Closing down.

This is the last post for some time, some impossible to foresee stretching out into infinity kind of time. The endless loops of "I should have....when I was a boy" and "Yes but it is too late now, the CIA will torture me forever" have replaced "I have a brain tumor and will die within two hours".

Content changes, form remains the same.

Josh smoked 'Whitechapal skunk', took what ever drug anyone offered, so kind of what do you expect is partially how I feel. Alongside my anger and despair.

Princess K (who used alongside him) was due to visit last week and husband and I made it absolutely clear that she was never setting foot in this house again...

People are very kind to us, but I'm falling apart.

Last week we went out on the promised trip to Glastonbury Tor, but the painfulness of the constant monologue about pedophilia and being a psychopath, Josh's total lack of social awareness...I can't remember now if I got to the stage when I can't walk and just stand still in the street with tears running down my face? 

Oh yes, that was in the car park....I encountered that one for the first time the week before.

I think it is rage really?

A feeling of pure frustration and embarrassment and the words 'just I can't do this anymore' repeating like the sound of the boron rods stuck, unable to dampen down the reactor...leading to my personal Chernobyl style melt down.

There are work arounds.
Times when I can remember all the GTD / Bullet Journal style goodness the Internet has brought me in sweeter times of solitary blissful research.
I'm not bereft of ideas and ways to reconfigure.

I want to drag Josh round schools with a big sign saying DON'T DO DRUGS as a way to do some good out of this pointless waste of a clever mind. 

But I wont. 

No one does. 

Wondering if perhaps that's part of the problem?

If more people really knew, wouldn't less people play the game of Russian Roulette with drugs?

And me?
I don't like being told I'm brave or doing so well.
What I needed was not to have encountered a psychiatric service that bullies and belittles, dis-empowering everyone they meet...threatening is the more accurate word...

And my heart goes out to all the people in a similar situation to myself.

Because of all that has happened I've lost my daughter (who thought that we were ill treating Josh by not making him take drugs) I suppose she also thought that there is such a thing as psychiatric care?

I'm in almost constant play-back because what I'm going through is echoing a previous traumatic time, so the impression I have of myself is of someone who has had ropes and rocks tied to her legs and I've been thrown into the blackest part of the ocean.

Must have told you about going to the GP to ask if there are any support groups?
And I was given a print out of a web site....
Which was useful since only doctors have access to the world wide web...

So yes, ropes, boulders and black water.
Sure I imagine myself surrounded by little sea horses (hippocampus - defragging memories, constantly making sense...) trying to untie me, bringing me bubbles of air.

As the lights are flickering out...