I WILL NEVER INTEND TO DELIBERATELY 'JUST FOR THE HELL OF IT, TORTURE

MY PARENTS WITH ACCUSATIONS AND HYPROCONREIAC PREACHING!!

Fluster; past participle: flustered make (someone) agitated or confused. "you need to be
able to work under pressure and not get flustered" How I responded when Mom said I
deliberately #volunteered to have a oophorectomy with Dr. Cory Tinker.

Yes, I presently #regret that weak decision, as I ended up not going through with any such
action. I finally used #Ovcon-35 (Norethindrone and Ethinyl Estradiol) 28-day regimen to
reattempt regulating my severely unstable hormone disorder.

Why I understand that surgery is a weak ignorant decision, because it involves immediate
onset of #menopause '#HRTs' 'hormone replacement therapy'. That will certainly be a
recipe to cause #chaotic extreme mood swings, like ones I thought were horrific, if only I
knew.

My body couldn't already barely tolerate #enough with the use of birth-control pills;
resulting in severe mood changes the moment I take the pack. It's unacceptable, merely
reforming me into a dangerous #bitch to live with, meaning the #HRTs won't be any differ.

I only took one pack, to considerably change 'hopefully positive' my behavioral conduct
would eventually improve after oral treatment. A Gauh-Damn three years erode through
me, since this erratic condition that had developed when I was in my early twenties.

Exact reason, I don't want to live on hormonal therapy, because it causes major emotional
mood-swings that are #unpredictable and #threatening. I don't want people 'my peers or
parents' to start to believe or think I am suddenly #bipolar & struggles living with others or
myself.

I do not take any prescriptions, especially hormonal steroids, such as #ThePill. Hell, I am
so thankful and glorified that I will not touch an evil excuse for a false medicine to treat
biological hormones.
Those so called hormones are synthetic, to warn other women, so maybe they'll rethink
taking these drugs. Definitely do not opt for surgery, because it will 'could' ruin your body
& mind for the rest of your life; you matter. I couldn't never be able to be balanced again.

This is #true, I would've been worst off if I was taking #HRTs, and forced to believe that it
was helping me. When in truth, I'd become so terribly screwed up, that I'd have to be
sincerely #institutionalized. I would end up becoming #beyond hope for any positive
outcome.

I honestly don't wish to be locked up in indefinite solitary confinement for endangering &
since last behavior of threatened killing of both my parents, the only ones 'immediate
family' in my life to exist.

This directly reasons why I swore that I wasn't joking or messing around 'was extremely
serious' about the ovarian surgery 'operation'. That was my human 'personal' sacrifice of
short suffering 'pain' to conclude the evils 'sin' I've constantly inflicted on my poor parents.

My parents never deserved my #uncontrollable behavior against their right to live in their
house or in my life. Seems as I became anguishly #defiant and feeling #rejected at the
same time. My parents need to know how much I deserved to become #PMDD consumed.

I deserved #PMDD, because I feel it taught me to open my eyes and get a hold of myself.
Because #PMDD made me end up finally get a chance to visit 'for a personal week' to the
psychiatric institution, and almost got locked up.

I deserved #PMDD, because I feel it taught me to open my eyes and get a hold of myself.
Because #PMDD made me end up finally get a chance to visit 'for a personal week' to the
psychiatric institution, and almost got locked up.

Mom declared firmly that she the last five yrs ago had begged me to work or do something
with myself 'in public', deliberately stating that I wasn't listening as I'd acted like I was
refusing to budge. I believed rationally that I had a reason for my action of not working
then.
I didn't listen to her begging or nagging, because I felt personally and emotionally that I
had too often been severely hostile and 'out-of-control' 'too much' each week per month at
the time, unfortunately for years, lasting too consistently, due to #PMDD 'severe PMS'.

I couldn't live with internalized guilt or burden that I would be a possible unwanted threat,
as pictured from past incidents that had happened prior, like screaming uncontrollably in a
store, public place unwillingly. The same threat would eventually have me worried.

I had history of hitting people, being my parents in the chest and shoulders without self
control or reliable willfulness of freewill. I felt I was being considerate of others by, if you
picture, allowing myself to be quarantined, to protect others from myself. -My thinking`

Having feelings of a frightening circumstance that hinders your ability to maintain your
sanity 'taking simple words or phrases too personal 'seriously', and preaching as if it was
the worst thing on the planet to be said aloud to me. Everything felt like a timebomb
'trigger!'.

I am not a raging out-of-control bitch! I was under the evil influence of some type of
hormonal outburst that was severely unbalanced, since my uterine ablation, even with
honesty, the terrible suppressed behavior existed prior this procedure.

It's because I cared, loved out of inner respect for others besides myself, explaining why I
deliberately, myself, refused, and yes thoroughly listened to Mom, but couldn't help it, by
practically giving up enough, to just crawl through the living Hell of my hormonal illness.

Like that woman said about her illness, she claimed, stated clearly that others, even loved
ones, wouldn't dare understand her condition, unless it was cancer, like my cousin, which
hit home, and her stark personal explanation about herself as a response on her case.

I had to go through an awful horrid rampage 'being a female beast' putting my poor parents
through a sad stressful Hell, besides my own. The nurses 'feminine doctors' called this
mood swings, but to me, it was more 'seemed' complicated than that.
I had definitive symptoms, like this woman, without knowing the cause' resulted source' of
the illness, for the last previous three years, before I began slowly piecing my problem
together, going though Autism, Bi-polar, Insanity; being blamed for my known disorders
'sad'.

When hormones appear 'are taking over' overwhelming the normal functions of the mind &
body, a man or woman, even once having been normal, become aggressive and attacking
at anything 'any individual' either human 'my parents' or not, our 'dog', sadly, was a victim.

I will never be further 'on my conscious' personal guilt 'strained weight on my shoulder' to
take my irresponsible behavior at any human being, even if it's my parents again, but at
that time, it was feared that I would attack others, because I knew I was unpredictably a
threat.

I feared constantly, even for a length of time, my parents thought, I will attack others, other
people, who are just civilians and are innocent. I feared, knew my triggers would get set off,
I eventually buried, suffering through my eruptive inner feelings.

It felt like these depressive feelings will burst 'fuse out of my body' like an over taxed
teapot, but more like a volcano, that won't take it, 'pressure' anymore stress. People's words
during conversing, felt anguishing, unwanted fuel to my developed rage.

That's why I knew I had become hurt 'about OCD harm', worried 'feared anxiously' that I
wanted to leave due to the negatives cloaking the so called class of painting art at the Olive
Branch library during this time.

I made three '3' years at the Olive Branch library with a fine outcome on the art principle. It
was just the last following end of that year, when I left the decreasing art attentive class
'usually only made up of elder' 'seniors,' no one in my age group.

Yes, not a soul yet in my life ever again, who's been in my age category, as it was when I
was either in college or high school.
I did felt heinously isolated, when I was persistently reminded that these people were my
friends, but never anyone to directly learn from, like those my age. Hell, I still do, even
though I am out of college right now. Even due to this present virus, no one around me, my
age.

No interaction with those who 'can' share what others do whom are close to my age. I still
remain to feel that this is a further debilitating issue developing; not being around other
people who are my age, won't learn how they are while living during their late 20's & mid
30's.

This certainly results in personal loneliness. You can't convince me that I have 'will accept'
just people who are 'old' over 60 yrs', to be my friends. Not too good, because they just
said, I was a kid compared to them, which sounded belittling and rejectful.

Another thing, they usually acted avoidant to me, not giving me a chance to express myself
at the painting class.

They acted like I was doing something terrible by telling some about myself and my
present interest, but they stole it away, and constantly ruled the conversing at others, not
ever letting me speak again, being rude, and thoughtless on how one sounds when
speaking.

What I mean, she being somewhat new, acted rude to my point of perception, got upset
because I was speaking on my behalf; but she kept refusing to let up about herself, and
letting me know she hated it when I express my little thoughts of a simple attempt to
converse.

They need to learn, regardless of age, let others, like myself, who struggle to speak or
interact, yet they act determined to keep me from ever talking again during the painting
thing. They 'only' allowed the ones who were their 'age' to talk and relate their thoughts.
I felt canned, and obviously hurt by their slow under cutting rejection. Yes, I am genuinely
flustered about it.

I was getting decently along, but knew it was provided that older people were already
attracted to the offer, for the first few years. I got the subconscious feeling that I weren't
seeing anyone younger then 60 anytime soon there. 1st I'd accepted it, than later I got
concerned.

I swore to return to college 'turned out to be Northwest in Miss., some, 4+ years later, from
constant pushing and unnecessary dragging.

I went back after no activity, decides the last art thing, and before that, just that God damn
psychiatric hospital. I wished people wouldn't over emphasize that place as a literal Hell,
because they're suppose to 'help' crisis situations in people's lives & law enforcement.

I couldn't be employed in anywhere; I wanted to protect the lives and respect of other
people. I would never feel like I was about to victimized other undeserving peers or casual
workers with my demented mindset. That'd will immediately cause 'result' in impacting
consequences.

I will not 'dare' physically harm or verbally abuse others without the natural sense of
control over my behavior and free will. I demanded to allow to rehabilitating time and
some how overcome the evil inhuman person I've become. I listened to Mom, but a horrid
fear -- is -->

I wanted with shear honesty about compassion for others, decides how I affected others.
My in dept concern was strong, about never allowing a chance to further happen to
endanger anyone. A simple fact, ever heard of a threat to thyself and others case?

I already know, provided, that these outsiders would lock me up, before my head would
spin! I, at least, for once, maybe, was No Damn Idiot to assume that it was 'okay' to put me
back into society, like nothing was 'wrong'.
My personal video log journalized red camera style. I was just moping over my recent
institutionlized self that only just happened an approximately four months prior back in
August, the last year. I was moling over what is wrong and the circumstances.

I remember when I was instructed that, in the so called session, to write exactly through
emotion, on my immediate thoughts. This feeling that I was deliberately being setup to
loose by being as told, too honest, but since it described from emotion, meaning it's not
literal fact.

When I state it as not literal, I meant when you write or speak through emotion; you're
unable to express it with seriousness and intended plotting against someone, especially a
loved one. I do believe this should not be licensed Therapist, did intend her action as a real
plot.

A plot to convince my Mom to put #Me in their complete Hell of control, similar to how
communists China is when operating their concentration camps for certain ethnic groups. I
will inform you what was basically written in this trick, freak journal of hers.

I wrote in the dark booklet, thoughts declaring an elicit, alleged behavior; beating Mom
with a bat, assumingly wooden. This was my emotion of fear 'anxiety', at my thought
pattern, scaring #Me over what I dreaded, I might do.

I am currently aware that my severely irregular hormone imbalance was the 'catalyst' of my
behavioral & mental case. This chemical 'influence' deranged my original anxiety
symptoms to get ten times worse.

That deeply hurtful 'emotionally', Therapist took demeaning advantage of a damaged

person, #Me, and threaten to act against my cause for being in the session.

She aimed first to attempt her plot by frightening Mom by a this phone called to try
convincing her accept her referencing at my entry in that ridiculous I'll intended journal.
She proclaimed through personal realist experience of raising #Me, that I had never
behaved as violent.
To put an adult autistic into a position where being forced to explain feelings 'emotions' is
one of the most difficult & nearly impossible scenario to be pushed on such affected
persons, like as it was for myself in that stressful cornered situation.

Mom told me I'd wrote 'that', because I was already emotionally handicapped 'heated', but
relatively the same, being that it was more specifically letting out #hotair. I still hold myself
next to my proclaimation, by admitting that in the following reason for those words, #fear!

The days ahead after the shocking incident involving this Therapist & I, when Mom repeats
to her that I am expected to participate in the sessions, as that's only what she's #paying for
to be covered. At the end 'last' day of the session, the insurance #cut the payments further.

Heart wretched over the #JournalCatastrophe, I without question, there what once
belonged to my Father, a wooden bat that was buried in his closet; three into the garbage
hampered container. The next day afterward, I made √sure that the garbage pickup truck
arrived to get it.

When I was certain the bat along with remaining garbage bags were picked and taken
away, therefore resulting as inner anxiety fueled relief. Mom is correct about my persona
and conscience, that I would never hurt her in any from that conjours violent intentions.

