Vulnerable Moments

Hello to my guarded fallen angels! Today was Christmas Day so instead of indulging in my self-pity, like I usually do, I decided to get out the house to hang out with some other young adults in DMHAS. The other clients are fake af. I don’t trust them at all. So the day started off with lunch at Home Town Buffet. I’m friendly with the girls like most gay men are but they were very odd today. It was the usual me-pretending-to-hit-on-them-to-make-the-guys-jealous bit. Dumbing-myself-down-to-associate-with-my-age-group bit. There was this one girl who was pregnant with her Nth child saying she was gonna plot to destroy one of her baby daddies. Yeah… what good is gonna come out of that, am I right? Geez… Then this other girl kept saying things in explicit detail about giving birth while I was eating. I didn’t like that. Also, the guys were observing me for some reason. I felt like the main attraction, “The Lone Homo Exhibit” and shit… I’m the only gay man in the whole program so the other guys usually avoid me or laugh at my dark, humorous jokes. The girls started talking about sex which is a topic I can definitely relate to. I indirectly mentioned that I do one-night-stands with guys I don’t know, which is true. They made these weird faces, even the guys, when I joked about it. So we can talk about nasty straight sex but the second I mention gay sex, it’s weird. And I know for a fact those bitches are hoes too. Today was very weird. Then at one point, I say it’s better off being single and alone but this one guy who knows me a tiny bit better than everyone else, replies that I actually hate being alone. I really didn’t like that for some reason. They kept watching me eat and commenting on every gesture or small movement I did. I usually complain about feeling invisible but maybe invisibility is a blessing and not a curse. I act so arrogant and bitchy around my peers and I was so in that zone that I forgot my “purse” (it’s really just one of those bags with a drawstring) when we left to go to the movie theatre. I was in the middle of watching the latest Star Wars movie when I suddenly realized my “purse” wasn’t on me. I went into the lobby to call one of the staff members to ask if they knew where my “purse” was. They assured me that they found it and put it in their state vehicle for me to get after the movie. The thing is, we all dispersed to watch different movies so our movies ended at different times. The staff I spoke to on the phone before I finished watching The Force Awakens called me back 8 times in a two minute timespan while my phone was on silent. I returned her call but she said she couldn’t wait for me any longer so she left. WTF, right? So the other staff member I’m actually a lot closer to was still in the movie theatre and there were several issues that occurred around the same time. I eventually got my “purse” back but still… Weird days like this makes me very grateful that I have an uneventful, dramaless, lonely life after all. Have a wonderful day! Over and out.

Feel free to like or comment on this post. I will always reply back to comments! And please check out my eBook: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B012BSPFCQ/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_awdm_EgmSvb1FDR2EB Thanks for reading ๐Ÿ™‚

MORE notes scribbled in haste

Part two of Notes scribbled in haste

My assigned therapist at the ER said I’m beyond repair,
To take these pills to null the pain of my problematic mind,
The seizure’s effects wore off afterย I gave up fighting off nurses,
I was afraid of needles at the time and an IV fell into that category,
So a note was written in the shrink’s notepad,
“Psych Evaluation diagnosis: patient must be admitted to the hospital for psychiatric treatment until further notice.”
I just left the week before and now I have to go right back to the psych ward,
When they brought me in on the stretcher to the day room,
The other patients looked up for a moment before they realized I wasn’t anything special,
But it was different this time around,
I wasn’t afraid enough to cower in my room anymore,
I stepped off the platform and sat right down next to the others,
A note was scribbled in haste on the whiteboard:
“Name: Sufian, Gender: Male,
room #: 23, Assigned therapist: Laura.”
So I guess it wasn’t total indiscretion,
Confidentiality prevented the staff members from writing more on the board,
Like why I was admitted this time,
Seizure due to drug overdose,
Failed suicide attempt chickened out at the last moment,
I was just gonna try again once I was released but where was I gonna live?
I scared my grandma half to death,
I remember pulling the emergency cord when I lost complete control of my body’s movement,
She came busting in and wondered what was happening,
I told her to call 9-1-1 but she didn’t know what I was saying,
Nieve-uno-uno, Nieve-uno-uno!
That she understood,
the ambulance came soon after but I was too heavy to lift onto the stretcher,
You’re a big boy. You gotta get on this stretcher yourself.
The woman told me but I just struggled to say I was seizing,
I brought myself back to the present but it was easier to stay in the past,
No one loved me anymore in the present,
A staff handed everyone an itinerary for the day:
“9-10am: group therapy
10:11am: relaxation group
11:12noon: recreational activities
12-12:30pm: Lunch
12:30-2pm: staff transition ALL PATIENTS MUST STAY IN THEIR ROOMS…”
To this day I’m against group therapy cus I prefer one-to-one,
The other patients don’t need to know my business,
For what? So they can use it against me somehow?
The two hour window from noon to two was the only thing I looked forward to now,
Relaxation group introduced guided meditation,
But I wasn’t ready for that quite yet,
My thoughts were racing and I was worrying about where I was going to live,
Perhaps it would be easier to go in and out of psych wards for the remainder of my life,
I eventually met my assigned therapist and I told her everything,
I didn’t care about being vulnerable anymore,
She seemed like a reliable confidant,
But I was wrong,
Eventually during the second week I was there she gave up on me,
She said I frustrated her and therapy would never work for me,
Depression turned to anger,
Why the fuck did you waste my time then?!
I yelled at the top of my lungs,
After that I felt something inside me die forever,
All my sadness morphed into rage,
I began to flip out and get restrained everyday until one day I got visitors,
My current therapist I still have as I’m typing this post and the head of a transitional home met with me,
I agreed to become a part of DMHAS and to live at the transition home for I didn’t have any other choice,
A pleasant note from a roommate I met there is still in my possession:
“I’m so glad we’re friends. Everyone here is on their own journey. I find it easier to make friends in the system. Do you agree?”
Yes. I definitely agree.

