My Mental History.

Another thing too, about how our culture is being dumbed down. (And BTW, I've always wondered. "Dumbed down"? Is there a better way of putting that? I've been searching vain for years for one. Make-sound-less-intelligent is what I'd say. But it's too long.) Anyways, people like to say Sic Semper Tyrannis means "thus always to tyrants". No, it means thus ever to tyrants. Am I the only person who thinks thus "always" sounds incredibly stupid? No, I know what ever means. I got the meaning right away. Thank you.

And when Patrick Stewart played Scrooge in "A Christmas Carol", 1999 on TNT Network, he said to Cratchit, another word out of you, and you'll spend Christmas losing your occupation. Occupation? I've seen several movie versions of the story. And it's always "situation". Yes, I know what situation means. It means his job. What else could it mean? Plus it's in all the previous versions. So we already know. Geez.

 

A lady who used to helped me out, once told me that when you get angry at someone driving, you can give them the finger, but keep it hidden. That actually reminded me of an incident that happened with Walter Mondale.

They say once when VP Walter Mondale was in a restaurant it looked like he was giving the camera the finger. He was just scratching his forehead. But that's what it looked like.

 

I told that psychologist I saw in 2022 that black men are like nepenthe to me. I also shared an essay I made in the Summer of 2000, actually June 5, 2000 (I save every date you know), where I said looking at pictures of black men are like a wonderful narcotic to me.

Actually the word nepenthe has an interesting story. Websters says it was a drug supposed by the ancient Greeks to cause forgetfulness of sorrow. I first heard it in HS when I read the poem "The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe. I found the concept interesting. Notice it just causes forgetfulness. The cause of the sorrow might still be there.

Also interesting, some people think nepenthe was something really powerful and addictive like Opium. But some say it might have just been the harmless plant Borage. I read more recently about 20 years ago, some people think it might have been Wormwood. Wormwood is used in making the liqueur Absinthe.

 

I sometimes have this problem. I laugh when I don't intend to. Rarely have I done it an inappropriate time or has it been a problem.

But you know, Louise Woodward, an au pair who was convicted of involuntary manslaughter in Newton, Massachusetts, was on the witness stand. And she kept laughing at the wrong time. That's never happened to me, as I said. But when I saw her do that, I thought of that.

The neuropsychologist I saw from Spring of 1986 said there was a name for that. My psychiatrist right after that in the Summer of 1986 said he didn't know the name to that condition.

(BTW, not that it matters. But Americans were really outraged by that verdict. Everyone in her hometown in England said it was a miscarriage of justice that she was even charged. And then when she got that sweetheart deal, they were all seen back home popping Champagne bottles. It's not important now, as I said.)

 

I also like sharing my interests with people. In music, etc. But you know, I might not be alone. During the 1992 Summer Olympics in Barcelona, Spain Paula Abdul had a commercial where she danced thru computer editing with all the greatest dancers of all time. Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly, etc. in a Pepsi commercial. And it was something that young people like me thought they could share with an older generation.

I remember, I think my mother said. You know, she really is a good dancer.

 

Also we started seeing a probate lawyer in 1997, KS. He told us he was a "tax attorney", whatever that means. And he said, to avoid paying too much in taxes, he was setting up a "do-unto-others" trust for me. Everything would be in my cousins name. To avoid taxes, as I said. That was a sham. Everything is already in my cousins name. Because he is my legal guardian. Except, what? I know the money in my wallet (they told me I would always technically be drawing from my cousin's bank account, though my name was on it). The clothes on my back. Perhaps the appliances in my house? The house obviously doesn't belong to me and never did (they told me after my father died it did).

KS seemed like a nice guy. But the trust. It was a sham. That's all it ever was. I still need a trust to live on. But it was to show me nothing was technically in my name, and that I had no control over anything. Which was essentially true.

 

Comedian Howie Mandel once said something interesting. Someone told him he was too obsessive when it came to germs. He said yes. And I'll never change. I feel the same way. I'm probably not too obsessive when it comes to germs. Just a little. But that is why I never get colds.