Whoever thinks I had ill will at anyone is filled with madness & sounds like, through past
reviews, to be lust with pride each time a person is purposely, increasingly debilitated after
being admitted into #BHS psychiatric hospitals, like myself. #FailureOfTreatment

I was contented when the sucker is hauled away safely, so I won't keep inhumanly be
reminded of this mounting horrific incident that happened back at the hospital ward. I
wanted to allow myself technique methods of recovery to hope for possible chances of
rehab & healing.

In pure considering, I highly doubt I'd ever see myself putting these depressive flashbacks
on the mental imaginary shelf. When speaking about these sensitive subjects, I struggle
unevenly through the rocky elements of this extremely uncertain environment I was
effected in.

I realize that this buried anger roots from frustration, built up over the several years I've
been living, revealed through some of my disturbing dreams and violent out burst. Even I
found that I had healed compared, since than; is why my background self image breaks my
heart.

My final thought is honest from what I've grasped about myself; I have an aggressive
spectrum of Autism as moderate Aspergers. Back in my earlier years, when I was six, my
pedestrian Neurologist created a two of doc stating; #Me classified as an Autistoid child.

Later, Dr. Donald Eastmead, discovered a follow-up diagnoses after his first, when I turned
fourteen years old, developed an observable Pervasive mental processing directly next to
my advancing Anxiety disorder. Yes, not High-Functioning, but moderately-severe
Aspergers.

My speech 'ability to appropriately express my feelings' was impaired & my ability to

control my feelings while conversing was behind from how it's like from others my age. My
cognitive functions overall, including speech is awfully delayed compared to what others
expect as norm.

The anguish furrows into sadness, since the last decade after the behavioral &
psychological hospitalization. My demeaning and debilitating depression had at once,
mounted like never detected mentally before; what I've ever knew what I was next had
experienced prior.

It collaborated with the ailments of my Mom allowing the dog to 'bite' me, drawing bite
with painful results, & later ignoring the battle the dog behavior at me, each day I've lived
on Meadow Creek rd. Yes, I was angry over time, about aggression, 'how the dog acted
'behaved'.

Yes, my Mom got extremely frustrated and definitely anguished over how terribly I've
mistreated the dog 'in quote as of present', 'out of temperament' from being threatened of
'bitten' 'hands & feet' so often. She apparently didn't realize my actions 'response' was out
of #Fear.

Even though this dog already had a history of high temperament, I seemed to help bring
out it's fearful biting reaction #fearbiting. The dog 'she' would bite while growling &
aggressive barking. Yes, I understand it probably true if I've brought the behavior on.

As owners, my parents never actually trained this dog from puppy-hood not to show
persistent aggression or misbehave. They didn't understand how to raise this poor dog
from how to live, as we know right from wrong, and how to treat one another. This
particular dog, not for me`

As honest result, it was justifiably correct, that it's too difficult for this dog and I to be able
to get along or have a decent future worth admitting to. Yes, because of the last decade on
Meadow Creek rd., being so unforgivably angry at Mom, until I ended up attacking her.

Yes my behavior was strongly, since the last few years of dealing with an upset miserable
dog in that house, and how I tore into that animal, did I mention I lost it with this family
pet, kicking her into the next three rooms, like a football. I can't blame Mom for her
response.

It hurts me to be so unbelievably honest about this case, but I need to tell how it happened.
I've heard from Dr. Phil, that some ASD 'Aspergers' individuals can't always control their
feelings 'emotions' including words being said when so devastatingly upset on personal
cases.

Yes, it was a mixture, angry enough at Mom, but not gonna truly harm her to the point of
disfigurement. No, it's fact, that wrong's aren't fixed by threatening to harm another,
because she allowed harm to occur upon me, while being alone with the feared stressor,
the dog.

Today with Mom, I had a persistent manic talk over my PMDD health problem that still
haunts me along with blasted self-blame and emotional resentment. I tried to swear never
to horribly abuse verbally and irrationally that I couldn't get a hold of my frustratingly
difficult to control behavior. I substainedly blame myself for personal irresponsibility of not
applying any human ability to stop ✋ my illness for good. I begged my shame at Mom
over the seemingly constant pain 'emotionalism' that made my Parents claim that in the
process, I the stress was killing them, as the negativity was bringing them down. I feared
that was certain to get worse if I soon enough didn't my situation seriously with a probable
option of a partial hysterectomy. I ended up not taking it, thinking as the Doctor said, it was
only half true that this action would fix the violent behavior.

My strong regret is sometimes unbearable to maintain as flashbacks, since I keep being

forgetful of the prominent details, yet remember the obvious elements. I seem to act like a
mental repetition, mulling over the same subject that usually bothers my guilt years old,
upon my conscience. I just recall seeing myself as a terrible normal passed six awful years
on being a angry verbal abuse against my Parents. I'm not reviewing it, more as regarding
from anxious 😓 memories when somehow as talk about deserving Baptism, caused the
trigger 😱. Things cause me short attentive patience, because my mood already was too
unstable as is. My frustration is so suggestive of easily being annoyed by unpredictability of
machines, for example. The inability to be in control enough to manage something sensible,
like an Essay.

Talk can immediately result in mental previewing, referring as flashbacks are sometimes
debilitating to my normal train of thought, regarding processing, which already has been
diagnosed as Pervasive. Some unwanted subject will conjour an emotional relapse or set
back that will create a possible negative response. Going blank, being unable to think, is a
common inconvenience at this time. You're too upset to form steady normal thought.
That's my slight perception in that observation. For some reason, I won't entirely forgive
myself for those unimaginable and seemingly a living Hell, I've caused my two poor only
figures in my life. It's to do with the undoubted disrespect I appeared to expose as my
unreal normal personality, especially feared to put on Others, besides just them.

I already a depressed woman, more shock to my mind will feel more dire to knock my
nervous system into breakdown. No, I at those parts during my life, in my twenties,
definitely does not deserve to be Baptized. It's too unacceptable to tolerate a single thought
about a sick bitchy woman 🚺 have a Baptism ceremony. I know better than think I'm
method decided same people who only have become more like God, meaning that you
have to be more Angelic, before a Baptism with a Church pastor. Is there a method not to
'torment' my Mom over this underlying subject, my past behavioral and emotional problem
from my chemically 'hormonal imbalance' disorder that swung from my case of
Menorrhagia. I am so God Damn angry! You Shit work! I don't care how much can you
can't stand to hear it! I have to tell this, it's reality! and real problems happen to people, so
tough!

I literally hate posting a message on a mere tablet, instead of a computer with keys, not a
touch screen. Yes, I bled longer than seven days and it was changes in large horse pads
every thirty minutes to an hour apart. It was some expense to keep buying pads and the
cramps at moments were quite ending me up upside-down where I had to levitate my legs
on the wall. The world doctors claim this disorder is common, which more like disbelief. I
thought it effected more like maybe forty precept of the female population; No that was
PMDD as a followup. I am questioning if I have this? Polycystic ovary syndrome, as I've
heard it being mentioned on Criminal Minds, a CBS based TV series. Well, they didn't tell
me that my ovaries were enlarged in any way if I were last examined, but was noticing
some unwanted overweight ailments. I can't even type correct text without mistakes, even
the worst! Spelling.

I want forgiveness from some people, but don't overly be too concerned of what I did to
others, because it feels like it's too much or overwhelming to endure the feelings of
everyone, via the effects of apathy. Prozac, Fluoxetine is excellent for treating the hellish
symptoms of PMDD, but I had no sense, to take the drug 'SSRI'. Harvard Women's Health
states that the use of these mood stabilizer meds will get the problem in line. I noticed,
even though I had headaches, there was a strong signalized concentration of calm 'without
emotion' on the front table for me by this drug. It should have worked a miracle for me,
decides the God Damn HELL I caused my parents during those years. I was nothing but
causing ridicule and extreme stress around me, that my Mom dreaded ever wanted to
return home, as she ran away to Grandmother's home for any explanation for a reason to
get away and be other there instead. To avoid me, to stay farther away from my path of
vision.

Saying how I begin to hate myself when I go through this state is sad, because I hate what
suddenly happens to me. I do suffer, from since my old doctor, Donald Eastmead, stated I
suffered from Autistic Spectrum disorder and Generalized Anxiety disorder, along with
Pervasive disorder as I've said earlier. This combination later describes in the present as
Aspergers. I hate that definition of me; that's it, which is a disease that needs eradicating for
anyone else I'd ever knew in my life, whom I won't ever wish it upon. If you'd got it as
severe as I do, I trust you'd never have a future to look forward to, or even a working job to
get a fair income for gained salary to save into banking for any future necessities, like an
insurance.

Typed this back in 2012, about a sad & hurtful circumstance, distraught my parents
'convincing them' that I am unworthy of being a parent someday myself. I 'back a decade
ago' was in my twenties, had severe mood swings, making me unknowingly have
unresolved violent tendencies. This poor animal who once lived in our old house where I
grew up at, was dementedly tortured by my evil actions that I wished I could've restrained.
I became the one who was unpredictable & angry beyond self control.

This goes back to #year2012 when I was still emotionally debilitated by the dog situation.
It is an authentic true story, which tells it bluntly as it was. Only thing is, it states as I saw it,
and no other person, 'parent', ever perceived the problem. #pekingese

What's going through my memories? I thoughts on back when Mom acted too frightened to
get near me physically, because I recall her being as she said, weeks ago, that she was
scared. I ran to the Parkwood Lobby bathroom away from Mom's begging and strong
nagging, to argue anything second thoughts I had about that place she thought she could
just send me to without any conscious feelings that already had redirected my decision.

I had utterly felt the change in the environment, the shrouding darkness surrounding me
like a cold blanket of horror. That's why I suddenly ran thoughtlessly to their bathroom,
interpreting fear engulfing my personal speculation that I was being put into a real
'unpredictable' and badly run situation, compared to any other past environmental case I
had been involved in during my early life.

I was being upset about my position in what I didn't expect or was mentally prepared for. I
couldn't process the suddenness of the changing situation that was flashing before my
pupils. I actually sense consciously that there was a bad consequence of being in their
building behind their closed doors beyond the entrance that there was worse states ahead
and lessor rash

management with the citizens being treated there. I felt that I was being placed into the line
of fire, if that makes any figurative since.
My Mom's forceful push upon my physical direction was against my on instinct when I
looked last of those two big ominous doors. I was lost at my Mom's judgment to put her
own and only child into without at least back checking if any. She only went by what seems
disturbing and too far fetched to believe, were those advertisements, which may not be
anywhere close to the truth and any underlying aspects to the facts at all. She put her utter
and heart-filled faith into misguiding insane people running a beckoning place of horrors if
any less, run by white lies and con artist.

That's why I was vividly recalling that when I occasionally don't feel good or am
excessively tired. These similar flashbacks I've been having are related, and yeah, also refer
to when I had the most recent talk about this subject earlier last month.

As I've said, Mom didn't concern on taking any chances to consider otherwise, as to throw
me into the wave of burning fire, without any idea that'd there would be any encrusted
danger or risk of any possible 'emotional or physical' jeopardizing of me 'the one put into
that place', to be put into the open teeth of hungry sharks. My being, matters, and that was
more destructive to my existence, than of help, if that was a healthy enough to define that
term.

I had a two hour talk with Mom about Parkwood's influence on my mentality and their
debilitating psychological abuse speculation. I will share that I claimed to have flashbacks
exactly concerning the black therapist's actions that derailed my chances to think critically
straight. In my mind, she's coming at me with that tone in her voice that's threatening, and
promising punishment if I don't thoroughly follow. I was too frightened as I would be
indifferent today about her and others like her there, if they were going to verbally treat me
in that tactic. I knew based on what the legal paper stated of, that I was withheld from my
human rights as long I was tending there in their hands. My Mom strangely still doesn't
grasp the emotional damage they've corrupted upon my conscious and mind having to live
with this tyranny running through my memories of it. So, it was just a group supposedly,
but it's done corrosive damage that's lasted for at least the past several years thereafter. To
set and explain that is to the exact concern, it's still a 'bad' trauma.

