I find myself in one of those group therapy sessions again. Life can be so ****ed up, and it is really sad that the only way some of us can get someone to talk to about all of their bottled up emotions from constant bad memories is to be admitted and processed the american way of seeking advise. You live everyday, but can not get passed horrible moments from the past because when those events occurred, the people you are close to turn away and refuse to give you advise. When **** happens in my family they always get the advise they need and go on in their selfish, self-centered egotistical endeavors and live healthy happy life, but they kick my sadness under the rug and ignore my existence. Over many years I have had to hide my inner thoughts because of the bullies I live with. My sister a few years ago was just earning her degree for psychiatry and thought she would use her own brother as a test subject. She convinced everyone in my family that I was bipolar, and the next thing I know the cops are at my house and I am 5150. Oh how wonderful that whole experience was, to be treated like I am insane and be so dehumanized and humiliated all because of my sister. I had to go on drugs that were making me crazy and gained 150 pounds. Thats right folks I was 170 and went to 325. All from these antidepressants, temazepan, diazepam, clonozapam, lithium, ambien, gabapemton. These drugs are killing a lot of people, and the irony is they are supposed to ease stress. If you take to many lithium pills you get a toxicity and your body goes into shock and death can occur. Really? A prescribed pill for suicidal patients that can eventually kill me if I take too many? Irony?

So I find myself in a circle with other ****ed up people. One of those groups, no yelling, calming music, happy, HAPPY, HAPPY! We sit with a therapist who was just like Martha Stewart, and she wants to hear all of our problems in hopes she could be superwoman and save us. Some of the group members properly rehabilitated were super christians. God saved them and I should denounce my faith and rejoice within their faith. Now I thought about schizophrenia and praying reminded me a lot of about talking to imaginary people, or your so called friends in your head. So I was not too sure, after all, once before I had already been subjected to forced shock therapy because of that mental state, but if I were to pray it would be acceptable in american society to have jesus as your imaginary friend. The hours go by and I have learned to really only rely on my own thoughts now. I don't really feel like expressing feelings inside and have kind of become a cold fish. But thats life and the way my parents see it, my sister did the right thing and I should forget all the memories and pretend nothing ever happened and live happily ever after.

I can really relate to this. Isn't it strange how dr's give us mood enhancers, yet street drugs have the same effect? Yet people warn us not to take street drugs. I keep wondering what is actually in them. I'd get slightly angry if some ingredients in anti-depressant's were what was in recreational drugs, because then I might aswell just take ANY drug. These pharmarcies rely on people to be ill, so that they make money, but it's awful.

Wow, wow, wow...So much to think about....It pizzes me off, makes me sad, and makes say thanks for sharing....You write good Sasch!!