image credit |
Looking back on a half-century + of life, I think I developed mild autism. Living in the Marshall Islands for 2 years in the early 60s must have caused some radiation exposure. My father's work was toxic: secret military crap. Even as a 3 year old kid I knew I hated myself but didn't know why. (So add a psychically/spiritually toxic upbringing, etc.) We moved around a lot over the world by the time we settled back in the States in the late 60s.
Vaccine Poisoning: When I left marriage 1 in '91 and lost all my belongings, U/Mass (Boston) made me take all my vaccines over again as my records were lost. I got blasted with so much mercury and other toxins, never mind the diseases associated, was sick for weeks, and the neurological damage can't be calculated.
The (agonizing) social anxiety has both gotten better in ways (understanding) and worse in others (developmentally). But being bipolar has always been the focus when I got medical 'help'. And this 'help' involved becoming more and more toxified with Rx medications. I didn't know what else to do. My goal was to get training and a decent job (try/fail/try again/fail/etc...). Even struggling with the compulsion to protect others from my behavior and anxiety, and myself from further pain.
Humans are social creatures. The isolation vicious cycle I've lived stuck in is self-imposed, but not voluntary. Isolation is an extremely painful compulsion, that over time basically becomes its own dis-ease.
The meds effectively made me forget. Memory: gone. It's not like I wasn't told this was the truth about meds back in the 80s by a good therapist. Rx meds are not the answer.
No comments:
Post a Comment