I wished it didn't take further elaboration to tell Mom about, but it's turned out difficult to
aid her attempt any understanding of it. I am personally getting worn down by trying so
hard, and never feeling successful at any of my tries for aiding her knowing any feelings
I've experienced as it was. It spelled out when I read articles about these therapist's type of
aims to do with patients which was involving telling white lies to their family members or if
they were my age or younger, the parents. The white lies caused automatic failures for the
patients to heal or make healthy progress over their ailment of illness. Yet another
gruesome technique to land the individuals that once were patients, back in as patients
once again. In other words, it makes the hospital keep their patients in the unit regardless
of hope or other options for help.

I described them aiming to set me off or cause extreme upset to ultimately lead of
frustration, which most certainly will land me as a result into the hospital. That would've
been their excuse to place me without another second thought into that part of the unit,
even if it ignores my parent's wishes of where I should be. That was my thinking and how I
see it is as they're deliberately aiming at gaining and intentionally not discharging
'completely' their patients. The therapist was like a tool they had used in all angles and
zeroing out methods to force my well-being 'physically' back into their hands and control.
They still appear tyrannical to the few patients I've been around by taking their voice and
choices into their hands, whether than the hands that should be handling the most personal
decisions that directly affects them. That's when these therapists and so-called doctors are
seeming to act like dictators over the patient's rights and rational freedoms. Deconstruction
of a person's freedom is a signal of legal disapproval for the definition of human rights.

I simply ended up feeling so miserable and helpless there that I can't fathom how to
interpret any other way. It was the explanation of how that place was run, no matter what
unit was positioned in. Yes, I do agree that the hospital could definitely be worse in many
vicious ways than I had just experienced in the group arrangement. That still shouldn't
lesson the fact that it was still to be honest, bad enough. Sometimes if I tried agreeing with
Mom, it'll prevent any possible condition for argument or disarray of how we must see
things. Just because I was in the group counselling unit, doesn't mean it was at a particular
phase to be lessor of part that involved my response of personally suffering from their
shaming of my reason for being there and at me personally, suggesting a form of
harassment.

The conning therapist stated for Mom and I to start separating, but Mom interpreted a lot
more serious than I had thought, because the lady dictated fear into her if otherwise. The
pushed interest in taking away the human factor and causing isolation and abandonment
upon me as the patient. That lady looks nice about it in family redevelopment as a strict
suggestion, that only had horrid long-term consequences for me when dealing with any
type of positive healing and proper recovery in the next few long years. You can just
imagine how that effected my mind as an effect, I literally lost it. To be deprived of that is a
mental killer, and no more than. No more interaction or aid by other people or social
outlets. No more guidance and potential practices to replenish my mind. I won't lie, I was
told to literally lock my rear end up and hardly be a part of the world again. That only
achieve nothing and ended out in more burst of the built-up symptoms that still existed in
major depression.

I thought utterly that I was incapable of mending back in with the world after this situation
unfolded. For at least a long five years, of losing purpose and mental ability to adapt to
anything with doubt and fear having been developed from the contrast of depressive
episodes and my ability of actually function. This concept portion has that worded excuse
also as I've mentioned, why those who were patients, become patients again. The fixation
of how Parkwood does people, the general citizens, is just irate relentless and too shocking
to mentally wrap my mind around. I don't want to end up again in another setting where
you're in a box with such people like this in it, because it's too harsh and risky to even put
your skin into involvement with.

There's when I've heard clearly about the group's personal incidental stories that were
certainly depressing to process while hearing.

The other couple of references the elder black lady said was how she when discussing
alcohol, had usually tried to delude some drinks when gathering were over. Another one
was how she trendily slept until 4 PM each day, sounding like she was giving up and had
lost interest in living outside of bed.

She also said how words that were people's comments and opinions had driven her to fall
deep into a pit of darkness that she called the end of the vase where she is giving too much
unnecessary effort to climb needlessly out of. During that moment, it was about trigger
words, but that's obscenely overreacting to what people say to you, and heck ignoring if
possible, sometimes is a good approach.

Her depression she stated had been a burden to her for the last ten years of using
antidepressants that were already at four pills a day at certain hours.
The hyped up older while male who in time couldn't stop laughing had stated that he had
to rely on his dosed drugs to rescue him from taking it out on his personal family, such as
his daughter and wife. He was one of the alcoholics who was seeking to become sober from
it.

This group had changed my life forever, and had made me thoroughly indeed more aware
and completely alert of all these circumstances that hurt or alter people's lives.

Nah, I am NOT ALONE. I still needed more HELP about my needs, but that was somehow
left a bit hanging out there without total resolution, meaning I was still acting out of horrible
behavioral 'verbal' disarray without the hitting 'physical' abusive attacks at my own parents,
I mean that, still later ahead after this "out-patient" hospitalization within the #Parkwood
institution.

Parental abuse can leave a person feeling embarrassed, ashamed, angry and terrified.
These emotions are what we call ‘Parent Paralyzers’: feelings that are so intense they
overtake logic and reason.

Mom said that if I don't get out of the house after some length of time, I will risk rotting in
the house, literally, do the the wear and tear of aging without interacting or socializing with
anyone, any longer. It's a fact that situation is not really good for me to continue isolating
myself int the house so often.
Why do I? I fear I might harm or endanger outsiders or somebody. Ever heard of a person
say an individual is a danger to themselves and others?

That's how I phrase it when I consider the risk of being around other people without
supervision. I had been having a presented history to being an aggressive and
unpredictable, hostile person. In fact, hell, a long five year history to directly clear my
sentence of being a vicious, incriminating woman. Too long of parent and animal abuse
that was both physical and years of verbal bullying.

It just takes ignorance to let a wild, feral human out into the world again without imagining
that case to end out in a threatening consequence. My mind keeps reminding me often
daily of up to no good that I am, and had been for that long.
Think about the prisoners rotting away behind bars for so many years. House arrest?
What's really the difference?
Incarceration is spending so long, not that this house has bars like the old one did, but the
analogy was unpleasant to hear.

So long, without do very much, lingering and laying around, knowing how "bad", in the way
a goat would pronounce that word, I am.

Yeah, moping and somehow deliberately rotting through the years of doing nothing is more
than a reality for some jail birds. That's how terribly mad my Mom had gotten about my
assault on her that had happened eight years ago, since August of that year. I was
frustrated, angry at her than, over the pain it caused me emotionally concerning how she
dealt with our family dog when banging me on my head while saying that she was going to
hit me with my small suitcase sized book bag. Than, I clearly heard her screaming about
"how does it feel to be hit on?" I was just trying at that time to prevent that dog from
running out the door as she, the dog, had sometimes done before, except it was getting
dark around 6:30 P.M. It was happening all so sudden, and for some reason prior, I was
shaken so hard, trembling as if I sensed something awful was about to be confronted. I was
22 years old back than, and it was the later part the Fall semester of my last days going to
the Southwest Comm College in Memphis.

You wonder why I feel the way I do? I ended up being thrown immediately into a
psychological ward afterward, when I came back at Mom over that once persistent
flashback memory of her action on me. That utterly was the whole explanation that lead up
toward it.

Majority of the psych counseling covered just that incident alone. Didn't really fill in for any
other needed help for my behavioral care.

That's partially why when I came home when the insurance failed to keep me in out-patent
hospitalization, that I down the road, became more verbally and apparently "bad" once
again.
Ended up becoming a description easily fitting a stressful hell for my poor parents that live
or endure such a predicament. They constantly developed health decline and physical
degradation due to my uncontrollable abuse. They stated and felt as if I were slowly killing
them, in such a neglectful way.

I am still uncertain if I continuously was willing to want a result like this upon them for so
long.

That's strongly why I feel so resentful at this moment in time, about my behavioral program
that debilitated others, that included the only two people in my life, that are my parents.
I still find it hard to believe that they had crawled back into some form of recovery after I
quit the reign of behavioral swings.

In other-words, my entirety of my 20s were evil and devilish, from 23-28 yrs.

Nearing thirty years, it just stopped dead in it's tracks. My condition got out of that dark pit
of a rut. Thank God, cause my parents suffered from it for far too long. Whether I'd felt any
pain from it, yes, but I couldn't bare watching and seeing my parents fall from it's terror.

I admitted how sympathized about it in more sincereness, which leveled more into
resentment. More like an extreme regret to carry on my back like a iron ball to drag behind
me for as long as I remember it each day.

Getting nervous stomach pains as usual, while always holding on to this iron casted ball to
drag around. It's like a sin that hardly ever wants to leave any less than a scar that refuses
to completely heal.

So, that's literally how it is, at this current time. Nothing real new, actually. It's not what I or
anyone else, really doesn't already know.

The black therapist after the abrupt call she had made, immediately determined not to
allow me anymore participation with the group or even speak to the patients of the group
or comment. She'd forbid it and if I were caught, I would get a direct, maddened, lectured
about not saying another word about anything, or observed interaction if seen. I entered
the same room, just no longer did anything, feel like time passed by through half a day
without anymore attentive aid, unlike the others who had gotten it.

Like I said, a mere stump just sitting there most of the time, whether than otherwise. I did
try to speak or interact anymore, and only was rudely interrupted as a result to stop and be
silenced. No protecting, more like being dehydrated from a lack of help the whole time or
interacting in any form.

Only when I was leaving, did any words from me even be spoken or I be informed about
what was next. A terribly frightening moment, since the doctor was constantly nagging and
keeping me at a state of fear of what they were gonna do. When I was forced to literally be
left alone at a table without knowing what was gonna happen at any minute; when the so
called group left the larger room. When I've heard that it was over for any reason, I was
overwhelmed with built up inner relief.

I personally agree with this honest reviewer, who I suspect could be a mother. Said states
that they make a patient, like me or her son, feel worse about the things they'd done or
committed, putting the idea of helping aside a long time ago. That is partly why the call
you'd got was received, so make me feel worse and worse about it all. Increasing the
weight on a person through persistent critical intimidation.That only hurts the emotional
wound more, than help patch it up.
This issue was involving a group and a therapist situation.

That brave mother who got the nerve to put up a review up about this on the a website has
as a ton of courage. I noticed it, because it was similar to my circumstance.

The doctor there only prescribed him too much medication, and the group therapy sessions
were a joke. They weren't there to help, the staff only wanted to make the patient feel
worse about the things that they have done. It has been over 4 years, and he still brings up
how horrible the place was. I believe that it was the worst place we could have sent him. At
the time I didn't know what else to do, but he keeps telling me, "You should have looked up
the reviews." So, for anyone who is thinking about sending your child her because of
depression. PLEASE DON"T DO IT! It may scare them for like it did Me.
This is the thorough supply of data rich info about myself and my recent history.
I tried to be deeply honest and focused on the facts that occurred as it did without making
any exceptions.

Tremble or twitch

Be irritable or feel “on edge”

Have to go to the bathroom a lot

Feel restless and have trouble relaxing

I dreaded going to work because I couldn’t keep my mind focused.

My determined attitude to keep on attempt to edge myself again so often to recently derive
Mom into telling me from getting to the core of the matter so that maybe I can finally quit
talking about the same ole thing or rehashing old ground about my depressing upsetting
programs that had kept triggering my tension without our talks preventing social relations
that could be conversed without verbal conflict and arguing that sets off flustering and
temperament.

After the day was over, I felt decently content feeling that it was more of a closure to my
personal incidents within my life that I wanted so badly to get out and be understood upon
Mom. I admit it was hard, and she made it that way for a long time when refusing to hear it
and was way too upset to ever let me word it out until it I'd guess got lessor, than it used to
be fresh back than. Our such clashing emotional feelings about it had steered harshly, until
several years had already passed. Yeah, my patience had been tested about this, and later I
had to accept it until someone she could barely get herself to express that much to me
when I asked to be given that chance to word it out civilly if that was placed as a moment
for me to do so. I needed that moment, and that was as it turned out, all I could be allowed
to be provided.
Since finally I think I could at least feel there's a potential that the problem could be
decently understood and grasped meaningfully, I think it's now okay that I can move on
from there. I had been stuck, you see, for all this time in my inner portion of my heart. This
idea I've had since that moment, could hopefully give me leeway to move forward from the
past somewhat efficiently better than it was before that. I still doubt the struggle of my
emotions over it has ended, but my talk I pray should be.