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Feel free to like or comment on this post. I will always reply back to comments! And please check out my eBook: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B012BSPFCQ/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_awdm_EgmSvb1FDR2EB Thanks for reading ๐Ÿ™‚

Help is not the same without family

Hola! What adventures will you embark on today? Anyway, lately I have been getting the feeling that nobody genuinely cares about me. Boo hoo! Lol But in all seriousness,  I have been in the system since I was 14 years old. No, I’ve never been arrested. 14 was the year I first tried to commit suicide. Since then til last year, I was in psych wards, state hospitals, alternative schools, group homes, residential, and transitional homes. I had my fair share of therapy and psych medicine. Although I have come a long way in my road to recovery, this gnawing feeling of inhospitable loneliness clings onto me everyday. I never had a stable home or anyone I really considered family. I had a lot of services throughout the years though. Don’t get me wrong! I’m very grateful for my therapist and additional services I receive from DMHAS but I doubt it’s the same as having a family. I watch a lot of tv and I see these shows like Modern Family or The Middle. Family seems like a burden and they may be annoying as all hell but at the end of the day, they have each other’s backs. Besides one day of the week, my therapist is off the clock. I had the same therapist for years but I doubt she considers me family. She has a family and life of her own and I’m simply just a client. I accept that for what it is. What does it feel like to be a part of a family?  The idea of family repulses me to no end yet maybe that’s because I find it to be co-dependent and weak. At the end of the day, I know if I fail to pay my bills, I will homeless again. If I get arrested, no one will bother to bail me out. If I run out of food, no one will give me any. That’s life. At least that’s my life. Family would sure help but I’m so independent and a lone wolf simply doesn’t have the luxury of dependency. Sure my therapist or my job coach could help me if I needed a bus pass or a laundry card but that’s not like family. There’s a procedure and paperwork that has to be done in order to keep me serviced. It’s not out of the kindness of their hearts. They get paid to help me. I’m grateful but I have yet to know what’s it’s like to be cared for. It seems the only way to have a family is to marry into one. I would have to allow myself to fall in love and share my life with someone else. That’s frightening. My brother has no sense of family either. He married into a family but by observation, he will never officially be an addition to his wife’s family entirely. They don’t go out of their way for him. They do a halfass job just to make him think he’s any importance to their family. It’s sad but my brother would rather tolerate that than face the fact that I am the only family he has left. That he is just as alone as I am. I, myself, can’t live in denial like he can. But to each his own, I guess. In retrospect, maybe marrying into a family isn’t a secure option either. I’m contempt with being alone. I have my services, my confidant, very few friends, and my coping skills. I must continue to live regardless of the cards I was dealt. Have a wonderful day, my fallen angels! Over and out.

Feel free to like or comment on this post. I will always reply back to comments! ๐Ÿ™‚

Level 21: My life as an RPG

On April 29th, I leveled up to 21! My attack stats are above average at 91. Accumulated by aptitudes in Jiu Jitsu, Boxing, and Street Fighting. My defense stats are very high up at around 127. The sum of all the walls I built up around my mind, awareness of my environment at all times, passwords guarding my digital necessities, and locking all doors and windows when I’m at my base. My intelligence was enhanced due to an autism capsule I acquired at birth and vast amounts of books I absorbed for mere pleasure. Now it’s enforced by my college career. It even surpasses my defensive capabilities by 30 points which ultimately adds up to 157. What’s an RPG without magic? My magic criteria is a combination of spirituality and psychological maturity. So my magic is more of a healer’s kind than a dark mage, by just a bit. Healing spells include  caring about others, being a good friend, and going out of my way for my loved ones when they are in need. My offensive hexes involve hacking, blackmail, finding dirt about my enemies, and pushing people on the brink of suicide so that I don’t get my hands dirty. An overall 122. My stamina is fairly good but I need further improvement. I have been working out four time a week, two hours per work out but lately I have been slacking a bit. Stamina went down from 97 to 85. My speed has increased but not by much but any increase is a good thing. I can run faster than any other point in my life (so far) and my ability to draw conclusions have been compromised by Narcissism and bias. Makes up a total of 110. My weapon of choice has to be the Technological Sword, able to slice through even the slightest virtual deceit. My favorite helm must be the Wool Hat of Oblivion, able to scare off unwanted attention. Paired up with the Dark Hoodie amulet makes me untouchable. My armor is the Robes of Tranquility, able to fortify me from perverted stares. My favored accessory is the Obsidian Android 4G which can call on my allies for support in this war called Life. My support system include my soldier brother who specializes in weaponry, the kindgom of DMHAS, and the fortress founded by the Trevor Project. I am a brave warrior of God but my villains tend to push me astray from the Oriented. My villains are my ex fiance, his henchmen, the devil, anklebiters (crafted by the devil to inflict suicidal ideation), and my biological family (apart from my brother). The Oriented is an Elysium where brave warriors fighting for The Power of Trinity go when they have done their part in trying to save the world. As of now, a new battle ensues after I vanquished my ex for there are always opportunities for my psyche to subconsciously resurrect his spirit. One day at a time. Along with my arsenal, my allies, and my unquenchable thirst for experience, I will someday become a benevolent yet powerful warlock who will someday earn my place in The Oriented. I hope you enjoyed this post and feel free to like and comment on it as well as create your own RPG: Life simulation. Have a wonderful day, my fallen angels! Over and out.