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April 7, 2019, a point in time

287, no booze, and I remembered.

What a shitty night, though.  I don’t have much issue falling asleep.  I’m not an insomniac.  What happens is terrors attack me about an hour into sleep.  Last night I started shaking at all four extremities, and it went inside towards my heart.  I thought it was going to stop my heart.  This happened two or three times.  The second time I got up and ate some Jordan Chick Peas (did you know there was such a thing?  Like Jordan almonds, but with chickpeas.  I bought it at my local Arab grocer, along with some honeycomb, Amba and sumac).

If I might describe this, it is like the worst, scariest scene in a horror film, the one that makes your skin crawl (if you still possess the ability to react), jumping out and attacking your skin.  What would you do?  You’d jump out of your seat.  You have a thousand spiders on you.

Yeah, so I got that. I’ve seen many “professionals”.  They are mostly fucking idiots.  I think on balance the world would be a better place if we imported a million witch doctors from Africa, if there are that many.  And if we wanted to complete the transaction with the actual benefits that flow from the actions of “liberals” with respect to the developing world, we would send them our psychiatrists.  We would fuck them over again, in other words, which is the main effect of most foreign aid given to governments (rather than the people: again, I am a huge Kiva advocate).

As far as I am concerned, the psychiatric profession showed itself to be made up mainly of mentally fucked up, arrogant, and largely whored out assholes when it failed to add Developmental Trauma to the DSM.  As I was reading in Sebern Fisher’s book last night (which I finally finished), one of the direct consequences of this is that, while you can get funding to study, say, anorexia, or depression, or OCD, you cannot get funding to study what they all share in common in early childhood.  You cannot get at the root.

This means that in fucking 2019 the framework STILL does not exist to even begin approaching these things intelligently, much less professionally.  It’s an ad hoc, patchwork approach, which works in some small number of cases because individuals are able to buck the system through their personal talents and charisma, but which by and large exists to make mental illness disappear, rather than be cured.  It is, in other words, utterly lacking in genuine compassion.  Small wonder most of these assholes are Democrats.  I have described that morality as “ersatz”, but it occurs to me I might describe it even more accurately as “plastic”.  Plastic morality for plastic souls.  Their morality may not be real, but it lasts forever.

So back to my central problem, I think I need to do neurofeedback 7 days a week.  I have been taking some days off, because I think there is value in doing it, seeing what changes, then doing it again.

But motherfucker, there are case studies in Fisher’s book where people are resolving very complex histories of horrific sexual abuse in less sessions than I have had.  I think my fucking Ph.D therapist made things worse by how he applied the protocol, but whether that is true or not, he certainly did not do anything with the skill Fisher apparently did.  I am my own therapist, because, with considerable justice, based on long term experience, I don’t trust anyone else.  That is the hardest way to do it.

But I will soldier on. I think I can avoid getting drunk tonight.  Tomorrow will be a particular challenge though. I think this self reporting is good.  It is boundaryless, but if it is useful to me, fuck it.