I got upset with Mom thinking that she said I was heard howling when I was saying
"I..................." in such a long way without another word to state that I was saying a
sentence. "IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII.........!" can't process another word. I couldn't think clearly with
such a fogged mind when trying to work through printing a paper for my speech class
citations and the idea of going estate selling at once. I couldn't multitask at that very
moment, which caused me to rush the two thoughts and end up making a quick careless
mistake with the ink by doubling up on using two 'new' inks by accident. I failed to print out
that extra citation since the ink got ruined, because that's wasteful. I couldn't talk due to a
moment of immediate frustration of how my attention didn't help me get anything
accomplished right when asked to do something else. Mom thought I was loosing it, saying
that I was gonna be put away or locked up for making such a temper tantrum noise from
what I was putting myself in upstairs with the homework vs the sale. Now she'd deny that
anything exactly what I heard her say was true. I guess she didn't want to continue
upsetting me after how I came down stairs to attempt explaining why I did that behavior at
Father.

That alone was it's own frantic talk on Mom without anymore than trying to defend the
problem and reason for my action. I got to slow down and allow some time to process my
ability to think straight and be able to manage myself better with more than one task
thrown upon me at once. Usually during my idea of doing chores, that's resulted in an
improved method. There's a reason why I reacted in such an immense emotion after
finding out that I can't do what I normally able to get through without much struggle and
mess up. I reveal that was had taken three doses of vitamin D that my Father had gotten a
recommended offer from his doctor for health regulation. It caused me some troublesome
irritable anxiety to be more persistent with twitches and tension in my muscles. I also
noticed formed breast pain and soreness when I moved or laid on my front. My Mom
heard my confession and than deliberately told Father to hide the proscribed medicine into
only a place where he knows to find them, instead of being so obvious to me as it was. I
was told about how ignorant I was been with that act alone, no matter whether I howled or
not, to present myself as remaining immature over the taking of other people's 'parent's'
medicine.

By today, I told Mom that yesterday's action was unacceptable and lying about my
behavior of taking pills or inappropriate actions should not be an excuse for how I thought I
didn't know there could be significant side effects to Vitamin D at such a high dosage when
taken by itself, unlike how it could be as with a multivitamin mix or it's use in fortified
foods. It was like about 2000 mcg per gel capsule times three. I am so sensitive to nearly
every chemical, including that ordinary drug that I thought was not so bad. I acted with
such a manic talking fit, would not stop talking to try and describe what I thought fight was
why I responded to Father in such an abrupt way. Nah, I could have easily be able to do a
couple of task that was told directly to me by Father, even though rushing to meet his
interest didn't seem easy. That was in a timely fashion, as my thinking lags too much when
I am told to rush through a normally paced procedure to get a simple job or two done.
What do I know or have learned? I can still take certain medicines, but much milder than
what I had been. Physical pain and discomfort is something I often have to deal with, while
driving, walking, or sitting.

My pain arises from tension of anxious nerve endings being forced to tighten up from
insecurity and fears that at times are irrational. It starts with internal worries that have
mounted over a periodic stretch, than turn into those anxieties that begin to effect my
muscles and joints to the core. This does result in making certain task very difficult and
pointlessly challenging. I used to take driving a little more ease than that, but now I am
literally shift in the car seat for any attempt help with comfort and posture that seems not to
really exist about it. College finals are not that awful to cause such inner stress to effect so
many portions of my well being. Half that time, this doesn't make sense if I trying to talk
my path through it as if I were guessing, more than knowing. I admit I don't entirely
understand why I hurt so badly when doing task that other people can do without feeling
constant soreness, and anything else that doesn't fit the situation. I had been certainly
wishing only to stop this unnatural pain that comes to frequently in such unwanted times.
Some people in this generation call it chronic pain that can strike your nerve endings
without much warning, and in the most inconvenient situations while you're trying to
manage through it. I also wished I had known how to loosen up my nerves that had caused
this chronic pain when being experienced.

I used to get so upset about how I hated the doctor and was mentally thinking irrationally
of how mad I was at him. I am referring to Tinker, during that time, some four years ago. I
just was misinterpreted by Mom as she said to me yesterday; when I told her while trying
to inform that I had hardly even meant such careless words about him or any
emotionalized feelings toward him. I can relate about this, thenceforth of how I also
remember speaking and feeling this way about another doctor named Eastmead who was
my brain physician. I had to got to these doctors for more of a mental circumstance than
any specific physical problem.

This was an unacceptable behavior occurring over verbal accusations and

decriminalization of certain people who had effected me in some way. My temperament of
how I was thinking irrationally without meaning a word I has verbal over could have been
unsaid to anyone, was still uncalled for and inappropriate. Blaming others about an unfair
struggle I has been circumcising through with an ailment that I still remained to not entirely
understand. From the Talk show, the women said that it could've been related to a form of
disruptive coping until I could deal with the problem eventually.

I know that it's wrong to dictate false feelings and blame upon others who were supposed
to be doing good for me, but maybe I for sometime wouldn't see it deep down long before I
realize that they meant well. After all the flustering emotion was put aside, it later became
sensibly clear than what it use to be pictured in my head about these people. As Mom said,
I will be sure to lay down the next time I have any terrible negative thoughts or tension
upon any particular person or about some person that has effected me in my life that I
didn't like or take acceptance toward.

I also feel hopeless occasionally when I have these repetitive off and on worries about these
similar matters. Sometimes these feelings before too overwhelming to bare, so I start
manically talking too long out of pure stricken anxieties. It's like mini anxiety attacks
weighing down on me through just about any incident or words that are brought up to me
in any situation.

I do hope this has helped bring a clearer image in your mind about how it is for my
personal day by day mental expectations have turned into since I've tried to manage with
this.

Mom told me that once in a time way back than, before I was born, there was a crazy
incident. She told me that my great Grandmother told a story about how a woman who was
mature of age, went mad or as they put it than, lost it, her mind, as they depicted her
assuming to be insane by instantaneous judgement before doing any physical back
checking for if there were any health evidence to prove a reason if any about why she was
going out of her head. Instead of checking for any health explanation of her behavior and
actions, they just strapped her into a bed and haled her away in a unmarked vehicle to an
asylum at that time.

Without giving her a evaluation or physical, to just do that to a woman in this case, of any
other person, is beyond what I can fathom as too revolt of her rights and consent, even if
they had knocked her out before taking her to a mental hospital.

Mom said they had no pill or shot form of birth control medicine to regulate women of such
a debilitating mental/health condition that causes such symptoms that result in loosing it
and eventually assumed to be insane.

That's only one possible prediction to estimate what the woman's issue was. There are
other health ailments that may cause the same terrible mental symptoms in a woman,
which is involving either the pituitary gland or thyroid gland related to those hormones that
will cause probable predicaments that could arise into the equation. Another possible cause
brought up by a classic series of House M.D. stated that too much copper in the body
would also certainly cause a woman to have an extent of symptoms similar to the glands I
have presented to be consulted of the issue.

Mom stated that as she deters it, determining how menopause symptoms are indifferent to
these relative last explained cause to such differing ailments to the same result in acted out
behavior in a psychotic mental response.

Mom and I began rattling our talk into what best I could present any rational meaning. I felt
consciously hurt that she opted to refuse to come along with me at any given time when
shopping or doing some form of activity. She said that there's an existing fear and concern
about hitting one of my unsuspecting trigger words or anything similar to set off my
feelings of being emotionally distraught or mad with an upset fluster. That had lastly caused
me to lecture her in an unpleasant, frustrated manner. She reminded me of the last few
incidence where we fought verbally without any decisive order to be met. She didn't want
to get involved with hurting my mental fixation on just what I wanted or thought. She is
backing out of it, and discouraging any consider option to review if she could manage it
through in some way. Yes, it's true that I have sensitivities or soft spots in personal or laxed
conversing when she is rattling her excessive passing thoughts.
I admitted to say that there was since the last three years, an ailment I had, which I
believed has caused me to become irrationally mad about certain things she'd say without
any second thoughts to reason it through clearly. This ailment caused me as I know during
this time, foggy memory and relapsing confusion that resulted in unwanted anger and
emotional sensitivity over nearly everything. I could bare living like that personally, it was
difficult to manage my own mind and eventually body, the painful tension and soreness on
every differing portion of my body. Yes, my mind was blown and out of control, referring to
the behavior that was slightly separate from the body pain. Some people compare those
symptoms with depression or moderate bipolar disorder. Yes, earlier than those more
recent years, I had something like an extreme version of that bipolar illness.
I tried an attempt to verbally talk my way around the fact that this happened to me during
those years, while persuading Mom to think of anything positive to lead to light ahead if
that's even possible. She did say that maybe I had calmed down over the passed few
months for sure, well since how I had felt and behaved accordingly. I really thought the
outcome has been more satisfactory, than fair in her perspective. Like I've mentioned, I
don't feel the same type of throbbing anger or temperament erupting inside my mind and
body as I used to, so I meant to inform that wasn't happening to cause trigger words or
phrases to be a constant issue during our interaction of communicating or doing activities
together. Well, we're still seemingly pulled apart by this persistent force that's last
developed when I began changing in personality against my will of choice or motive.
I nervously felt worried about how Mom seemed personally scared of what risk she thought
there was occurring between us. It's like a conversational conflict that I last had thought
meant she was too blunt or didn't explain herself enough to be understood. That still has
one explanation for me to lose my cool or get mad over it. Mom isn't the smart aleck type,
so why would I actually fear that might slip off her tongue without my mental preparedness
to mindfully process normally. I am supposedly one of those emotionally sensitive people,
but that can't gain over my ability to speak sanely or think indifferently. The ailment I had
brought up was technique PMDD or severe PMS. The hellish symptoms that follow that
condition is unworldly, and no human female deserves to experience that illness. Mom
dictated to me that I should have learnt something from it, therefore only one obvious
element that I had grasped. This element I've learnt was how to overcome it and probably
be cured if that chance ever existed.
She mentioned Liesel's illness of cancel contracting and my ailment's timing of how that
turned out. She as usual is still feeling that her father is still to blame partially for making
her sick and ruining her health possibly. She even questioned her last job she had, but I had
felt there could've been other probable causes that aren't brought out to us, Eckhardts. I
could've sworn she was using medicine to aid in her emotional or physical balance or
rehabilitate herself based on those needs back when she stayed over at our house to spend
the night with Gwen. When her illness is compared at all with mine, it utterly feels like
some offensive judgment to me. It's not worth that limit of a deliberate, comparative
description to my extent of personal connection to it. I felt that Mom somewhat
underestimates how awful the severe PMS was, and how it really was upon my body and
mind. Stereotyping cancer as a certain severity to be bad enough should not be reasonably
comparable with fair expectation of response from how I see it and had felt it in a uniquely,
similar way.

