Warning: The following thread is really long, rated TV-MA, and contains nudity, adult language, and adult content. Viewer discretion is advised. (This seemed humorous in my head for whatever reason, oh well) Also, if you've been diagnosed in the past with psychosis, don't try to treat yourself the way I do. I mean, unless it was a bs diagnosis, like when I was diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic when I was 4, because according to my dad "That doctor hated you for some reason. You kept making jokes, which he clearly hated. He didn't realize me and your mother both have extensive experience in the mental health field, certainly more than him, and that we wouldn't take kindly to him attempting to punish our four year old son with years of anti-psychotics for acting like a four year old. Don't worry, it isn't on your record anymore. Somebody who'll remain nameless saw to that. He also saw to it that the doctor was successfully sued for malpractice, which was how I could afford the pool that year, I mean how someone who'll remain nameless could afford a pool." I only learned when I was 16 that my life may have been way, way worse than it was because of a child psychiatrist who apparently hated children, or at least enjoyed hurting them. So I guess it's ok under very specific exceptions, like the one above. If it was just you who decided they diagnosed you with a psychotic disorder purely out of spite or that the diagnosis was in some other way invalid, and not a physician who spent his residency working in a mental hospital, sorry, you're probably just psychotic, avoid the activities described below.
Australia wrote:
i think its when im drinking beers with a friend discussing ancient mayan civilisation.
Me too, but it's hard liquor and the proto-indo europeans instead. The best was when I was drinking with a pal and my dad, loudly talking about how the European skygod as father mytheme is hypothesized to predate modern humanity, when some drunk guy a foot shorter than me decided to come over and call me a geek and tell me to shut up. Before I could say anything my friend and my dad had grabbed their (way too sharp) steak knives and chased him out of the bar, laughing and shouting "Run midget! It's time for your surgery!" (my dad, who was actually a surgeon at the time) and the word "BLOOD!" over and over (my pal). I wondered why I hadn't thought of threatening people who bothered me with a fatal stabbing before that point. The bar was empty other than us and the bartender, whom we are all on a first name basis with. He had never seen this drunk before though, and he said he'd lie through his teeth if the guy had the gall to call the cops, and they actually showed up. He said he had heard the guy and thought he was being an ass, and that he considered the fact that I would usually buy $80 worth of drinks and then tip 25% to be "Good character evidence".
That they would terrify another human being into believing he was about to be murdered, that just made me feel really loved, especially since I was about to softly apologize for the volume of my voice, and explain that I have an idiopathic nervous condition that makes me have difficulty with modulating the volume of my voice, as well as that I've suffered a bunch of head injuries, none of which improved things on that front. When it was over in about 5 seconds I was shaking and laughing. "What if he comes back with a gun to kill us all?" I asked, feeling nervous now. My pal said "I slipped my glock underneath the napkin I'm pretending to rest my hand on. Yeah, that one right on the table. Stop staring at it. He comes back and there's an object in his hand that I don't instantly and with complete certainty recognize as a cellphone, well, 'Officer he had threatened us earlier, and we all thought he was carrying a gun. This was a tragedy that could have been avoided if he had simply not returned, clearly trying to make us think he was armed. Officer, have you seen my prosthetic foot? I lost the one God gave me getting blowed up in Afghanistan, while being a hero". I told him I didn't like hearing violent talk like that, then laughed at him invoking God when he's an atheist, then I laughed at him claiming to be a hero since he had actually lost his foot when he accidentally stepped on a live mock-up of the trigger explosive from an IED in a training exercise (or something like that).
