He is a Criminal First, Mentally Ill a Distant Second

I am a little bit in shock. The local community  newspaper decided to do a spread on "Mentally ill treatment in jails." Lo and behold, the man who sexually battered me while I was trying to sleep in my psychiatric room was being interviewed during his jail stay for a second sexually battery on a psychiatric patient. He was being pitied by the interviewer, who felt bad for him because he was in Atascadero Jail, a place for the criminally insane, and not receiving his lithium.

Let's get our facts straight, yellow journalists, he's a criminal first, a mental patient second.

Where in the DSM V manual does it say that "rape" and "sexual battery" are symptoms of bipolar disorder? I did not receive that memo. Why? Because nobody in psychiatry believes that bipolar = rapist. Unless you look in the section for "sociopaths" where lack of empathy, pleasure in others' pain, and violence are all symptoms of NOT PSYCHOSIS but of a SOCIOPATH!!! Triple exclamation point!!!

So, I had to endure reading 2 pages of embellished, pitying, second rate writing by college students and their yellow journalist professor who had all set out to make the world feel sorry for the criminals because they happened to also have bipolar disorder. This infuriates me deeply.

I did not get medication for a long period of years. I never sexually assaulted or physically harmed or threatened to hurt any human, despite my florid delusions. I coped with my fear, agitation, and anger through writing and drawing. The mental facilities turned me away, the outpatient centers said I was not sick enough, and all this until I literally slashed my wrist in the little psych admitting room. They were all busy treating raping, marauding sociopaths blaming their mental illness for their crimes to get out of jail.

I told you readers several times before, sociopaths blame "mental illness" because they prefer coed living situations with Seroquel zombie-fied catatonic depressive females who they can assault and get away with it over the all-male jail cells where they righteously belong.

Screw the criminally insane and their yellow journalist followers. If a law-abiding citizen has no access to medicine, why the hell should they get medicine?!?! I say, if they want to blame their mental illness for the crime, let them suffer their mental illness. Once they stop saying "it was because I have an illness" and start admitting it is really because they are raping perverts who have anger management issues and no empathy for their victims--- then they can have their medicine.

Growl. I am so mad right now. To make things worse, I volunteer for a group that is supposed to promote equality for the mentally ill, yet they are toting this article as a "godsend" which will help the mentally ill. *gasp. Apparently, they are not thinking about myself or the other woman who he apparently managed to rape completely (I managed to escape by kicking a lot, but with bruises).

Growl. What about the millions of people who are mentally ill but who OBEY the law? Now WE cannot come out of the closet because all anybody hears about is how the criminals don't get their psych meds and commit monstrous crimes because of it! I am sickened. Totally sickened.

Sickened. Thank God I am free from that evil mental hospital and I don't have to  put up with any rapists sneaking into my room and attacking me while I am asleep. I have to remind myself that I am safe now. I am sane now. I am a law-abiding citizen with free will who respects other law-abiding citizens. I am safe...I just have to keep saying that...I am safe...I am safe...that criminal is in a jail cell somewhere...and I am safe.

"I Want a Breast Lift" & "Booby Image Issues"

The up and down swings in my weight have had an effect on more than just my body image and appearance; it has affected the size and shape of my breasts. Every time I lose weight my breasts get a little bit smaller. I have gone from a 36FF to a 34G to a 32G in a year and a half. Then, I gained weight and went back from a 32G to a 34G.

Yes, I fail the pencil test. For the record, that pencil test is better suited to see if a B cup or smaller is "perky." If you can put a pencil under your breasts at a 34G and have it fall you must have implants or magical breasts.

Right now, I am not happy with my weight or my breasts. I would like to lose 35 pounds so I can be 135 pounds. My goal to lose weight this summer burst when I found out my ex-boyfriend AND a classmate died this summer. I started to comfort eat. I have it a bit under control now with the help of a counselor, but I am still 165-170 pounds again (earlier in 2012 I weighed 148 pounds). You can always tell when I am stressed out or in mourning when my weight increases. You can tell when I am happy because I lose weight. I am annoyingly predictable that way.