This morning earlier, around 8: 12 A.M, I began talking about my fears of what I would be
making my first speech on in class, and what was ahead. I also, found that lead to another
talk, which was about how I didn't have a bad life, but yet not a real perfect one either. I
guess, if I cut out that PMDD condition of the last five years, it would have been decent. I
also added, that during this time, I still become emotionally crippled by being idle, without
a useful purpose to stay busy, as I am, while in college. Well, that's the way Mom said it.
That was until I mentioned how the recall of my verbal hostile behavior was as Mom
stated, beyond what she could handle. She said, when it was, she didn't know entirely get
why she couldn't handle the issue of my verbal dysfunctioning, but I do.
It's obvious, I was out of control, with how loud my month was, and this erupted as I recall,
suddenly, so therefore, put her in shock, and then, it seem to have gotten more harsh and
intrepid each time I had that happen. The other thing, is that I hit my father's shoulders and
grabbed his arms, becoming physically difficult to manander to the hold in place, or upon
the floor, until I tire my body. I may mention, I literally could not feel any self control of this
issue, either, which sometimes lasted close to an hour or 45 mins. Also, after I've done
some reading on this, found out that autistic people young and adult, called the meltdown,
displays similar drastic symptoms. That these disabled people do it out of internalized fear,
whether then seeking attention, unlike a tantrum.
Possibly it could've been an individual autistic meltdown and mix of the PMDD problem. I
wonder if the severe onset of PMS influenced the autistic disorder through highly disrupted
changes of feminine chemicals, resulting in this type of response. I am already awfully
sensitive to any form of chemicals, that is either put into the body orally, or has already
preexisted within. I still wonder on occasion if there is a known difficulty, about how my
hot temperment can be managed or cooled off. All the anger had built up, over the last ten
years, I had suspected. I am still confused why my parents don't think I have bipolar
symptoms showing that I could actually okay the fairness for that additional diagnosis. That
is utterly what bipolar is, technically, sudden or unexpected, extreme intolerable raging,
and physically abusive actions being observed.
I have once read some years back, describing from an infected person's perspective, how
well known, a bipolar disorder will and can develop near the mid twenties, or sometimes
earlier than that. This can included someone who hasn't revealed such a terrible disorder
prior, which is from a new study of certain people who have been monitored through a
portion of their lives. So, ten percent of my life was been grounded by this factor, and I am
strictly being serious about this concerning established predicament. This is why I
understand, the reason over how Mom couldn't take my screaming and outrageous
behavior. I definitely grasp this, seemingly since the last time that subject had been
mentioned.
A portion of this angry scheme I toppled over my parents with, was refusing to accept the
blame, and the wrong treatment of our favored pet, when it was deliberately true to
chastise me for it. I had physically abused the pet for differ parts of my life and of her life,
when I couldn't perceive of the pet's needs or wants. Extreme hurt and angrish exploded
out of me, due to how I hated admitting this to my parents for such a long time. Now, I will
say that it's true how much debate I ended up lapsing through, seems less emotionally
tragic to say in such a civil steady manner. I assume, as for my age, it doesn't feel the same
as it did, before. The frustration has dulled, and I just want to tell them what I thought the
truth was, instead of how I had looked upon it for so many years. All that anger did down
the road is create resentment, and a formed separation from my Mom to some extent. I
want God to help ease the discomfort of my stressed past, and forgive me of these wrong
doings that I had committed.

I was talking in a very anxious, upset manner to my Mom about my fears of how I thought
she had said about a week ago, that I could be blamed for the honest explanation as to why
the dog was placed upon Grandma, and how in the end, made her sick for about a week or
so, after the dog's passing. I feared that I probably couldn't continue to be tolerable of being
blamed for that after about the last four years at this recent time over that incident. I
already personally, ended up blaming myself about the guilt, because I know how, and why
that lead to happening.

Yes, it bothers my guilt due to how I was the reason the dog was sent to Grandma's
handling, since 2008, if that's a certain considered year to recall. I only remember how the
dog, a senior female, was taking from her old kitchen area, to be what it seemed, have been
whining and dragged out to be placed in the vehicle, and sent to her house. I recall also,
that it was the older while Chevy Impala that always carried her around, to one place to
another. I later, at least three years, that is, found that she, the dog, had a developed
feminine tumors that had to be removed soon after. Three years afterward, she passed
away from fluid build up in her chest and body that choked out her heart. What a terrible
way to die, I'd immediately thaught, but I didn't hardly pick up on these things, because I
didn't understand fully about the nature and reason of behavior in dogs, for any rational
explaination for such a sudden change in her personality that was very adrupt from what I
truly remembered prior of that time when she was fine, long before she turned between ten
and eleven years of age.

Mom said she may not, due to how I expressed such personal worried from concerned
fearfulness that there was a possibility that could cause Mom to blame me for it. I will just
say, it felt hurtful to me, to expect it, in such away. I am certain that I only feel and have felt
just consumed by the soreness of guilt and fear of the suspected consequences of that,
which could still follow. I am aware though, that Grandma is going to be headed to be with
the rest of her family, and in a better, peaceful place with God. That alone, seems to matter
more, than our personal up and down incidents that had happened in the last few years. My
personal regret, of how awfully sad this made Grandmother, when she lost her, and now it
still remains as I am the reason why she ended up on Grandma. That's the honest
explaination why I feel this way, I know I couldn't grasp the understanding for this dog's
adrupt misbehavior that I knew didn't normally always fit her ways, as I last remembered
long after her puppy, and yourh bellowing years.

Yes, I learned over the last several years, to fine tune my ability to overcome such personal
selfishness and noticed anxious blaming of others, of my tactful weaknesses that came from
my inability to cope with it, on my own, during specific times. The others, obviously, in this
case were my parents, of various personal issues that were still a excessive portion of being
my fault, where I had conflicted with finding it hard to admit about. Yes, I felt I had last
become difficult to live with, due to my constant fixations out of persistent anxiety over just
about any personal stressor that consist on my thought patterns, which made me talk so
often all day at time time, and not be able to give myself or others, my parents, any peace
to even think. I just wished this incidental issue is put aside over time, just upon the
moment when this actaully occurs, so that we're not all put into a mental dark place in our
hearts about one another, that is Mom and I. Being so hateful about how my careless selfish
ways had effected my parents, has scratched against my family, which really makes me
wonder if I had been a times, a really bad person, without realizing it.
My Mom was hurt worse then my Father so much, from this, cause since I am so
emotionally close to her, it gets to me if she doesn't grasp all of what i have to express in a
verbal anxious type behavior. She seems to get it the most, as for Father, I am still unsure
why I don't do this so much upon him. I know in my heart, it's inner insecurity and built up
anti-interaction like anxiety that limits my interest, and musters my anxiety disorder's
symptoms. I had gotten tired of being miserable from my emotional relapses of such
overwhelming anxiety attacks that keep bludgeoning my quality of life.

The is why screaming, a high pitch tone that is rough and harsh, is not my definitive
behavior. This was only when I became chemically ill with severe PMS. Having that
uncontrollable primary symptom due to such a painful imbalance that was constantly felt
for literally no other explanation. Many women told me is that anything that contained any
heavy chemical influence over an extensive length of time, such as medication, potent
enough to alter these chemicals.

Tinker, my once trusted doctor, told me not to have high expectations too soon, to prove
that I am over the prognosis of behavior. He also added, since my most recent treatment
he ordered, to regulate more normally than usual, to farther define whether or not there is
an improvement in this area of behavior. Yes, I did and will admit after at least 2016, that
there was some significant improvement the first year afterwards. If you think I have to still
prove anymore of myself, than you are not entirely trusting my doctor’s judgement, as I
had to, with all of what little else to have some hope to express with.

I don’t have anymore persistent sores on my skin, such as locally upon my arms so often,
so a considerable while. I’ve noticed very obvious mood swings, as he said that could take
some certain amount of time to fade, throughout the last couple of years, that were 2016-
2017. The mood changes are fading as long as I quit having doubts from fears that my
internal chemicals has reversed from any proper function, causing such symptoms that
were too severe to be in college or anywhere, to be strongly honest.

You are more accurate than you know, that specific verbal behavior does not fit my historic
nature, nor does my heart lean that way. I am awfully apologetic of how satisfactory I had
turned out, since my doctor’s diagnoses concerning the very hopeful treatment that had
sincere future proposition toward assurance, and progressed certainty. I remember reading
on a lady’s pad info, to urgently avoid caffeine, and a considerably fair stable environment,
during her ordeal and obligation each month. It was some advice from Kotex, back when I
had been dealing with the use of those.

Lets pray that 2018 will be the year that my fluctuations as I have mentioned, which had
occurred in the last couple of recent years, since I had began college, will literally fade
away, and give me complete emotional and mental remission toward relief. I deliberately
base this knowledge from what I had been directed by Tinker’s last interpreted
information. I truly hope this year does prove to be an end upon my struggled
inappropriate emotional, verbal behavior, due to this degrading ailment of the past. That’s
from my doctor’s generous efforts for your sake and mine, with my personal reliance upon
his word.

I tried to make it clear enough as I could, even though I am getting tired, due to how I've
had been lacking metabolism.

Please understand, this is my true resolution, if there is one that correctly fits my needs.

This is what I hoped and prayed for about the last few years, since I had began to be
terribly concerned about this.

We were allowed to speak maybe an hour while we're in that room all day. If you spoke to
one of the staff members when you weren't allowed to there we major punishments. Like:
Not eating lunch in the cafeteria, sitting out in the hall for the rest of the day, loosing
bathroom privileges.
The staff members were cruel and mean. Even though I had been told that there would be
therapeutic activities. The girls spend almost every hour of every day in the day room. No
windows and locked doors. No one was allowed to fold there legs or put there head down.
We went to the gym room once during the time I was there and seldom were allowed to
eat in the cafeteria.
They forced me to stay against my will after i was referred here to speak with a therapist
(No I wasn't suicidal at that time). Peggy Mores, MA lied on my paper work even the REAL
THERAPIST saw the errors on my evaluation forms. She "Peggy" only wrote the negative
things that I said and not the positive things.
We were rarely ever allowed to speak. Even when I was spoken to by a staff member, I was
yelled at for responding. Every day we were shamed for what we had done and blamed for
all of our problems. I heard the staff tell other patients that it was “their fault that their
parents hit them.” Many of us got put on meal or unit restriction for LOOKING in the
general direction of the boys while in the cafeteria.
Not once was I asked by the "doctors" what's wrong? They just assumed I along with all the
other teens were horrible people. There was a 12 year old there that didn't understand that
she had to take her insultion shot but instead of explaining to her why she needed to take
it, a very large man grabbed her up held her in a bear hug then threw her on the ground
and sat on her all while the nurses were standing around her screaming at her.
But they should never assume anything. Locking kids up, not allowing them to speak, not
allowing them to have a voice or to express their feelings is not how to help a person. We
don't all fit in to society's definition of "normal" and just because your child doesn't grow up
be exactly just like you isn't a reason to lock them away.
Don't just assume that because you pay the bills and they are living in your house that they
will turn out exactly how to want them to be.
They tell the parents it's -common for children to lie about such things happening because
they simply don't want to get help- if anyone complains.
We were allowed to speak maybe an hour while we're in that room all day. If you spoke to
one of the staff members when you weren't allowed to there we major punishments. Like:
Not eating lunch in the cafeteria, sitting out in the hall for the rest of the day, loosing
bathroom privileges.
The girls spend almost every hour of every day in the day room. No windows and locked
doors. No one was allowed to fold there legs or put there head down. We went to the gym
room once during the time I was there and seldom were allowed to eat in the cafeteria.

Brooks at all she made me tell why I was there & what happened to me in front of group, or
threatened me I would stay longer.

Intrusive thoughts are associated with OCD. Intrusive thoughts may also occur in flashes,
and often cause significant anxiety when they enter your mind. Intrusive Thoughts are
unwanted thoughts or images that you find distressing and/or disturbing. These unwanted
thoughts are known as obsessions. Intrusive thoughts are thoughts that consistently enter
your mind against your will. They're considered intrusive because you simply cannot get
them out of your mind, and they often pop up at unusual moments. There are numerous
thoughts on this list regarding losing control and acting out violently or sexually.
Unwanted, Intrusive Thoughts. Have you ever stood on the edge of a train platform,
minding your own business, and then, suddenly, out of the blue, for no apparent reason,
had the thought “I could jump in front of the train” or “I could push that guy off the
platform?” A glitch in the brain. It helped me to know it didn't mean I wanted to hurt
someone, in fact it meant quite the opposite I was so sickened by my thoughts I couldn't let
them go.

They can come out of nowhere. Scary thoughts can come in the form of thoughts (“what if I
burn the baby in the bathtub?”) or images (picture the baby falling off the changing table).
Sufferers are tortured by intrusive thoughts spurred by unavoidable triggers, such as things
they have seen on the news or read about in articles online or in newspapers.

I tend to try not to fail from how at the moment of writing this, to process the materialized
talk from what incident happened to me a few years back, as I was definitely not rash about
my state of being in a mental view, whether then a physical one, since that time I had a
significant issue with this last. Yes, I happen to remain stuck in a occasional trance of fear
from those days that wasn't so far away just yet.

I know that I have heard from Mom that I have overly attempted to talk through this, yet
she is painfully ended up being tired and mad at the instance of how I can't get over the
circumstance regardless of what occurred so disruptively in my life during that part of my
growth in my last years when I was still in my late twenties before that concluded into my
thirties. Those years seem to have become loss to this and they I felt at one point didn't
sink in of how much time was compromised by this illness that reeked throughout my
twenties.

