dangling on either side of a narrow fence with your heart and mind directly over center, so that when you do fall it will split you in two. Split equally. So there’s not even a stronger side left to win.
For mental illness the cure is not worse — because nothing is worse — but is just as bad as the disease. At the end of the end of the rope, after several years of trial and error, prescribed drug after drug, commitments, hospitalizations and three inexplicably unsuccessful suicide attempts, it came down to one last try.
Sequestered in the house that I had made, a madhouse in its own right, only leaving to see the doctor or for food, I am dosed with as much stardust* as a body can take without breaking, trying to balance the threat of organ failure against the redirection of the bio-chemical misfirings that conspire to convince me to destroy all.
*Lithium really is stardust. It is the 3rd to last element that an exploding star expels before it goes nova. Only hydrogen and helium come after).I am aware enough to know the things I see and hear are not real, but that does not mean I do not still see them.I have reached the point where if I do not have a photograph of something I cannot be certain it happened. So, locked inside the house with nothing else left, I shoot this. Heart & mind, hallucination & dream. I figure it could go one of two ways — I will either capture my ascension from madness to as much a level of sanity for which one of my composition could hope, or I will leave a document of it all, in the case that I should lose……Comes a point in telling the story where you have to stop trying to direct it and simply do as you’re told. Even if you like your characters you cannot force a happy ending…
So it’s never a good thing when a family member calls and says “Hey, we haven’t heard from your aunt in 3 days… can you go check on her?” Dad went down and immediately called me, and… yeah. My aunt was essentially comatose, and had to have been for at least a couple days.
The doctors don’t know why, either. Her CT was normal, and she has reflexes (the nurse was saying she was awake because of this, but I know better) but she’s also dehydrated. She’s in renal failure and congestive heart failure and recently returned to being type II diabetic and has been having respiratory infections and bladder infections recently. She’d recently doubled her antidepressants and her chronic pain medications, she was on antibiotics for her bladder infection, she was on blood thinners and on Lasix to take the fluid off her heart.
I want an EEG and an MRI, though they’re already putting her on IV antibiotics and that’s good. But a CT isn’t as good for soft tissue and I really… I really think she’s had a stroke. That or she OD’d on her hydrocodone and that makes me uncomfortable for more reasons.
And I’m babbling because it’s 1am and I don’t want to go to bed and dream about what we found when we went over there. Being the only younger person at the hospital (it was her brothers/sister/brother-in-law and me) made it… weird. Having medical training made it weirder. I had no idea how much medication she was on, and I… like I told my family, it’s like a house of cards. Too much of any one thing tips a card, and then everything starts falling down. But if she OD’d… like, I don’t know. The last time I saw her was two weeks ago to get some recipes, and I haven’t talked to her since, but she didn’t seem depressed. I’ve never seen her literally depressed. She’s hard to get along with (I won’t even pretend to explain the thing about her and my dad’s ex) and she complains a lot, and our family has been struggling to figure out how to help her and not lose their minds. So this whole scene at the hospital was like… It was like everyone was at a loss on how to feel.
I still don’t know how to feel. I’m gonna sit here and think into the morning though, and wonder what they find.
Anti-sj is kind of a term that sounds more extreme than it is and probably also doesn’t cover what most anti-sj blogs or people that agree with it are about.
We’re not anti social justice, or against help and equality or anything like that. We’re anti the aggressive counterproductive “pseudo helping” attitude that sometimes runs rampant on tumblr under the guise of social justice. It just became kind of easy to call the people against that anti-sj and most blogs ran with it.
So for the record, I’m not against social justice itself, I’m against the toxic and stupid tumblr brand. Let’s see if I can find a few examples real quick.
[safety is now discrimination]
Or that time that people running a blog all about how white people food is shit and stupid accidentally made fun of asian food on there and quickly apologized because you can’t insult asian food it was only garbage if it was white.
Or that time death treats were sent towards a innocent tumblr blogger who posted a photo of herself in a kimono because she was “culturally appropriating” despite if being a gift from her host family abroad.
Or that time that there was a news report about the death of a white 9 year old boy over racial bullying and people responded with “cry more white tears”
Or every single time when someone claims to be offended and it’s used as a excuse to bully or threaten everyone who opposes them. And then saying that you are silencing and tone policing if people object to hostile bullying behavior.
Or absolutely annihilating anyone over something offensive they’ve said in the past and deeming people problematic and trash because god nobody ever makes a mistake or says something wrong ever in their lives, right?
Basically the toxic attitude that isn’t helping anyone and has driven people away from good causes. No room for debate, questioning things isn’t allowed. Hiding behind social justice as a shield of immunity in general and abusing that. Seeking problems behind everything and using it as an excuse for abuse, aggression, restricting and bullying.
That is what I am against.
there’s 15 year olds on this website who already know they’re asexual that is incredible just incredible when I was 15 all I knew was that I was broken and that something was clearly wrong with me. say what you want about tumblr but I think we can agree that spreading knowledge about alternative sexualities is something done really well here and to the benefit of so many.
did you know when you suddenly jerk awake while falling asleep, another version of you from a different timeline just died
It’s actually because you’re heart rate decreased so quickly that you’re brain jerks you awake to make sure you’re still alive.
see also ”myoclonic jerk,” which is not, as it might sound, the person we all dated in high school.
Also “hypnic jerk.” I get these all the time when I’m not incredibly exhausted. Then my body’s like “nope don’t care if you’re dead. No time or energy to kick you back to life.”