But I was talking with my doctors recently. I have one thing, I have to wash my hands when I pick something off the floor. My mother might have started that when I was very young. I don't think that is necessary. Plus I have the beginnings of mobility issues. So I probably shouldn't get in the habit of leaving things on the floor like that, like I do. Actually, I think what the experts say is that you should wash your hands after touching something on the floor if you are about to prepare food.

 

I also am good with language. I don't think I could pick up a foreign language, especially now that I am older. But I can pick up on things like pronunciation quickly. And it is easy for me to remember foreign words when I am exposed to them. Especially like in songs. My mother used to tell people that. When I was still very young, we had the LP to the movie "The Singing Nun", 1966, with Debbie Reynolds. In it, they had the Kyrie from the Missa Luba, sung by Les Troubadours Du Roi Baudouin. There are native chants in that song in Swahili. I picked up all of the words the first time I heard it. And as I like to tell people, more recently as an adult I taught myself to sing the Ave Maria, Pater Noster, Sanctus and Agnus Dei, all in Latin.

They say people with Williams Syndrome can do that, pick up songs in other languages easily. I don't think I have Williams Syndrome though.

 

There was another thing. When I was a child, at one point, I was trying to convert everyone. Now as a Catholic, we are supposed to encourage people to join the one true faith. Although Pope Francis recently said proselytizing is something different.

I don't think that has anything to do with my illness. And eventually my mother politely asked me to stop. But as I said, I thought that is what we Catholics were supposed to do.

 

"Oh! Thanks, Pinky!
You've always been there for me."

-D'Oh-in' in the Wind,
Season 10, Episode 6,
Original air date: November 15, 1998.


I shared the above quote with my 2022 therapist. I think it illustrates a good point. If a person has a mental illness, and the delusion, hallucination, whatever, helps them out, even saves them in the end. Who are we to judge?

As I've said, that seems to have happened to me in my life with my mental illness. I've never had hallucination, as I told that 2022 doctor, and others. I may have had an idea of reference once or twice (they are different from true hallucinations). But ideas of references, irrational thinking, sometimes just my misinterpretation of that facts, probably brought on by people using my irrational tendencies against me (like my doctors, and possibly the police). They have ensured my safety and well-being on more than one occasion. As you can see if you have been following my story, they have even literally saved my life on more than one occasion.

My interest in coincidences, I don't know. Some people like Carl Jung just have a tendency to see patterns in things. Maybe Jung had Schizotypal Personality Disorder. But I am following some of them closely now. It couldn't do any harm.

Here are some clips from the above Simpsons episode. The first is the full scene from that episode. The second is the the part of the scene I am talking about. Barney Gumble drinks the smoothie with the Peyote in it. And when he sees the three-eyed monster, he drinks some more Duff beer. And his alcohol-induced hallucination, Pinky the elephant, saves him once again:




Oh! Thanks, Pinky! You've always been there for me.

 

Also just to make clear if I haven't. From now on, I will make sure that argument I have a right to more control over my life. And there is no need for the secrecy or for me to have a legal guardian. That people were trying to take my car away. I would say I noticed something odd in my neighborhood first in 2005. My psychiatrist started talking about the subject then. And after that, my other doctors. And then later, my dental hygienist. Okay, let's stop the story there. Or maybe it began in 2001 with the coffee-pouring incident, I don't know. But definitely by 2005. I attempted suicide in 2004. So that is why 2005 seems like it might be significant, that timeline.

I have had a permanent license since 1989. I got my learner's permit in February of 1988. There is nothing that changed with my driving ability in 2005. Or 2001 or whatever. You get the picture. Nothing with record either. And as I said, they could never tell me why. They still can't. And last I heard, they are still planning on doing that.

Even if the matter has been dropped for once and for all. People have way too much power over me. That they can do something like that. And they don't care. Anyone who would want me to not have a car in the city I live in must just not care. There I said it.

So I don't care if that matter is dropped. That will always be my argument, that that nonsense ever even started.