The best part is he wasn't a student, he was a teacher, and was supposed to be training people in safely dealing with discovered IED's before the guys who defused them showed up, whatever they're called (I don't listen to his war stories very closely, since the majority of them contain enough violence and racism to make me forget for a moment that he would stand up for me, usually with his fists, in gradeschool when nobody else would. Wow, he's always been violent, thinking about it now). You know, simple stuff like "Don't step on the bomb, which unlike actual bombs, is clearly marked, so you won't step on it". One day after he got back, after I was sure he didn't have PTSD over his injury, he was helping me clean my basement (very slowly, since he wasn't used to the new foot, and when it comes to housework I'm just plain lazy) when I stepped on a big carpet tack without shoes. I demanded he recognize my heroism and we both snickered. Yeah, I know I'm happy when I get to spend time with the people I love. That you're even both alive at the same time, on the same planet, in the same country, and that you both speak the same language is about as close to a miracle as anything I've ever heard that wasn't supernatural bs.
equestriatola, I know what you mean about smiling, I've had a smirk virtually painted on my face since I began my, let's call them "Traditional Ecuadorian Medicine-Inspired Autism Treatments And Personal Growth Sessions" five months ago. I can see now that there's just a lot to smile about in the world, even with all its suffering. The day after the first time, in a class I was taking, my professor asked me why I looked so happy. I knew she was a Cheyenne Indian, whom I had learned in my research were a people who practiced peyote ceremonies, so I figured I would risk it and be honest since it was not unlikely she had done peyote in a ritual setting at some point, and she always loved honesty more than tact. "I used a tea made from peruvian torch cactus, which is a South American plant that induces effects extremely similar to peyote, but is legal for me to possess. I was suffering from depression and alcohol addiction before, but as crazy as it might sound, I feel like I'm all fixed." (edit: I saved the AS reveal for the final, since she had sad earlier Temple Grandin was her hero and she's deeply involved in some kind of charity that tries to help autistic children living on reservations receive improved care, and she had basically told us the more personal things we revealed in our tests the higher our grades would be, which I initially wasn't pleased about, but she found me fascinating for some odd reason)
At that point, for a split-second, an identical, lopsided smirk appeared on her face, which she tried to hide immediately out of some kind of respect for the experience, since it can be solemn for some people, which I gathered the Cheyenne believed it typically should be. The telltale, half-second smirk had betrayed to me that she experiences it more like I do though, as a visit to Disney World without leaving your house, and somehow it's also educational. When the conversation was over, I realized I had made some rather sophisticated observations about her facial expressions, much more complex than my usual thoughts about faces. Then I realized that when I hadn't been reading her feelings by her facial expressions, we had been making continuous, unbroken, direct eye contact. And it didn't bother me, at all. Eye contact was a part of human communication, and being a human, of course I would make eye contact with other humans. It showed people were sincere, and that they cared about what others had to say, not that they wanted some kind of hostile confrontation with someone.
It seemed so obvious then, like I should have realized it as a toddler. At home later, I sat dumbfounded at the fact that simply by eating a plant (something which came about as a result of millions of years of random mutation and the relentless brutality of natural selection, adapting its form to fit its environment), you could learn new things. I'm sure it's learning, and not a delusion of some kind, because everything I learn from it, I suddenly realize NT's take for granted on instinct alone. If I ever became convinced of anything weird, I would quit using it and go see my psychiatrist, but honestly I don't think that will ever happen. It just makes you realize things that most other people already know, like even though we're going to die some day, life possesses enough beauty that maybe that's ok, or that people aren't constantly judging you anymore like in elementary school, or that a girl is not going to get together with a posse of her friends and torment you for daring to try and rise above your station by asking her out.
One odd side effect, I love the smell of perfume now, it evokes thoughts of femininity and loveliness, which as a heterosexual male I of course enjoy very much, instead of it making me feel like somebody is trying to smell bad on purpose, just to offend people with sensitive noses, because they're jerks who think it's funny. My mom still thinks people wear scents to try and dominate others, and that wearing a strong scent was a surrogate for physical violence. Yeah, if somebody wears a deodorant you don't like, it's only because they can't legally beat you up, which they absolutely want to do, it doesn't have to do with differing tastes or anything like that. If she brings it up again I'm going to tell her that sounds like something I would have said when I was 10. Not that I want to shame her or anything, I just feel like she needs to accept the fact that people aren't doing it just to piss her off. On the other hand, she gets excruciating headaches and will sometimes break out in a rash when around people wearing perfume or cologne, so maybe she deserves a scapegoat to blame.
Last edited by Buttoneater on 22 Sep 2012, 11:41 am, edited 1 time in total.
22 Sep 2012, 12:12 am
