#14—Academia stimulation
Creation Date: 2022/12/13
Prep talk—
Time in group therapy sessions with a dozen other clients in the center was a lot like an academic session. The staff member running groups attempts to educate the group on psychological processes that can "help" a person with a dis-order 'cope' with what they call "an illness". Like, an illness likened to cancer; it's a battle that may never end until I depart this trauma scene for heaven.
Now, I was told that my dis-order was one of the more severe on the list of mental dis-orders, that I would likely not overcome it, and that it would be a life-long battle. That I would suffer delusions for like, forever. Again, I didn't believe them that I was suffering delusions, because I knew why I sought out someone I talked to on the phone that said they would help me down at the ER to relieve the emotional stress.
So, when the decision came from the Social Security Administration that they supported a fully disabled status, I could think of one thing to do to tantalize my informational processes and put the academic field of mental health on blast. I would get back into academia myself, in an actual academic institution. I wanted to know how I would fair amongst academic study and academic peers, young and not so young. I had not been in an academic institution going on eleven years, and I had been in and out of a psychiatric hospital going on five years.
I knew that if I was struggling in workplace environments, because all workplaces are psychotic environments and I was being forced to take anti-psychotics that shut me down after two hours of psychotic work, that being in academia again could be a struggle for me, to.
The struggle would not deter me, so I did what I had to do to get into academia again. I did some prep talk and had pep talks throughout it all and soon enough, I was back in academia.
Chosing a field of study—
After high school, I had been accepted into a university to study web development and design. I was quite the programmer from a young age. There was something of a boom in web development when the world-wide web launched at a time when I was in middle school years. I dove right in to it. There were many free web hosting companies that had launched and the communities of web developers these created were truely awesome!
Throughout high school, I was making websites after school at home, and then bewildering my classmates with the sites I was making after sharing my links with them over AOL's Instant Messenger. We would talk about it at school. I ran forums mostly. The forums had games built into the design so we played games on the forums in our social group at home. It was pretty exciting at times.
Now, I had never stopped keeping up with world-wide web developments over the years and changes that had been made were hindering my developer abilities. When it came time for me to chose an academic field of study at the college I wanted to go to after roughly five years in the mental health field, I wanted to get back into web development because smart phones had really taken off and I wanted to learn how to make websites that were 'responsive' to mobile devices, like tablets, mobile phones, and of course desktop and laptop computers.
My first semester back—
I picked out 5 classes with low course number status' so not to overload while on drugs. It was only like thirteen credits, so I felt okay about five total classes.
Coursework varied. I signed up for a math course, an economics course, a physical education course, and the others were programming courses. I did okay but there were days it was like when I was working and after doing psychotic work, I would shut down, become detached from my environment, and end the last 4 hours of the day staring at a wall. It was like my life essence was being sucked right out of me.
My programming abilities were a little rusty. One of the programming courses I was in was all about learning the basics of the JAVA programming language. One of the best languages to learn if you ask me. But, that's only if you use PC's more than you do a mobile device.
How the JAVA language works did help me with my mentality processes in the long run, to this day. Like, when I want to control what I can and let be what I can't control, there is a process to follow throughout a life experience to make the most of the moment while coming out of the experience remaining in multiplicity, rather than coming out of it feeling singularity, erring in self and group progressions.
At the end of the semester, my GPA was okay, but I lost hours to the side-effects of drugs and academia felt more like I simply did something to pass time instead of getting the most out it, like deep diving into content and having the information fill my thoughts, expanding my intellect and wisdom.
Another semester—
I enrolled for another semester and the courses became more advanced in content to be discussed. I chose a computer hardware course, an English course, the next level of the math course I chose the semester before, and I also chose an elective wherein I would learn more about the JAVA programming language so that I could create graphical user interfaces for my computer programs.
The computer hardware course was the most intense work that I had done in a couple of years and took up a lot of my days that semester because there was so much content and video to watch that would be on the final exam. My semester GPA was a bust because of the time I spent on hardware leaving me little time for the other courses.
I shouldn't make the computer hardware course out to be the distinct reason why my GPA was a bust. The side-effects of the pharmacology drugs seemed more intense this time around after being forced to take them again.
During my second consecutive semester, I had made it over to a less restrictive outpatient program, that same one affiliated with the General hospital in my town. They kept me in their program a little longer this time around.