 

Also. As I said, my HS placement test had significant figures on it. I was never taught that. (And it's strange. I looked it up recently. HS placement tests were only Catholic schools. Do they still use them even?) I forgot some about significant figures. But I thought I would explain what I remember. And I'll use a very simple example. Those old wooden grade school rulers.

You remember those. They measured down to an ⅛th of an inch. So that would be .125, right? Or three significant figures. Everything in your results, everything in your measurements would be three significant figures. Our HS physics and chemistry teacher said it doesn't matter how obvious a number may seem to you in value. .333333333333333333333333 is obviously ⅓. Not so, he said. You are only working with three significant figures. So are far as you know, it is just .333. Nothing more.

Obviously Harvard and MIT scientists don't work with those old grade school rulers. But that is what they'd do if they did.

There are other rules with significant figures. Like any zero between two significant digits is significant. But that is all I remember.

 

I was telling my doctor yesterday. I am beginning to wonder if people didn't know right from the start that I had or probably had Cerebral Palsy. I had my first EEG in the Summer of 1986 at a local hospital. And they told me that, and a CAT scan, showed nothing out of the ordinary. The neurologist in 1986 said the EEG just showed I have a slight seizure tendency. But my neurologist now says he sees no sign of that in my EEG's. Also after my father died my urologist told me that if I don't urinate by the end of the day, go to the ER. That brings up a good point. I have had frequent urination since age 9. I told my pediatrician that when I was 13. What did frequent urination show? Did that, along with the unusual way I have walked since I could walk, show people something they should have seen? And now my misdiagnosis is being used against me? I have a right to the full-status and of someone with CP and to get all the disability benefits I deserve. CP doesn't get worse as you age. But it does complicate the process of aging. Plus I am very weak physically. I have been all my life. I would be at the mercy of the weakest person even in a group home. That boy in my 8th grade could have done some serious damage to me. And my CP affects my mouth, throat and lungs. What would happen if I was ever in a coma? I may never wake up.

And also, the last thing anyone told me is that people are still thinking about taking away my car. I have no reason to believe that subject has been dropped. Even after over 20 years. As I tell people, even if that never came up again, it shows all that is wrong in this situation. People have too much control over me that they have the power to do that. And it shows how little people in my life care about me. Everyone knows now how dangerous it would be to live where I do without a car. My friend across the street has told me more than once he agrees with me on that. Yet people are still talking about that? And they still can't even tell me why? And did the police start all that? In 2001 because I poured coffee into my mug? I am beginning to think that the police really don't care about me. Sorry to be blunt but it's true. I had a large gun poked in my back in the Summer of 1991. And the policeman behind the desk was more concerned about the morality of going to an adult bookstore than that. He said that repeated while he took the report, I still remember.

Anyway, as I tell my doctor, the police would understand some serious penalty for their action. Sorry to be blunt. But if they are still talking about the car and if they are the ones managing my case in any way. They need to know that is the consequences for indifference to a handicapped person like me. Especially if they are still doing that, and no one can stop them. I have never supported that before, a policeman facing some penalty. But in this case maybe I have to. What do you think?

 

There was another bizarre incident with the police. Again in that other city. I stopped going to the college I had been going to since 1988. In 1993 I took my last computer programming class there. I couldn't really handle it. I passed all my other computer classes before that though. So rather than fail, I just dropped out of that school. But I still would go to college mall there, to get a snack to eat. One time I was at the mall just getting a snack. And I told the lady behind the counter matter-of-factly that I was no longer a student there, but I still went there to eat. That's okay, I asked her, isn't it? She said, well wait here, I better call security. I was a little confused. But she seemed to be being nice about it all, believe it or not. Then the security arrived. Again, they seemed to be acting just business-like. But why do you insist on still coming here if you are no longer a student, they asked. Well, I just like the food they have here at this restaurant, I told them, taking their questions literally. And then again they told me. Give us your name and address and if there is any trouble at this school, any trouble at all, we'll come looking for you.

