the church of psychiatry
virtually all of the puppet shows in my head are screaming, "just get help." my some want me to run to the loviofng arms of jesus, among many other theological icons. some want me to groom the next generation of child prostitutes. some want me to take up revolutionary arms and do what needs to be done. some want me to use my supercapes of invisibilty to maintain the freedom of our nation. yeah, yeah, the freedom to obey the laws you guys keep popping out like a big pharma production line.
way back when i was still attractive to pedophiles, i chose to kneel at the church of psychiatry. until covid, i was a devoted disciple. balancing the infected wounds of traumatized children with the fears of germaphobic geezers was? ? ? cruel and unusual punishment? by whatever metaphor, we survived another one. by the time the yaddahs of the covidic blahs passed far enough to "just get help," the church of psychiatry looked ? ? ? quite different to my psychotic eye. like every pandemic i've ever tracked, the end isnae ever as clear as military jets returning to home base. my old reliables are handling the virtuals at the speed of volunteer programmers taking time away from the high salary opportunities to keep all the new, more profitable virtuals on-line. the real time support groups i have found are populated by disciples who look like they want to take their just-in-case masks out of their pockets. the veteran's administration is as vague as any of the big wigs about whether or not they have reduced their services to masked or virtual. i have gotten to where if i don't see the real time options on the service/event ads, i assume they are virtual. virtual is the new reality. surf on, good buddy, surf on. no shortage of sites to surf on to. no shortage of places to scream my blues into the virtual clouds. no shortage of tech gurus to help me remember my membership sign in protocols. well. . . my smart phone wielding superiors tell me there appears to be a shortage of grunts to handle those pesky details in the virtual wars.
i agree with those puppets in my head screaming, "just get help." sigh. . . just getting help feels even less justy than it was in the throw-away kid camps at the turn of the 70's.
sigh. . . just mask it all! ! !
Replies
ground yourself arfie - go for a walk or talk to your husband.
writing can sometimes be too linear.. Get some here and now
grounding. peace!
alas, the beaten crazy bitch wolf is barking at the love of her life today. not a new evolution in the 44 years since he became more than the entitled student next door. works in progress. . . my here and now is heavily populated by the newest chapter of the border crisis. grounding in the here and now is sketchier than usual.
among my recent attempts at grounding has been the animated movie, "lilo and stich." might be the most intelligent convo i've had on these issues since social services starting saluting the covidic flags.
my immune system is feeling the effects of my current psychosis, so i don't feel safe to join them, but the pesky little details are out enjoying the snow. hubs didn't have enough gators to cover their perky little noses, but they enjoyed my lesson on "gypsy gators." that would be "scarves" in the fashion world. in their current arctic explorations, they decided to dump the gators. no, markus, i am not metaphoring around. children find literals in the damndest places.
I'm holding you in the light of love and care. I am thinking about you. The border crisis has upset me for about 3 years now and many Americans don't care so I hardly talk about it but I do understand how you can also be upset. I wrote about it before and I'll just leave it be for today. Snowy, icy and too cold here in my part of the world.
Gentle hug Arf.... You remain in my prayers.... xo
thank you, hasty. at the risk of sounding ingrateful, my light phobia often puts spots in front of my eyes when people comfort me with light metaphors. i'm reaching for the spirit of the metaphor and i thank you for your good intentions. my groans of the border yaddahs are picking up dangerous sarcasm en ambos lados del rio. yo. . . pocket brain disciples. . . this humanitarian crisis has been going on for longer than cell phones have been a fashion rage.
on my farm, the children are a delight to watch in their amazement over this weather weird. i am grateful that this snow is predicted to melt away on wednesday. the munchkins are watching their apps to see whether they'll get a snow day tomorrow.
thank you, suncloud. prayers desperately needed.
healing hopes for all.
no exceptions.
of all the names and nicknames i have tried for that unprovable companion who guided me through the theological confusions of my life in the kiddie whorehouses, "invisible friend" is my personal fave. it is the nickname which seemed to work best in my therapy sessions. the kiddie whorehouse clients were confusingly diverse in their names and nicknames, but "invisible friend" gave me images of jimmy stewart and his invisible rabbit friend, harvey.. i wanted a harvey of my own. my invisible friend is okay with my acronym for the english name for him. when i call him a gnarly old dickhead, he playfully dons a warrior costume from the human warrior closet and sings like pat benetar. "hit me with your best shot, fire awayayayayay!" she/he/it gets a bit morphy when call him by the invisible friend acronym. "well. . . i know i told you to get the if out of it, but i doesn't wanna leave your side. i wanna be more than an engineering design."
sigh. . .
just how crazy is this mayor of crazy town. for what it's worth, crazy town has more than one mayor.
there is growing unity in the "just get help" choir. i agree, but the justies of that just haven't gotten any clearer with the covidic evolutions. the insurance end of those justies doesn't seem to have changed much beyond the passwords, etc., of the virtual revolution. just log in to redeem my membership rewards. don't mind the popups, etc. they are only part of the newest improvements.
sigh. . .