So, my breasts aren't sagging much, but there is some sagging. Still, I have to wonder if comparing myself to augmented Hustler's models is the way to determine my level of sagging. My nipples still point up, but the fleshy tops of my breasts are not as full as they used to be.

In a bra I like what I see, out of a bra, I am only moderately okay with what I see. I may have a breast lift after I lose weight, especially if this sagging gets much worse in the next two years.

Being a 34G can be a hassle. First, everyone assumes that my breasts are big only because I'm so overweight. Not true! When I dropped to 130-135 pounds back in 2009 I was still busting out of my biggest bra; a 36DD (it was far too big in the band and not big enough in the cups, so my real size back then is a mystery). My breasts have just gotten bigger as I aged. At age 29 I dropped down to a 32G, which is smaller than a 34G both in the band and in the cups, but since I turned 30 I am now too wide for the 32 band and too booby for the 32G cup.

Other complaints include: back pain, chronic slouching, chronic scolding from my mother when I stand up straight ("stop sticking out your chest" she yells), chronic wardrobe malfunctions, bras that are too tight and leave indentations along my rib cage, bras that are too loose and leave me with worse back pain, spending 5 minutes every morning deciding just how much cleavage I should show that day and what bra would maximize or minimize my cleavage, not being able to cross my arms because it makes me have massive cleavage (and this is my natural reflex when I am self-conscious or feeling insecure), not being able to run without running out of breathe and enduring tons of boob sweat, having to spend 80 dollars on a bra that fits (and that is just the starting pay for a bra that fits; the better the bra, the more money it costs. 90-130 dollars is a 'good bra'), wanting hot guys to look at my breasts, getting annoyed when much much older men stare at my breasts or make lewd comments about them, trying to ignore when my professors spend more time staring at my boobs then anything else in the room, that awkward moment when I am walking up to their desks with my exam and their eyes are glued to my chest the whole time to the point where I want to just chuck my exam at them from my seat and roll out the door in a ball....the list goes on. It is understandable that having a bigger than average body part(s) can cause people to become curious, but sometimes it is a bit maddening. I start to feel like I am just a pair of boobs walking around waiting for someone to impregnate me. I resent when a male that I am not attracted to says something dirty or keeps staring at my boobs. I should wear a shirt that says "if you read this you better be moderately attractive, within my age range, and not married, or else rich and intelligent." Maybe my standards are too high?

Oh well. I cannot imagine a life without boobs. I used to be pretty flat before the age of 22, so I can still remember preening for the mirror and imagining what a C cup would look like on me. Now I am a G cup. So, for now I'll just go watch a BBC documentary called "My big breasts and me," a short film that follows pretty women with big boobs as they wander around complaining about their big boobs.

Yeah, today is definitely a major cleavage day. I'm pulling out my mio destino bra for this morning. Have a great day! May the boob force be with you!

"Leviathan Monster or Leviathan Mother?"

I have found a really good lecture on youtube about various political/economic philosophies. I was just writing about how Leviathan governments are not so bad because they protect me, a former mental patient, from angry, prejudiced mobs waiving pitch forks. This video looks at several philosophers, including Hobbes, Rawls, and one other philosopher whose name eludes me at the moment.

I found it to be both entertaining and intellectually stimulating. It is easy to follow for a non-political scientist and it even has little animations alongside the lecturer (which is good because I  have no attention span).

The link is at the bottom of this blog entry.

As a former mental patient, I feel a strong connection to the "Mother ship," the entity that protects me from the wrath of ignorant cretins that like to post their prejudices all over the yahoo comment section. This "Mother ship" is the government. Ironic, is it not? I, a paranoid schizo-affective, who once believed that I was going to be framed, tortured, and revived only to be tortured more, now surrender myself to said government. Why? Because, between the State and well, you maybe, I pick the State to decide my fate. This is not to say that I have total faith in the State, that is far from the truth. The reality is that I have even less faith in the general population, especially those who leave comments on Yahoo news articles. The general population would love to get their hands on my womb and sterilize me so that I cannot breed (because mental patients are hated and scorned by society and they are deemed as Untouchables, the lowest caste of people, worse even then felons). Furthermore, they would like to dismember me and perhaps perform a bizarre exorcism on me to rid myself of whatever imaginary demons religious people believe causes mental illness. FYI, it is just a genetic propensity towards neuro-chemical imbalance, but that takes all the fun out of hating an otherwise innocent population.