As I said, I take the police and security guards literally when they say things like that. I have poor social skills. Oddly after I thought about that for a while, it dawned on me they were being obnoxious. As I said, when people are polite, it misleads me. I trust them at that point. Maybe it's my Schizotypal Personality Disorder. Or maybe it is because I was told from a young age I can always trust the police. I don't know. But that above incident happened around 1995, I think.

 

As I tell people, on what's funny. Sharing jokes is only wrong if you hurt someone's feelings. As to what jokes are appropriate, I don't know. Jokes are always inappropriate. They often involve things like sex and excretion. The world's oldest joke is from 1900 BC Sumeria. It was found ruins they were excavating, carve on an old wall. And it goes:

“Something which has never occurred since time immemorial; a young woman did not fart in her husband’s lap.”

I know in the 1980's I remember, Vlad the Impaler jokes were popular. And if someone found them inappropriate, the response usually was "Too soon?" Because that was the point of those kinds of jokes. They happened so long ago. They don't directly affect anyone who is alive anymore.

As I said, in the 1980's they said that enjoying inappropriate jokes may not mean what you think. Humor just helps you distance yourself from your problems. So, they said, if you're a medical examiner, enjoying necrophilia jokes might just help you deal with your job. Plus as I recently said on a Facebook page I'm on. A serial killer finding necrophilia jokes funny would be very different from, say, a mortician finding them funny. NBC's St. Elsewhere had this last one as a theme in their episode "The Naked and the Dead", aired October 30, 1985.

 

Like I said, sometimes people claim to have heard me say things I didn't. I was thinking about that this morning. And I don't know if that can ever have been proven to have actually have happened. That incident with the doctor in Birmingham, MI. Where he reacted with shock to something I never said. That was the only example of that I can't explain. I mean, he was very nice guy. Why would lie? I still don't know what happened that time in his office though. But I was thinking this morning, all the other times, people could have been lying. Could have been, I said. Because there was not one time other than that incident in Birmingham that couldn't be explained that way. I know in HS, there was an incident in the hallway where a couple of boys claimed I said something I didn't. But they were the only ones who claimed to have witnessed that. And in the next class session one of the boys was telling what happened to his girlfriend. "Did he say that? Did he really say that?" she said. But he was telling her right in front of me. He couldn't have been doing it in a more obvious way. Not a couple of feet away this time. Right in front of my face. Like I was telling my doctor this morning. When people do that, it usually indicates deception. Just like when my best friend and AD seemed always be talking about me in front of me and like three feet away. Just saying. I don't know, as I said. They did accuse me of saying something in HS. Something from a horror film. But my mother told me right away, no. No one ever heard you say that. My therapist at the time said no. No one heard you say that and your mouth isn't saying things behind your back. My therapist told me in early 2011, right after my father died. No, no. No one ever heard you say that.

Also, a couple of years ago, people in my life, including one doctor, were perhaps pretending like I was saying something I wasn't. Though don't know. I never heard my mouth say something I didn't want it to. So I don't know. As I said, I have no way of knowing it ever happened, even in Birmingham. But the way my doctor and rest were doing that. They were doing a very bad acting job. Almost like they were trying to make me think that was happening, even though it wasn't. I'm serious. A lot people in my life were in on that. If you asked them about it they might tell you. Because they know what I am talking about.

 

There also is a difference in the law. Between what is says, and how it's actually enforced. Like I said, in 2001, local police officers gave me two points on driver's license for pouring coffee in my mug. In Michigan, if I got four more points, I'd lose my license for good. But then can do that, the police, if they like. Vigorously enforce the law for just one person. Ironically around that time, my father and I were seeing the same optometrist. And I asked him, so it's your job to take away people's driver's licenses when they become unfit to drive. He told me, that's not my job. I could do that. But it's up to them. If they don't know they shouldn't be driving, I'm not going to get involved. (Because I don't know if you know. The police were telling me then it was their job to take cars away from people they had suspicions about. Just suspicions. With their driving ability, in other words.)