I need a break—
Now, because my second semester was a bust, and the pharmacology drugs were so intense, I decided not to return for a third consecutive semester. The outpatient therapist was somewhat disappointed, but seemed to get that the side-effects were pretty intense. They were also debating side-effects as delusions. Isn't that kind of dangerous to assume side-effects I am feeling and describing may possibly be delusions? It really doesn't seem to matter, not one iota of thought by mental health professionals that side-effects are terrible. It's a disservice to clients everywhere.
During "my break", I studied up on the more advanced GUI JAVA programming content from my coursework book and created my first program with a GUI. It took me a few weeks, but everything was working, and I felt like I had accomplished something. It was a basic calculator, nothing to extravagant. I also pulled some information that had caught my attention from my first semester back in academia, and that was in the microeconomy course I spent time in. It had to do with product utility, whereby a consumer practices product ratings. There was also product differention and product substitutions for when my first choice isn't available. So, pulling from these particular concepts of microeconomics, I browsed local businesses and spent time shopping for a variety of products to try out and get an idea of markets, personal product utility and product substitutions like off-brands that could provide the same benefits of household name-brands. This was a great life experience and I learned not only about the products on the shelves in generalities, but about myself and my likes, to.
More academia—
A semester had passed and summer went by when I decided to get back into courses. I spent little time on web development courses the two previous semesters back in academia, and I wanted to try another field. This field had to do with law and contracts. I chose this field because I felt like I needed some background in contract law to get a feel for how I can get out of the mental health system's revolving door. Treatment plans are essentially contracts. I had to sign treatment plans everytime before I was discharged. I came to the conclusion that treatment plans were more or less a legal contract that indemnifies the mental health program, servicor, or facility from liability in terms of how I was treated as a person. Treatment plans are an agreement between clients and the mental health program wherein each party are in agreement that I accept all I was forced to do and was satisfied with treatment. I couldn't stand being treated for a diagnosis that didn't fit me and my life experience, nor being forced to consume pharmacology drugs that were in all essence keeping me from living a good life. I had been suffering for about seven years when I explored the academic field of study on contract law.
I stuck around for about three weeks before dropping out of the semester. I dropped out after essentially learning all that I needed to know about contract law in those first three weeks. What I had learned was this: contract law is binding, that terms are what the parties involved in the contract drafting make it, and that in essence, the terms of the contract are what we, the parties involved make it.
Applying contract law to treatment plans, I should be able to dictate my participation in how a treatment is going to go. This should be exactly how the mental health system's revolving door should work, at least that was how I viewed the idea of treatment.
Outpatient discharge—
As I started my semester learning law, the outpatient staff were in agreement that I had made progress in their program, enough so that I may cease theraputic sessions, and they would leave it up to me to continue taking pharmacology drugs. If I am not forced to take pharmacology drugs, whether under threat of institutionalization, or by court order, I am definitely not going to take pharmacology drugs. They are hellish medicine that I don't consider to be helpful. These pharmacology drugs and their side-effects had stolen all the joy from my life going on seven years. I stopped taking them.
Family matters—
My family was upset that I wasn't continuing the pharmacology drugs. They insisted that I continue taking them even if I was suffering death in life while on them. Like, they aren't true medicinal drugs. Medicinal drugs aren't supposed to have side-effects at all. True medicine helps and doesn't cause suffrage.
I wanted support from my family in my decision to cease medications and I didn't get that support. They were on edge for some reason that to me was unreasonable. I had just delved into academia for about two years and I felt good about learning again. My emotions were a teeny, tiny bit more under control.
Within a short period of time after ceasing the pharmacology drug use, I could critically think again, I had stamina, I was shedding the pounds as I was more in control of my eating habits, and I could feel joy again. But sometimes, it was like people wanted me to suffer, on pharmacology drugs, and for me to accept the mental dis-order diagnosis. Isn't it a strange feeling when you believe people just want to see you suffer? I am sure someone can relate.
"Not this again"—
A couple months after dropping out, and as I was no longer required to continue pharmacology drug use, nor therapy, I was confronted by family about not being on pharmacology drugs or in therapy for a mental dis-order I openly spoke out against as the right diagnosis for me, if I even had a mental dis-order. For it was a life of physical and emotional trauma that was the cruix of all of my stressful and dark times. These physical and emotional traumas remained in question to the academic mental health professionals, and this led to my family questioning it. Like, when family starts questioning traumatic events to their kin, what a life is it then?
Family ended up trying to get me back in mental health programs, so they called the police for a third time, and I would end up back in the psychiatric hospital. I couldn't believe it. Not this again.
In my next article I will write about the most recent experience that I have had inpatient. It would be my third stay, and, as I write this blog about my experiences, I have not been back in an inpatient facility since.