But I digress, I surrender myself happily to the State and the great Mothership named mother Leviathan for the following reasons:

1) The government decreed it would pay for my undergraduate education and continues to pay for my education during my current stint in the Master's program. In case you think that no, you the taxpayer paid for it, then you are wrong. You did not volunteer your taxes, the State mandated that you pay taxes because otherwise people would not pay taxes and we would have no freeways, no public education, and no hope for future generations.

2) The government pays for me to get treatment through the county. Again, if you think it is the taxpayers, it is the State that mandates said taxpayers to fork over the cash, and will enforce this mandate if you decide to abstain from your duties.

3) This blog is likely being monitored (wink wink) and being the paranoid I am, I chose to play the little Teacher's pet rather than start ranting about class warfare and how I cannot afford simple dental care and how it's not fair and is totally a violation of the bill of rights concerning class, race, and disability equality. So, instead of saying those things, I say "I chose you, Uncle Sam."

Thanks for reading!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mm8asJxdcds

"Internet Bullies Make Me Nervous" & "Finding Daddy online"

Internet Bullies Make Me Nervous

Hello! I was just on my favorite website happily participating in the global cyber community, when suddenly---a woman I have never seen before typed in a very cruel remark and insulted me as a human. I  have my picture up and a link to my facebook page so I am concerned that said person will continue her angry tirade against me via other sites. This really makes me fear cyberspace. She not only intruded in my little world, but she spat out hateful words that I bet she would never say to my face. Online bullies are like closet sociopaths. They must all be outed!

I am still a little shaky from being berated by a stranger. If they humiliate you publicly, who knows what else they are capable of doing?

As for my sex life, it is nil. The only contact I have with the outside world is through cyberspace (one reason why I am so irritated by that woman who wrote insults all over the internet about me).

Finding Daddy Online

In other news, my father wound up in my email box. Apparently, we are both alumni from the same university. He made some "alumni hall of fame" and his little picture and name was listed in the email. My mother confirmed that he was my father. The man I never met and who never loved me, there, in my university email. This has not been a good week for me.

Secret Eavesdropping is Not News to a Paranoid

This controversy over Edward Snowden has many panicking. As for me, the data is old hat. I am a paranoid schizoaffective who has believed that domestic spying has been around since, actually, 1950, but most certainly it has increased since 2001.

I found the uproar to have some comedic properties. It just makes me chuckle that people are like, "You listen to me? ME?" Of course they do. And yes, there is a THEY. Over the years, I have adjusted to this 'delusional' belief system to the point where I can just go about my daily routine, graduate school, relationships, and so on, without voicing any of my so-called delusions. That train of thought runs in the background like a little desk fan, its little motor whirring away as I write, a little noise I barely perceive now and whose gentle wind is mildly soothing in times of heat. Well, welcome, friend. Welcome to my bizarre delusional world of government eavesdropping. They will not harm you so long as you do not get all riled up and start demanding that things change. It is their job to oversee and oversee they shall.

One last remark, I once had a psychiatrist tell me not to drive a car because I would get paranoid and think people were tailing me.

"I don't understand? Follow me, like, in a car? What is this, 1950? They have much better technology now. If they want to follow me, they can monitor me from space with a satellite. That works much better, I cannot out run it, and it can even pick up my vital signs," I replied, a little offended. Some things one cannot outrun and should not even bother to outrun. Like I said, their job is to oversee and oversee they shall.

Here is a link to an online article about how this secret spying program affects those with pre-existing paranoia, or rather, how it really does not affect them very much at all. Enjoy and thanks for reading!

http://news.yahoo.com/secret-spying-programs-affect-clinically-paranoid-182400238.html