the dearly beloved husband who is leading the justy choir in his perfect virtuosity just went to get his first cup of coffee. time to get my mask on. what was that freaking password again? what are the rewards awaiting me on the other side of the log-in protocols? his pop-up ads arenae feeling like much of a reward these days.
grab my titty and dive into my hole of sweetness, my man of all men.
the old laptop upon which i currently top is showing the wear and tear of life with children and my own hypergraphia. i have a quaint, old world habit of replacing things before their final crash constitutes an emergency. tech toys still havenae graduated to my basic essentials list, but they havenae quite fallen off the civil essentials list. perhaps it is time to let them fall.
i bought the replacement laptop yesterday and discovered, to no surprise on my end, that i donae get to look deeply at what i paid for until i have established my undesired membership in their system. the robocops have been busy improving their pressurized membership drives. they have plugged all of the holes by which i have escaped their august membership since windows 95 ushered in the remote monitoring of folks like me who prefer to work privately in odd locations. in the decades since, i have grown very weary of those cloudy yaddah blahs the sooner i let the money grubbers win, the sooner they will forget that i snuck off to real time without proper log-off.
"media fasting" was one of my breakthrough therapies from the real time church of psychiatry of the 70's. back then, media fasting didnae require any more than leaving the political mags and papers where i found them. sing along with leroy van dyke. "just walk on by, walk on by." here in 2024, the church of psychiatry has gone virtual and i still hear "media fasting" discussed on occasion, but the virtual memberships are as prevalent as on any of the subnets of the WWW., the pop-up ads and membership opportunities pop up on the church altars as any other website.
i've packed up my newest membership opportunities over the course of typing this entry. i will return them to the supercenter where i bought them. thanks, but no thanks. good luck with your membership drives.
do i feel better now?
testing, 1, 2, 3. . .
so far, so good.
yea, i feel better about the tech knots in my brain, but the real time elements seem to be getting meaner.
the visa bride drama continues and finding stability within the yaddahs of those blahs continues to be a challenge. hubby's nursing skills reached 9-1-1 levels yesterday. i neither know, nor care, whether he carried through on his threat to push the icons on the well-synchronized pocket brain he was waving dramatically in the escalation. the urban sprawl in our current location is still rather far from adequate help centers. the virtual help centers donae have the panache equal to the drive wifey to help portion of his helpful hubby routine. again i am plagued by flashbacks to his daddy chasing his mama around various locales trying to talk her out of her huntington's disease symptoms. "now, rosie, don't be that way." they are nearly as intense as the flashbacks to the joys of his insistent request for directions on how to help with the anaphylactic shock which resulted from the last bee mobbing. trying to answer through my swollen throat was almost as fun as watching rosie trying to not be that way. it's as easy as a geriatric fall to imagine the visa bride taking the place of daddy's head nurse in the next generation of the conspiracy to get rosie to not be that way.
i am terrified of finding myself trapped in such loving care. which v-doc should i synchronize with to sort these psycho snot knots? which app will fix that? frankie's young at heart app isnae doing well at convincing my 70 year young heart that it is strong enough to handle the load.
as i continue contemplating the virtuals from the real time shifts in the church of just get help, i confess i have been doing more contemplating than web surfing. the quest to sort the virtuals from the reals is feeling as pointless as sorting an android from an i-phone from all the other brand names dripping from The Cloud. it is as interestingly productive as sorting Maybelline from Revlon or Kleenex from Puffs. not even my old reliable, the Veteran's Administration is distinguishing its virtuals from its reals any more. it's close enough for government work and virtual decks don't need swabbing with sinus stripping antiseptics. apps are all you need for virtual deck swabbing. so far, science has no evidence that the www apps are carriers of pathogens.
methinks my faith in psychiatry has gone old world virtual. the almost faith is hanging on by a TW thread.
is it good news that i have regressed to old world snail mail to take the place of my text support? my pocket brain has selected a particular brand of pocket brain to quarrel with in whatever cloudy glitch has taken over my phone in recent weeks. it turns out the heart of my therapy support network is using the brand my brand is blocking. who knew? the things we forget to ask bite our virtual asses again. rather than chasing down the magic update which will settle the trademark dispute, i have been going retro and scribbling on the old world mediums of pen and paper. i have been . . .
gamer crisis break. big bro (age 10) is sleeping gamer hours. he fell into bed immediately after getting home from school yesterday. the game rooms werenae company enough when he awoke and. . .so much like his mama. . . the diffs between his manly game rooms and his mama's facebook game rooms are beyond comparison. anyhoo. . .
the snail mail text exchanges seem to give extra meditation value. maybe. . . i'm sure the virtual med experts have a different summary.
i made it through most of my morning inventory without major nudgery this morning. i had to nudge particularly hard on the rock through the VR therapy support portion of the rituals. my faith in the VR church of psychiatry is even weaker than my faith in the VR masses of my chosen catholic RCIA.
the damaged case of my laptop isn't getting any stronger, neither. i still have the new surf toy, but am still reluctant to jump the mandatory membership hoops i need to evaluate the product. i know, i know. . . a child can do it. the orphans brought home their district issued chromebooks to prove it.
my brain is able, but my spirit is weak.