My processing could be still working on this misdirection, but I felt it was for restraint
toward the action I was bickering. Somewhat shocking my interest away, or to deter my
thoughts from the idea was the motive. Oh, still I was very mentally, yet not showing, a
mouth dropped open from what I thought she was saying to me at the moment when I first
heard this referenced collage stated.

That hospital was so awfully cold and disrespectful, causing my heart to grip my chest with
pain that isn't easy to express with words.
It's a lasting freak emotion that is faint and difficult to show when I can't hardly think pass
the mistreatment, and shocking lies that was put on me at my parents and my self image
that won't forget the representing issue that may define my reflection in around or near
other people in the rest of my life time while I still recall these circumstances.

I first got upset thinking today during the early afternoon hours that I was frustrated with
how I thought my Mom was laughing at my Dad screaming at me, or any idea of it. I
become highly flustered over that feelings as I thought I had saw her laughing to herself at
my Father later yesterday evening, getting mad at me for dropping a ceramic bowl
pumpkin on the kitchen floor next to the trash can where I was trying to place the wrap
that way around it, into. I later mentioned how I would hardly ever be the first one to start
screaming at my parents, even though they can it could be okay to do that to me if they
thought had been necessary. I find out that my Dad was tense and constantly on edge
because he had been in physical discomfort often due to his lower back and hip pain.

Tonight I thought that I was going crazy and loss my self control during an emotional melt
down while I intentionally held my Mom's hand, and head to her body trying to not allow
her to run me away or prevent me from being able to make me leave her because he
couldn't handle my emotional breakdown that was evident, and less rational if any at all.
My emotional internal pain wouldn't let me be eased to calm down until my Mom had told
me some sense out of any messages that redefine my thought patterns point of thinking. I
was told that I worried indefinitely over my anxieties, and seemed to over analyze the
personal concerns that I believed were true, that turn out not to be so. I told Mom the other
day, that I was feeling better an over the upset tension and triggers that set it off so easily,
but I feel I was overcompensating what turns out to be a lie, or simply not admitted as true.

I shouldn't let my emotions bring me down, fearful of my parents being hurt or in

unnecessary agony that I thought had been my fault from what I had put them through the
pass couple of years. That feeling is too sad to had been struggling through the words of
what I felt was needed, as I had thought I had been to blame for their injuries or any sort,
as that was a stressor, whether they could visualize that or however that's expressed. Yes, it
was just two years ago, but the fracture of the physical body can slowly down down from
that over time. I cried as I rubbed the tears and my face repeatedly feeling the pain throb
into my facial muscles, my cheeks, and forehead. I had felt that I was lastly a burden to
them, not intensionally meant, but it was happening then as a result of the problematic
situation through those particular years.

Also, earlier today, I mentioned how our dog never wanted anyone to yell at her, as I was
told, she hid into a corner or went to her little bed. I knew as well, I remembered how she
would sob and feel depressed, for a dog. That made my heart hurt as well, not aiding me in
how I found difficulty doing the same thing nearly every time someone get mad, or
deliberately corrects while shocking me when doing it. Mom told me it due to not getting
mad or angry at a person who is that way to me, so I am supposed to act to kind, and nice
like a wimp who won't stand for against the possible imperishable wall that person would
be putting up. I, from my past upsetting experiences have made me internally want to go
right trough that person, so they can stop me, or make me cower and retreat. Why does
every nerve from so many years in the past want to bite back?

I was yelling out that I didn't want to stop crying, making word that I couldn't prevent my
teary emotions from dictating me, in front of Mom. She told me not to yell, or it may wake
Dad, so I didn't, yet I found myself distracted, and not crying either. That occurred tonight,
and along with the other part of my meltdown, I couldn't feel it less than a phase that I
couldn't find the ability to control enough to think entirely straight or clearly. The thing that
threw my thoughts across the room was the mention of a therapist or a person to give me
more rehab, which may not be what I should have at this time. Why do I say that? Well,
they over encourage, and address for use of antidepressants and push time to be done in
the behavioral hospital giving them a ton more financial benefits and me, a complete
probable basket case, because I am afraid they'll mess me up most likely, for life. They also
tend to have pulled things on me, and than alarming my Mom as if it were making me an
image of violence, and also threatening.

I kept remarking that I thought my Mom believed from those last years, of me being
verbally threatening and so much of a percentage of being physical, causing her to have
barricaded herself from me in the past, which was the same amount of time ago. He locked
the door in Her's and Dad's bedroom, on me as I once was screaming, and demanding
irrational apologies from her, which now, seems somewhat mean. I was as I look back of
myself of those years, as a bad, and at times, a mean woman. I was once obsessing over my
anxieties that kept my on edge, while actually I was trying to get this treatment for all they,
the doctors, would offer for anyway to resolve my diagnoses of PMDD. It's a build up in my
personal conscience of mounted resentment of the past horrible behavior for that older age
of my late twenties.
Mom said it had been as I was mentioning fairly often in my last papers, that I was
possessed by gripping anxieties that do appear to tell me fibs that aren't all based on truth,
but from fears and what I dread could be from the persistent worries I had been
experiencing. That partly what built into my crying emotional disarrays is the increasing
inner fears of what puts personal terror into my conscience, until I can't define any
difference my fears had repetitively or more intrusively told my thoughts so often, and so
out of place. It causes doubt, questioning until I am literally confused over it, and I later
can't handle it emotionally as it begins to feel too overwhelming to continue to process
mentally. That utterly leads to that meltdown I just had, such a feeling of panic and
insecurity at the same moment, bringing tears, and a storm of internal pain. Last, I've
remembered about it, I felt as if I've suffered from this senselessly, without any
physiological medication to numb, easing the anguishing anxieties ruining any chance of a
stable mind and body, that led into cramps and stomach pains each morning, I wake. I feel
as if the quality of life is struggling, and I failed to commit myself to anyone that will
improve any hope for my ability to progress more effectively through life.

I wished I could stop having these attacks that are fusing from my internal gaping anxieties
that make me feel like I had entered one of many of the darkest places in my conscious. Do
I tend to feel misery from it? Yes, certainly from the persistent, and constant intrusive habit
of my thought patterns that have only messed up what could have been decent days, and
normal rest at night, including less stomach discomfort when I try to find my way in the
morning to wake without soreness. Oh, about soreness, I've had that in other parts of my
body for just no specific meaningful reason. I have observed that I perspire too much in the
mid part of the morning if I stay home, but if I am outside of home, I tend to be just fairly
okay. Do you suspect OCD, as I think it's more like what I had been having, depressive
anxieties that lead to, as I admit, OCD mimicking symptoms.

Will I ever suffice to manage my emotional behavior enough to survive out there in this
world? Nah, I don't feel it's going to be much better without some kind of medical care
from how it appears now from the recent sudden issues that just happened. I can tolerate
over time, having these absurd mood swings that exhibit meltdowns that tend to occur in
from of one of the other parents of mine. Do I ever feel any relief letting out these corrosive
emotions of debilitating tears steered by inner depression? Only temporary as it mostly
been, since the last round of it I've had in the pass years. I can admit again, that those
meltdowns were more accompanied by raging temperament that I could barely control
with most of my inner indepth ability to regain capacity to do so. I am sure that my parents
were probably right to think that I needed more help than, as I was loss in the confinement
of the state that I had been in. That's what a person like me, had to go through to just get
regulated for any improved balance? I don't know if I will ever truly find peace through any
probable relief of this unacceptable emotional relapses that these still may represent.

How my response affects my emotional connectives to the incidents at that duration of life
when things were hurtful, and sad for my recent persisted sobbing that made me feel
shamefulness once I had flashbacks, when recalling those incidents back than.

I am shameful that I have to keep progressing through these gripping heart ache referred
type subjects at my Mom so often. I wished I could find hope to gain for aiding me of
breaking such a unnecessary mislead by emotion enveloped conversing. Talking as if I
can't do no more well than looping my thoughts like a broken record that can't ever find
any closure to be repaired.
Why can't I get over these upsetting memories as it's only letting off unjustified steam over
nothing since it's at the present, non-relevant to my current life circumstances. She utterly
expressed that my words sounded more insane, as if I can't get out of this gaping rut. She
wanted my nerve racketing story to end as soon as there is possible without any argument
that option wasn't wanted by my anxiety over the matters.

Mom wanted me to offer more focus on much more important details of the recent clause
of what's going on in front of me. What she didn't maybe get, is that I was intentionally
feeling unable to resolve my mind to accept that changed responsibility. I began to gripe
and whine like as if I were younger, than my maturity should be over what I need to do for
myself and my goals toward the actual problem, instead of how I thought I perceived it.

This is a useful method to express feelings in such a collateral epoch that it's self
explanatory at certain places in the paper I've purposed my thoughts.

I've had a small issue while trying to say anything else to Mom while she was watching her
TV show this evening.
She told me to go somewhere to occupy my disrupt bored needs. She's like, shew fly! You
could say, Man, I was just adjusting my wings.
Since my petty complaint about the receipt, I thought I had been misinterpreted of
speaking too loudly, whether hollering.
I wasn't intending to, that was actually due to the loud speakers I was only attempting to
speak over to be heard, I thought.

Please select this website to read and farther comprehend what I am trying to express. I
needed to hand this to you earlier today, but it kept failing for unknown reasons. I guess the
idea is that the virus that's going around may have effected the on going poor servers that
had been doing this job ever since. I hope you can grasp my thoughts and words of inner
heart felt truth.

This was written more based on what I had already analyzed enough to figure out about
the recent issue between Mom and I.

I hope arguments aren't a trend any other way farthermore due to how it effected me, and
their relationship involving my behavioral careless words that were ignorant, and
disrespectful to how I used them.

She was suddenly stressed from an incident that occurred the night prior that included a
fallen tree 'Pin Oak', and it's loud crash and damages that had been done there after.

So, surely Mom was too mad to ever hold any conversing or had been patient to say much
to me about my feelings as a result of the constant issues that were arising, which was my
Dad's eye surgeries and care/recovery needs he had, that I dealt with at the similar time.

"I’ve written through the crazy. Cried out the hurt. Analyzed, mapped out, and charted the
rejection-" "To stop eating and breathing guilt and shame and hurt and loneliness."
More Fitting: "I’m sorry for not speaking up when I should have, not being as assertive as I
could have been, not respecting myself enough to know that my self-loathing was being
spilled over onto you."

Described Difficulty with flashbacks and conversations with Mom

THURSDAY, JUNE 15, 2017
Mom and I had a recent comment of conversing about me throwing a tantrum at the
Tanger in the mid point of it, whether than not at all. She said that I'd assume at this time,
but yet not at the beginning, that she may have implied that I was capable still of being
temperamental in an impulsive manner. She didn't seem to realize that I had just said it
wrong in pronunciation of how to way Tanger. I said it as anything other than how the title
of the place is suppose to be correctly worded out.

The 'tan' part of the word threw my mental ability to say it right as it had been intended to
be. As I've said though, The other syllable of the word was the portion I was definitely
saying incorrectly due to how it was said by others based on how they'd pronounced it. I
swore I didn't know any idea of how to speak it's dialect considerably to the title as it
should have been.

Nah, I am not that younger lady who was loosing her mind being out of it and irrational in
behavior which occurred back in late 2008, just months before our moving was completed
to the new house. I agree that I was once in a anguishing state of mind at that time during
that part of that year.

I knew I was enough being constantly on edge, loosing my temper over nearly anything,
especially in public settings which is abnormally inappropriate for my age during that time.
Later over a certain period of time, which was a year or two, I ended up being farther
diagnosed non pronoun of having a situation due to eventual blood test and physical
examinations, that my hormones were the most imbalanced notably in such a severe level
of measure.

