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[__ Prayer __] more outcast stuff...

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I had a pleasant outing with mama, doing some grocery shopping. no big deal, right? about that...

these two dudes...one was vocal about "they're gonna put him away" and "he's got -warrants- ," and..???

outcast. I reached for some milk, some lady near me said "he lives off the government."

I dunno. God -is- Good! God -is- Love! No felonies, off probation on a plea deal for over 5 years now. Parents are kind to me, good to me, and I try to be kind to them and good to them, too. :)

"gold digger" and "he'd do anything for a prescription" and "he spent xyz/grand, they were supposed to get rid of him..." and...yeah. yeah. part of the problem? someone from the mental health clinic worked at this discount place. he's no longer at the clinic, and the 2 jobs overlapped for a while. Given my experiences with people -at all levels- of the mental health industry...

it wouldn't surprise me -at all- if some of my info is...common knowledge, among the workers and others at this place. so, there's that. OK.

I just get...frustrated. Part of it, honestly, is because I'm facing -reality- without pills and labels (I -have- the labels, but I don't apply the labels to myself, if that makes sense). Just...God is Love, my parents are awesome...no one will hire me anyway...

and yet...I have a nice, modest place to live, what I need plus a tad extra and...

maybe that's it? Sometimes, it waxes intense. Last night, I showered and changed to go to my parents' place for dinner. Some lady yelled out (bunch of apt. buildings) "I'm going to -report you- ," and I just kept going to my vehicle because...report me? to whom? for...what? no drugs or drink, I'm not even renting. Its ridiculous at times.

And...the psych junk. I'm labeled as "Schizophrenic," and I also had legal junk involving former shrinks (not a good idea, but...it happened...), and...yeah. I never really, truly knew how much people -hate- "trouble makers" and such, how evil the psych industry (not just psychiatrists, btw) really is, until...

now. or recently. doesn't help that some lady was yelling junk at me at 4 AM. I was semi-awake already, but...???? I think maybe other people don't want me here? because ordinarily that behavior would not be tolerated, right? OK...

trying to -not- whine and focus on Jesus and His mercy and love, on being made "...more than a conqueror in Christ Jesus...," that good, True, valid, -Real- stuff, not...all the junk around me...

but it is frustrating. And...no one to really talk to about it. The one long term friendly acquaintance acts like its a psych issue when I say anything. So does my born again counselor. oddly enough, the prescriber seems more apt to listen, but...? over worked, I'm stable, see you in 6 months. its..."the real world," etc. my parents are -wonderful- people, plus...honestly? they dealt with -so- much, not just with me..I kind of think they adapted by becoming kind of...willfully oblivious to some things, maybe?

blah blah blah. taunts aren't fun. jail, hospitals...infinitely worse. I have been blessed with my needs + extra, so...God is Love, God is merciful. My parents come in a -very- close 2nd, btw.

I got ripped to shreds as a teenager. Driven out of the dorms at 17, all downhill from there. -true story- A lot of it is related to the mental health industry, btw. a counselor...in another area...told me: You never had a chance. You need a miracle." and now...

no local friends. thankfully, almost all of my "friends" from pre-conversion were gone already, and are long gone, now. I pray for them sometimes, I wish them well, but...especially as we all get close to (or reach!) 40, its kinda like....those were people I used to know.

ok. I dunno. maybe...a prayer that I bear up under it and do what little (relatively speaking) is expected of me, despite the ongoing nonsense? that this will draw me closer to Jesus? that...well, I don't think safety is that big an issue, but...yeah. there's that, too, I think, sometimes more than others. and freedom. :)

thanks. :)
 
its not my affliction. I'm on a lower dosage of an atypical. the dosage is still in the recommended range for more serious issues, so the only real difference is less of the unwanted tranquilizer stuff -- apathy, laziness, that kind of thing.

ugh. overall, it was an awesome day. wonderful outing, too. mama...truly loves me. I'm a part of the family for the 1st time in a long, long, long time. they never stopped supporting me, and when push -really- came to shove they got me a good lawyer...

but forgiveness? -priceless- possibly miraculous, in my case. :)

but yeah. it isn't that I'm all nerves about it or anything, its just...ugh. and it gets frustrating when people pick at me and such. but then again...

truth? I don't think I ever was a "member of the community" or anything. I was targeted for juvenile detention (not even terrible, just...happens, I think more so in the US than in many other nations), then my dad got a promotion. graduated HS 1 year early to escape, and...

there wasn't an escape then, there isn't one now. "Schizophrenia" ? blah. my actual, straight from my records to me diagnosis is apparently "Schizoaffective, Bipolar type," and I"m stable and high functioning, etc. It isn't just that the difference between the 2 is lost on the locals, so much as it is...

"Schizophrenia" is very much a -social- issue, as well as a psych one. In my case, it means the final nail in the coffin of any valid social identity I might have ever hoped to get, ever. In Christ...not so bad, actually. I think the best, best, best I could get would have been in or around poverty, forever scraping by and being pointed out as an example of "poor life choices" and/or "maybe now he's learned his lesson." blah. real world...I guess?

not to ramble (again, I know, lol) but God's ways are higher than my ways, amen. Somehow, I ended up with a "severe mental illness" label and now I'm...healthy and smart and remarkably normal (social skills, all the important stuff), and my parents and I are close, and...

I dunno. The last time I went with mama to that discount place, some employee lady was looking at me and talking to someone and saying "he had a good childhood. he messed up...," and I'm thinking...??? Outcast. Shrinks were definitely a big part of the problem, pre-Jesus...

now? -shrug- I kind of think it's better for my parents and me, this way..."severely mentally ill," done and done...but probably infuriating to a lot of people, including many "experts" (especially the ones who can't get money and/or put me away somewhere...). and so...

yeah. -rambling more or less over- I mention my "real" diagnosis (question: does it -matter- ?) because apparently it means I hear stuff when I'm really depressed or really on an upswing...far less in the more or less normal range. my big big big problem was always deep depression that then triggered voices. but even that didn't just happen. I was picked on incessantly, socially isolated and my parents were dealing with untold stress at work and in the community, and...

blah. I don't even know if I was low status so much as...non entity, barely tolerated. now, with the label of "Schizophrenia" in the community, I think it's kind of like...done. I never was really a member of the community, I never really could cope with what one expects of bona fide adults (work and pay taxes and contribute...), not that it was all my "fault," just...

the way the cookie crumbles, as they say. happens. God moves in my life, brings what looks an awful lot like deliverance...

and my little corner of the world responds with "Schizophrenia," which in -that context- is a way of saying "outsider, non-entity." done and done. it is what it is... :)
 
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