Fueled by Monster and Sam Kinison

Good Morning, Gang!  I am out of the spa, clearly.  Was released into the wild Friday.  I went in two weeks ago Wednesday.  The head of the trauma program at the spa left Thursday for job unknown.  So, there’s like, no leader.  I get a case manager Monday who is the temporary (?) head of Trauma and he promises to see me three times a week.  Okay, first rule of trauma- NEVER promise anything to a trauma survivor you can’t follow through on.  This fucking piece of shit, I see him Monday and I didn’t see him again till Yesterday when I was at Partial Hospital.  WTF???!!!!  Thanks, ass hat.  Thanks ass.  Can you say, Recipient Rights Violation?  I think we can.

So, Tuesday is Anger- to those of us before the new regime came and went and changed it to- “Feel your Feelings”.  Which was like, the mantra of trauma program- “Feel ypour feelings and stay safe”.  Now, it’s a clusterfuck.  So, I step up to throw some clay balls against the backboard to relieve myself of pent up rage towards my main perpetrator.  Cuz, the act of feeling the anger, and chucking a clay ball- hard- overhand at a board and hearing that SMACK!!! while you’re getting your feelings out is very cathartic.  Ice cubes in the sink work when nothing else is acceptable or available.  So, I switched.  I started with My main Perpetrator, by my thrid word, my protector and all around motherfucker part, Matthew (he holds my rage), came out.  The last thing I remember was throwing a clay ball up above the board and denting a ceiling vent above and to the right of the board.

The next thing I remember was moving closer and closer to the board in a rage fueled frenzy.  Then, at the end, I remember saying, “Why don’t you move down in FL to the Everglades *smack*, sit down *smack* put chicken around your neck *smack* and send me a picture.  I walked it off myself.  Calmed my system down myself.  Scared the other two patients.  Cuz I think, if I remember correctly, I got into details which your not supposed to do.  But I was so enraged that you really- let’s just say:Telling Matthew or myself to reel it in at that point is a REALLY bad idea.  So, went about my day.  This was Tuesday.  Took till Thursday for my arm not to twinge with pain.  Now I know how baseball pitchers feel- OI!!!

But, come Wednesday- No case manager.  No debriefing.  Okay.  This is fucked up.  So I’m left to bleed out and process this emotional violent hairball by myself because the teacher of the class is fucking burned out and I got no case manager?  REALLY?!!!  Then this chick bounces up to me like Tigger Wednesday telling me my case manager is gone and we’ll  be working on my Master Treatment Plan.  WTF, OVER???!!!!  Uh, o fucking kay.  Fuck you.

Thursday- still no case manager.  Friday- my stalker shows up.  This chick, like two years ago tried to seduce me, and I don’t play for that team.  I had female abusers.  When the rubber hits the road in a sexual way with a female, I got nothing.  You’re on your own.  Too much baggage.  I’ve done it, but that was before the flashbacks.  Anyways, so on top of all this emotion, on top of no case manager, I got someone stalking me in the psych hospital.  Who is there INVOLUNTARILY!  WTF???!!  I feel like I’m beyond Nurse Ratchett- cuz 98% of the staff at the View are Saints in training- takes a special person to work with the mentally ill.  I’m beginning to feel like ‘m in a Salvador Dali painting.  Nah, Escher.  But, Friday I left.

I felt like an Escher painting because I was healing. And I was around a bunch of actively sick people.  Gets on your damn nerve.

So, I d/c Friday.  That was a circus.  But, I’m out and doing really well.  Went to Indy for the weekend.  Visited a friend.  Was just what I needed.  A break from the same ol same ol.  And Mother’s Day was good.

But yesterday I had a major revelation in a trauma class.  Major.  Shook my foundation.

So, I have to go and get ready for partial now.  There’s too much that happened.  But, I actually remembered my friend’s schedule.  Three days later- Cohesion is coming.  Dr. Ross is coming to the hospital Thursday.  I’m hoping I can get a one on one with him.  I saw people and babies sacrificed.  I need to debrief.  I dented a ceiling fan.  I am in dire need of debriefing.

I hope you all have a great day and be grateful.  Gratitude for even the smallest of things that we overlook in this first world country is underrated.

Namaste, Beyotches!

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