That flashback however hit me with the mental bang that caused my saddened state deep
down the rise to a mere surface temporarily, because I still somewhat recall that incident
perceptively as it happened in late 2008 at the Winchester Walmart. What I had mentioned
though, I was so much on edge, it was just no limit however to what had triggered my
collapse of emotions and tantrum that I carelessly threw in that circumstance. My thoughts
were hurt, about one part having to do with the idea of whether mom might feel that I still
have the probability of a high sudden temperament that I could throw with little warning,
like a spoiled brat type child that in my case is also highly troubled in a personal way.
I hoped to have heeled to mom that this behavior has been long curved, since that incident
and circumstance during that specific time. That it is more irrelevant in my nature to just
behave in any insane manner against my persona and known mental improved stability.
After getting back home of finishing our meal at the restaurant, about a couple of hours
later, I found myself worrying about this as I've described. I tried to express my thoughts
again, and she told me to 'get over it', intending possibly to think it through as I had been
attempt to do before I brought that back up to her. She added that she was stating a 'silly'
remark to what unnecessarily to me, didn't need to be said in such a direct candid way. She
added after that, of how she wasn't as serious was it otherwise was, still as I noticed, had
provoked my inner buried anxiety about a related personal topic I've described here. The
other part, of how I tried to mentally analyze what she was saying in a more clearer
reasonable way, she told me that she didn't actually 'care' either way. She just wanted me
to say or properly pronounce the name of the outdoor mall. I felt like a fish that temporarily
fell in her trap of how she speaks to me without expressing an explanation of what she
really means to be saying to be so directly as she does. That's also why it pushed me like in
some other moments, into a state of unwanted confusion and suppressed anxiety flashups.

I recall now, I said Tangit instead of Tanger. Uh, I never expected her to assume I was
saying that I was gonna have or refer to a ‘tan’ trum at that particular locational place. As I
admit, my mind seemed to process as blown, because of her statement. Heck, I sometimes
say things like that or another, wrong without much concern, because I didn’t realize it ever
was a big deal. I get things simply confused, like the titles or name of places or things, even
some people’s names in that similar concept. That’s certain enough for me to surely say
that I need to be told clearly about how someone or something ‘name’ should be said in the
correct proper way. I do know, I shall be better than that at my current age, as that’s a little
embarrassing to not be able to say say certain things right.

This is what I decided to add to explain some more details about the matter, whether I
have or not the recent months after the pass year. I fairly wish that this should be the final
word about my issue and my proper thought of how I shall be over the problem by the end
of this year.

Mom and I conversed about this at the morning breakfast in the food area of the lobby via
the Quality Inn when we were briefly traveling a short trip to Union City, TN. Keep this at
hand, as it means plenty to me at this time.
I had been feeling unease, and filled with sorrow that brought on significant depression
type symptoms at the time. Well, today recently since the day I left that moment in Union
City since that morning I was shocked into what I found out that posed circumstance. I
hope soon, both of us are able to move on after father gets his eyes taken care of, and the
stress of that relieved away.

Every time I look at these type of written papers I've made, I cry inside at the feelings that
wrap these memos.

I am now unsure if menopause or any other hormonal disorder like this would be
considered as comparable, a serious issue. Honestly, I was informed that I could destroy
my family. That may not be intentional, but possible. That's due to my illness, and I can't
seem to ever properly get over it.

I admitted, that I was frightened at the thought of not having my arms clear up or my
weight go back to normal, which was 130 lbs. Yes, I am aware that I feel like going crazy so
much each month, but it seems to be too often, meaning that it's happening more than
working on some sort of a pattern. I just had been freaking out over it, talking like I was
having a break down over the fears of what is occurring inside my body that I can't see.
I have been talking with a shaky behavior from lasting anxiety eating away at my thoughts
and feelings. It causes me to talk 'lecture about lasting subjects for lengthy amounts of time'
per day without finding or resolving to much of any answers. The urge to talk about these
negative nerve bending subjects is for some reason hard to shake or get out of, like I am
stuck in a deep hole trying with all my might to get climb out of.

I also thought this, if the behavioral hospital kept me or got their way, I would have been
somewhat more traumatized by the way they took my rights away, and my will to prevent
their determination of doping me up and sticking me into their mental facility to do who
knows what beyond imagination to me.
I am so decently glad my mom halted them from getting away with doing that much to me,
which was not entirely necessary.
Fact: Know, they even shock you with tasers among other instruments, such as
electrocution of the doors stuns the body, relinquishing that no one patient can escape or
leave.

My talking was an inappropriate response when it became too persistent that it interfered
with mom's attention to what she was watching at the time on her television down stairs.
She said today, that it became more of a fixated lecture that she got tired of hearing about
from me, nearly the next four hours since 7:30 a.m.

🤐 This was recommended, to try shutting up. (>_>)

To us, it's not suppose to be purposed as a bad thing to take certain things seriously. No,
it's not possible for any of us to take anything pass certain specific things of any serious
extend, for that matter. It's based from our individual experiences that taught us to seem to,
over time of our years, to take these certain matters seriously. There had been very
unpleasant consequences various times about issues that weren't taken seriously, since
we've learned the hard way, which caused this factor to become habitual. Usually, just in
the sense of just living our lives normally, we don't, and hardly ever tend to think about any
incident to be taken seriously, for just because for any reason that surely won't lead in the
future tense to something awfully unpleasant.

I've talked about the issue today, during the morning mid hours mostly from 9-10 a.m.
since I had worried so much about it. She told me that the certain incident occurred when
she was stressed and the time was hurtful to her and how I was effected as a result of it.
Mom said she stood out of her parent's way when they were under stress with problems.

Because of the circumstances, I was hurt because of her stress and struggle with where she
was trying to aid me in progression. She said I was so angry, and she couldn't manage my
I'd assume tantram I'd made while refusing to obey. She surely didn't know how to handle
me as a child due to my sudden out burst possibly reasoning cause I was scared of where
she was taking me, and what I was going to face when I got there.
She said I was between nine and years of age, so I didn't really know how to verbally tell
her in any way about why I was upset whatsoever and didn't understand how I was
supposed to act or express the concern of my emotional predicament.
Other children my age would know clearly and quickly how to speak up, and state directly
what their problem was without delay or frustration from failure of communicating
anything. I know my ability to respond was delayed as well along with even thinking about
it first was difficult to analyze. My mental development of those habits for rational and
speech was more like the movement of a snail compared to kids the same age excelling
through every obstacle, and managed passed me like a flying car on a highway.

After I came of a measure of possible explanation, mom told me maybe she could have
maintained me the my room for some length to separate me from the frustration and shock
of feeling as if I were being forced to respond too soon long before my thoughts were
organized determining how I was to calm down about it following the moment of having
been upset previously. My thought is that I didn't feel she could do that, cause she had to
take me very soon to school since it was in the morning around 6 a.m. having been very
early. The thing that settled the upset from fear of the pain she kept upon me was father
who suggested that he didn't like it, and asked it she come up with another method to
resolve the problem. So, thanks to him, it didn't farther continue.

She told me to avoid stress caused by children, she swore that it's nothing more than a
constant struggle that becomes worse than it was before she had them. If I had anxieties
and depression last, and have just been mentally dragged and emotionally disintegrated
from that alone, having kids would only inflame an already erupting fire. My health and
mind could be literally become a victim from that, whether than any personal relief. I am
strongly very structured and organized with everything in place, both where I live and how
I live. I live by a personal system that I'd hate to knock over just for some extra wheel, that
really doesn't have a place in my life with that specific environment. I feel strongly for a
long time, mom knows deep down the explanation of this about the knowledge of my
circumstances that prevent me from wanting or even needing children for any reason.
Certain facts out way the wants I have inside my conscious about the idea of any kids.

When I was younger, I was once relative to the concept of a child in an adult's body. That's
a gargantuan one right there, which is somewhat true. I am highly dependent on almost
everything upon my parents, meaning in reality, I am anything but independent.

You want to know what has been on my thoughts since morning? It's a memory, because I
keep being reminded in some way about someone having their hair pulled because that
person 'child' won't mind or behave. It's mainly concerning a child that doesn't do what he
is told, like me, not listening, whether just being in my world when I am not supposed to be
in a must move situation so that I could get to school on time when I was young. Mom
stated that it reflected on her image of how it is on her when I don't try to get to school on
time. I doubt she ever thought of looking into why I was not trying, which now is very
certain, that I couldn't bear circumstances happening to me at that particular school I was
tending. I honestly had been bullied by students or even mistreated unfairly by teachers
and so called supervisors.

If the opposite was true, they had been good to me at a school that I was tending, then
there wouldn't a reason of my response of not trying to personally feel like I was forced into
that environment. I was going there to be in school to be educated, but I wasn't, due to
poor management, and actions of the staff that I've mentioned. It wasn't always just the
students fault of how they were, who were kids. I know for my age then, I was unable to
express those issues, and how I felt about it. I didn't know how to do that, how to explain
the problems that I was experiencing there. I had an awful lack of maturity enough to know
how to even deal with it, because I was constantly feeling hurt and re-inflicted by the
problems at that school, which caused pain that made me react by not wanting to actually
try to give any interest or desire to keep being sent to that place.

That's why mom as I personally vaguely recall her in a flashback, pulling my hair, pulling
me up off the floor, as it felt as if she yanked me up, to get moving so that she could send
me there anyway. I cried out when she did that, causing me pain that way, and I already
had inner pain I didn't know how to show, as to why I wasn't wanting to go. I felt it all
wasn't just day dreaming, it was fear of more hurt from how I was being wasn't really being
taught, treated, and had been around kids that were disrespectful since I had ever started
that school. Those parts of my childhood still stand out clearly to me regardless of anything
else.

I almost had a shameful tear shedding argument over how I am pestered terribly where my
father literally yells in my 'face' intentionally to prevent me, using this fear tactic, from
dancing with the music that had been accompanying it. He hated how he heard my feet
moving on the ceiling, since I am on the second floor, and that it bothered him utterly out
of his mind. He is trying to hear it, not allowing himself to not pick faults constantly with
me.
I know I told mother about how she tended to since then, watch television after predawn
hours in the early morning such as 2 and 3 a.m. I complained honestly to her just trying to
get a chance to improve my lack of rest at night after bed time hours. I like her, couldn't
sleep as it was, so often. I began aggravated almost every time she did that, and I just
couldn't farther be so understanding due to how it ended up effecting my alertness and
time I arrived at college for class, due as it caused immediate tardiness.

Well, after father heard that from me, he felt I was being mean, and talking to mother of
what to do, personally. It's not to be just plain bossy, it's more of a bigger picture linked
explanation. I had a meaning for my attempt to suggest mainly to her to maybe help me get
some more rest for a few days that I have that early class time I must attend to on the
teacher's schedule with the other students.

So, father yelled at my face, blaming me out of frustration about how I also play my music
and that I usually dance to it as he heard my feet as well. How it did this and that to him, as
I did nothing to him to cause his temperament upon me. I never went to him to do these
things, not even going to his room or speaking to him much after a certain time at night
when I just want to relax, and try to enjoy a decent evening.

I agreed to possibly dancing with some music, maybe, for a least an hour, suggested by
mother. He as I fear, still could continue to treat me like he had been until I burst, go out of
mind, as I can't tolerate constant attitude of being on my case over the sound of either the
music or my feet. Nothing seems to calm or satisfy his nerve to resolving this, decides have
no music, no dancing, and no moment to be myself upstairs. I wished he would stop riding
my case over just anything, usually as he hates my even being as it sounds to me, upstairs
just trying to manage and live, as I hoped sanely.

It's been a form of exercise aiding my serotonin and functioning properly to study and
focus well after dancing as I've described. How it hurts me as he'd been coming at me on
my case with such aggressive measure to prevent me from continuing to do just anything
upstairs. I could swear it may get passed music and foot steps on the ceiling. I didn't realize
that could make him so angry, as I never was trying to do no such thing to bother anyone.
This was suppose to be my own benefit to be able to think straight and rationalize. All my
mind does is fail to process or operate correctly if I hardly ever get enough exercise or end
up sitting around often instead.
I do have a limit to how a person can stand this type of treatment. It's not realistic, had
been once constant nagging to turn down the volume or stop jumping or whether my form
of dance. They, my parents, did spend a fortune on a new carpet. Doesn't that help adsorb
my foot steps with a cushion that once wasn't there before? As for the music, I did close the
door, turned on a fan for air circulation, and surely had a decent control of the volume. One
hour is substantial enough to dance for about that length of time, as the average time is
about forty-five minutes.

I got really mad and upset about how mother didn't follow through from what she said last
Holiday of Xmas about the timed week of college that I must be there and not tardy. I was
today, at least ten minutes from what it should be ahead of the set half hour I was supposed
to be there at.