BTW, some people have told me to check my disability status. I just created an account at login.gov. But I am having a little trouble. They keep asking me for my code. They texted me a login code, and I gave them that. But they claim that's not the code. I don't think I was given any other code.

 

As I was telling someone recently. When you're legally an indigent and someone violates your rights, criminal action is your only alternative. You certainly couldn't afford to hire a lawyer and sue anyone. Of course the prosecutor makes the final decision what to do. I am just speaking of those cases in general of course.

 

As I said, I took Elavil when I went inpatient in a local hospital July 17, 1989 after a suicide attempt July 16th. And it raised my mood like the second or third night I took it. I thought I wasn't supposed to be happy. The far-right "conspiracy" wouldn't allow it. They wanted me to give up religion too so I'd go to hell, but I won't go into that. But I felt such inner joyousness. And no one seemed to notice. I became much freer just a week earlier. I was at a place where taking me out would do that for me, cure me of my problem being in public. And mother, desperate to help (I forget the details now), quickly took me to a lot of nice places all over Michigan. Then I did some research. People with Schizophrenia should never take Elavil. It could increase their psychosis, I read in one place. Everyone seemed to hint I may be right. But probably wasn't. Except my pharmacist. I always thought I could trust him then, for some reason. But to make me restless, i.e., get horrible akathisia. Because remember, the conspiracy wanted that. I hurt their feelings talking to the "bugs" in my house, just before July 6, 1988. I didn't know when this was. But it always seemed like late May, early June. It was very hot that year. And I had the fan in the door at the top of the landing stairs from my basement room, I always remembered. So whenever it got that hot. Probably May, I later recalled.

But I was sure that they wanted to experience horrible akathisia. It was my punishment for being so liberal, so tolerant. That makes very conservative people angry, you know. So I thought they'd slip it in my food. How else? So I always insisted my family and I ate a buffets. Because everyone there ate from the same food tray. And Wendy's. They had their SuperBar back then. Anyone else remember. Because every time we went out for just a quick snack, it was a fast food place. And I insisted on Wendy's. In fact I always demanded it. Then I thought, I was going back to church. Maybe they would slip it in the eucharist host. Because by then I thought all clergy in my life were in on it. Not because they wanted to be. They actually kind of sided with me. But they had no choice. So I started going up to receive communion. I swear I never told anyone. But the lady giving out the hosts seemed to notice. At least once when I went up to her, she saw me and then quickly randomized the hosts with her hand in that little brass dish. Just to show me everything was on the up and up. I still didn't trust her. So I came up with this, I thought, ingenious plan, to refuse the hosts randomly. I would choose three random numbers. They had to be my numbers. I couldn't get random numbers off my watch. Because they controlled my watch by then. I wasn't being paranoid. Actually, odd numbers, that meant something only to me, kept coming up when I looked at my watch starting by 1989. I'm serious, they did. It was probably just coincidence. Then I'd add the three numbers together. And add those again, etc. Until I was left with one number. If it was odd or even, that was what decided I avoided the host. That only happened once though, oddly. And I was going to church every Sunday. I stopped going to church in the early 90s, BTW. Then it all came to a head. I told my family no, no, we must never go to a restaurant that isn't a buffet. One time my family said, well, we're all hungry and there's no other place to go to. We have to go to this diner style restaurant. I dreaded even being there. I think I had the egg dish. And everyone was seated at the table, ready to eat. Where's James' dinner? They asked. A lady came from the back holding my dish, wearing latex examining gloves. Obviously just to clean in the kitchen. But I was still suspicious. But I ate my dinner and nothing happened. And I never had that problem again. As I said, the early 90s ushered in an era of peace and stability in my life. My mother probably knew all this. But she wasn't convinced. One night, during the great black out of the Summer of 1991 in Detroit, she told me, sitting in the kitchen, after I tried to make some cup-of-soup, using several candles in the stove. I want you either out of house, or perhaps on some psychiatric medication, she told me. Everyone in my family was still very angry over my suicide attempt in the Summer of 1989. Especially my mother's brother, for some reason. It wasn't my fault, it was my doctor's. But I never told them.

Also, on the subject of a slight lack of emotion. I've always had that. As I said, the Elavil in 1989 made me filled with joy. About 20 years ago, I asked on the internet for those who took Elavil, doesn't it fill you with joy? One lady said, hardly. It was like someone threw a wet blanket over everything with me. I wasn't even sure what she meant. I thought it made everyone joyful. That's why they called it Elavil, I thought. But you know, Mr. Spock on Star Trek has an interesting take on rationality and lack of overwhelming emotion:

"Where there is no emotion there is no motive for violence."

Dagger Of The Mind,
Stardate: 2715.1,
Original Airdate: 3 Nov, 1966.

Also, I am reminded the song that came out in 2003 "Bring Me To Life" by Evanescence. I now realize I don't have no emotion. Or even low emotion. I don't know how others feel emotion. But like I was telling my doctors. I do feel a lot of emotion. If it's lower than average, I don't know. I'm sure we all feel emotion differently. But I am affected by emotion more and feel it more. I am affected by everything more. Like I used to tell people, I literally would enjoy spending a whole day just watching the grass grow. So who knows. Maybe we just all have our own unique way of experiencing reality. But like the Magistrate told Captain Christopher Pike in "The Cage", Star Trek TOS, 1965:

"She has an illusion and you have reality. May you find your way as pleasant."

Actually though, when I first heard the song "Bring Me To Life" I didn't think it was directed at me. I thought maybe it was part of some worldwide conspiracy to lower everyone's intelligence, maybe with Fluoride in the water, and also lower our emotions. Perhaps to control us, perhaps to decrease violence among humans. (I think that is why they put female hormones in chicken. To decrease violence. But it certainly didn't work. And it led to higher incidents of male infertility. I still wonder if that is what caused all the higher than normal cases of Autism we have around world now, female hormones. Something did.) Here are some quotes from that some. Most of the song doesn't relate to me, at least not directly. Except the part that goes "I've been sleeping a thousand years, it seems, Got to open my eyes to everything." When I was still young, maybe 6 or 7, I used to tell people, when I went to sleep for the night, I probably slept about a thousand years. I had no idea how long I slept. But I never knew the amount and it seemed very long. I wonder now if that didn't have something do with my flawed perceptions with the passage of time. I have problems knowing how much time has elapsed sometimes. Here are some lyrics from that song:

"How can you see into my eyes
Like open doors?
Leading you down into my core
Where I've become so numb."

"Without a soul
My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold
Until you find it there and lead it back home."

"Wake me up
Bid my blood to run
I can't wake up
Before I come undone
Save me
Save me from the nothing I've become."

"Bring me to life
I've been living a lie (Bring me to life)
There's nothing inside (There's nothing inside)
Bring me to life."

 

Also you know. About the wild, nonsensical words that bothered me. At age c. 10/11, I was thinking of a priest at our church saying he wanted a "drinky poo". I thought it sounded like something he'd say. But I was embarrassed I thought it. And then my mother repeated it sarcastically to me, more than once IIRC. Did she hear me say that? I'm sure I never did.

Also, you know, to deal with stress, I have jokes that I only think to myself. Some of them are inappropriate I'm sure. When I'm driving and another driver does something stupid which basically happens, always. I think to myself "and people think I'm retarded". (That's a reference to the police in that other city wanting to take my license away. For pouring coffee among other things. )

Also, a joke I thought in 1988 or 9 illustrates a math skill I've always been good at. I shared it with my psychologist. I won't tell you the joke. But it basically goes. My mother used to say hunting would only be far if the deer had guns too. I think she meant to hunt those hunters. But, the joke basically goes, if there was a law that said a deer had to kill a deer, everyone. There'd be half the deer population left, because the deer doing the killing would still be alive. I thought of that in 1989 I think. And I think my psychologist is the first person I shared it with. It shows a math skill, doesn't it. I was 20 at the time I would've thought it. My irrational thoughts were at an all time high. Yet I still had this math skill.