Mother once again was up late watching Television during the wee hours of the morning
between 3 and 4 a.m. Well, she as I've heard while trying to sleep after being awakened by
it, since I had been before during Xmas time; the TV was turned loud enough to be
bothersome causing personal disturbance of my sleep that early in the morning while I
struggle to gain more sleep for that morning to wake up properly and make that class.

I heard father argue that I was still keep my music too loud while they were watching TV
also, that tended to cause a similar problem, and how my feet cause a banging sound while
I was dancing to it. So many faults about these issued complaints that it became
maddening between us. To quiet the music loudness, I just deleted all my video that I've
stored or saved in the past five years in YouTube, where I kept them handy to listen to
often. Now, no music, no loud noise, no problem to farther continue a arguing complaint
over as I hate being yelled at in the face over matters like this.

I felt shameful with regret of how I yelled at mother while she was outside at that moment,
but it was a behavior I'd swore to prevent from happening anymore. I lost my senses after
father slammed my faults into my face just a moment after he left temporarily. All I got is
guilt now, being blamed as I have them, for not being able to make it on time to class, and
how I struggle in the mornings trying to do so. I was deep down, trying to find the cause of
why I can't sleep well and why I really am not making it to class, causing me to literally
being at least ten minutes tardy. A certain number of tardies and I am counted off as
absent. I feared that even the instructor may not allow me to sign up for his class again to
retake the course.
I shall not go around telling my parents what to do, they kept yelling at me as if I did it
often. As if I go intentionally without any care, stating directly to them that I was bossy
from how I voice my demands on what I want from them. Don't ever go to your parent's
face, and tell them in an unkind tone about how you disapprove their habits of how they
use their belongings, and what it causes upon me not to be able to get enough rest at night,
for instance. I was wanting to tell her why I couldn't sleep whatsoever when I tried, and
how I ended up usually late due to the factor when trying to get to class on time. Loss rest,
felt like zombie just dragging myself out the door, driving to college. You should never
tolerate your child to tell you what to do, even if that child could benefit in a positive way
for the circumstance of the college class scheduled time they expected me there without
delay or fail.

I was farther discussing forever personally about how my parents forbid me from going and
enjoying some time for myself at least once at Disney near our Motel resented Resort. They
swore to the major cost they believed at me about how I would be fatally raped and made
pregnant with little try or effort him, the rapist, to make me that way. The words were that I
would be literally kidnapped from behind and thrown into his bed to sexually abuse, and
impregnating me with without any problems.

That's what was told sternly to me when I was possibly a mid-teen at the time. We didn't
leave the room. I remained there until the next day being shocked by the words being said,
and unable to mentally process that in any measure. I felt that my parents were talking too
irrationally without realizing that I had become more paranoid and frightened of being
outside in the crowds with them anyway after being informed that I was gonna constantly
be in danger of that consequence.

As I aged a few years later, after beginning college, I sat in a chair alone afraid to look at
anyone thinking that I was gonna be hurt by someone who is a man or young male after
young woman, like me in their late teens. That only ended up deteriorating my mind
emotionally making me less social and more of a recluse. I became only aware of how that
made me more self destructive under the stress of constant fear and anxiety of what would
another person do to me without saying a word to my face, just doing the action.

After the last couple of years of my first of college, I utterly quit and began psychiatric
rehab a year afterwards, since our move to MS. I seemed not to improve too much during
that time of treatment in their care and counselling. I later a few years after that, got
medical treatment that was supposed to halt the symptoms of hostility and mania that
happened with extreme mood swings that occasionally cause me to become so depressed
that I had suicidal thoughts. All the time I was in my twenties, I was insane, confused, and
often very angry, and sometimes lusting with psychological hatred with a horrible
temperament.

Eh, I just noticed how all that linked together. So, these incidents in my life make any
sense. One connected event led to another like a ribbon or web of problems building up to
a lasting explosion of maybe I couldn't take it anymore. Like a volcano can't hold the
pressure anymore, it'll finally burst or let loose. So, I am honestly seeing that I am highly
stressed individual from mental mood strained anxiety from several list of triggers that
composed of many hurts and old wounds yet need to be tended to for healing and closure
so I could possibly have a chance to cope.

That’s the only reason that was emotionally strong enough to cause me to erupt deep
inside conscientiously over the stir of this circumstance, to throw the purple Disney book of
the Park away so that it in my mental perception won’t trigger my deliberate frustration
and sadness. I just learned that this book was a souvenir that belonged to mother that came
from Disney. All I thought was this book simply was existent in my life to see only caused
pain meaning, internal pain that isn’t seen, cause it’s not physical, so it’s emotional. She
thought I sounded like I was being selfish and having no respect for her belongings as
usual, thinking it was all mine. Nah, I just answered it. It involves that bigger picture, the
issue that set me off to do the action of getting rid of it. Yes, it seems more desperate by
now. Do I regret it since it didn’t help completely to end my pain about that memory? Yes,
I do feel shameful, even during that time I was doing it, getting of that book not directly
telling my parents of it yet, cause I didn’t want a fight.

I anguished about the Dog that had passed away claiming not to feel resentment when she
died. That alone was a total lie, cause how on earth am I gonna ever accept the personal
circumstances of her passing and why she did with Grandma, and that I never would
visualize it physically. I had a meltdown outrage about the very idea of ever having another
dog to raise regardless of having had the last one and what happened with that specific
dog, and how it effected my life.
Mom claimed I was yelling at her, but I felt I was raising my voice at most, but the subject
matter must've been too piercing for her to hear. I anguish about that subject due to
frustration over other preexisting triggers I can't personally stand up to without emotionally
vanquishing into a high edgy temperament.

Stressors set it off, that subject matter inflates into my thinking because it is like a default
hurting conscience setting from past feelings of overwhelmed sadness that formed later
into debilitating depression.

Fear of one thing, makes other issues in my thinking pattern worse, for instance. The
following subject was discussed quite some time, like day two in the morning and during
the mid part of the second day after Sunday. Oh, just saying, don't assume I had a good life,
as to me, that's a total lie in my conscience heart. Something in me is not happy with that
answer to any judgement of my personal situation.

Minus the dog I had to live with, which was turning out to be a difficult result over time, I
could better cope and recuperate a lot sooner I presume most likely from being mistreated
and hurt enough from outsiders and other ignorant people that I hardly ever thought I had
to personally be involved with or live with what so ever.

Home was a place to be coming peacefully to, not a place of dreaded fear to have to return
towards each day. So asking or telling me so directly that I had a good life is a joke and I'd
never would believe it as true based on how my life honestly ended up going, which is the
worst jagged emotional eruption I can possibly measure that's still to date filled a certain
amount of hurt.

■ Sure there are chances depending whether or not it’s necessary to apply our intelligence
on improving a problem so that it will be handled sooner before it gets worse.

■ We should better ourselves by accepting the issues that are more complicated to do
promptly expecting some form of gratification, because that’s not in specified ways acutely
realistic.
■ Through a varying length of extent involving traumas, personal obstacles, and the
magnitude of problems being faced; there is reason for why we must exceed our
opportunity to farther understand, gain explanation by putting it out there verbally, and find
certainty and answers that will hopefully lead to a lasting solution.

■ The plaque on the wall reinstates this matter by using the word change, which means
similarly the basis of this message; as I won’t read that stricture the same way again.

In reality, I thought it could be my hormones talking through me. My day was not made up
of any food which I've eaten. I went hungry unable to eat because I was too upset inside.
The tension swallows you, it makes you unable to function to do anything to enjoy
something if at all. These symptoms plague your thought patterns making me feel
miserable and doubtful producing fear of what I am worried about that's been buried
overtime.

I felt there's hardly any control in how I felt and how I respond to my thoughts, how these
awful feelings keep me from doing or trying any sort of constructiveness. These thoughts
are always intrusive, ruin a day for not just me, but others such as my parents patience and
angers them into why I'm out of hand, being irrational and not reasoning anything. Do I
hate this about myself?

This handicap, yes, more than not. I could not think any more than mom tried to tell of the
similar issue. I can't think clearly, or find peace near or around any idea for a considerate
answer by anyone. It's like ruthless of a thought attack, a proposed intension to mess up my
mood and my day along with others around me feeling like they're wanting to separate
from it right away to get relief, which is something I want desperately. I feel I am being
grounded so much that I can't escape my fearful anxious thoughts hammering into my head
with avengence.

I had a raging meltdown tonight screaming about the dog we used to own again and clearly
I've yet to ever get passed it. I kept complaining in mental stressed fear 'panic' that I was in
a flashback dealing still with that unknowing unpredictable situation. I claimed to had been
bitten on the hands and feet every other night and day 'mornings' due to the time before I
was sent to college for my day's progress possibly for an adjusted degree. Nights were
more active concerning incidents that were unwanted by the dog including usually on
those weekends. My parents state I was blaming them directly for not handling that dog in
time so that I maybe could've recuperated sooner than I've had since that time otherwise.

I told my mom that she was hated at that unintended previous time when that happened
having to do with how that dog wasn't kept from being so vicious towards me so often in
that house on Meadow Creek. The given lack of instructional discipline and control of that
very situation without any rules of any sort about anything that could've helped relieve of
the issue. I felt that that dog was allowed most of her life to remain keen of that house
meaning nothing was gonna stop the circumstances from dissipating. Left fondly to run
amok everywhere and have no idea likewise to how or why that was so. I've been told this
dog's been very sad and hurt by our raising of it's unfortunately spoiled life of being given
everything regardless of behavior or even also just for the heck of it.

Found it's true she had physical hormone health causing in the few sooner years to be fixed
due to a possible reason of death or anything scary to the owners. I declared I had honestly
kicked, ruthlessly the dog across the floor because she was never disciplined about her
ways on my skin and limbs when she kept previously prior biting me so often without
warning making her a frightening fear and environment terror to be in at one time. I was at
home when this happen, I simply just had enough of her anger and hate upon me or
whatever caused her to keep striking at me with such aggression. I couldn't take it
anymore, she doesn't know she can push a person over the mental edge after I literally had
enough of her hate acts against me at a such constant rate. I knew already that I was
frightened to even enter the home and feel secure or even settled after returning from what
I was trying to achieve at college everyday I tended. I set the problem as most unfair and
the timing of removing her from the premises was horribly timed in a very undesirable
fashion.

I wished though that I could not have to keep reliving this past of my life which already has
been eight years now. She been dead naturally, well of a heart that flooded with fluid type
passing, since the last two years. This factor memory I have by itself seems to curse the
dog's oath upon our family as it still stands I failed to exasperate her existence as any other
kind of dog that lived in my life without so much negative results. I called it a personal
trauma that was distinctive and I wanted not to be forgotten entirely. The reason why I did
act the way I had and why the events occurred as they did. Every other stricken week I
burden mentally torture my parents with my screaming about this unentitled subjective,
because my heart aches over it's incidental effects about the consequences that prevent me
from pressing on pass this fixated problematic anxiety suffused by my intrusive thoughts
that was followed by overwhelming depression leading later into that episode of my raging
fused raving screaming going over the same ground of dog related events that took upon
me personally when she was right there in that house with me several years ago and
blaming not just the dog, but the owners, my parents for the unresolved situation brewing
without censorship.

I recently made a call for the neurologist about what I can do to take care of this mental
delima I have and get immediate help due to screaming over certain overly emotional,
personal, and frustrated stressor topics that triggered my mood anger fluctuation which is
just too much in so many weeks within one month apart. I may suggest to try Prozac, as
I've used that med for a least a couple of the years I've tended my high schooling, which
was my tenth and eleventh grades. I am already confused about whether my issue is
hormonal or mental, I say it's a smash between the mix of both. I wished there were any
answers to quite these ongoing manic episodes that keep pushing the psychological limits
of my parents and wearing them down. That sounds a tiny similar to how it is for kids with
Aspergers who have common behavior like this as of a meltdown orientation, as mine was
called a tantrum, well more like a meltdown, cause it lasted thirty minutes. To heck with
this mania raving outta of control behavior, I need to get this fixed before it extends maybe
and get much worse.

Sincerely _Yours`
~Debby A Eckh.
Memoir/Bibliography
Journal Entries/Diary
Ten Yr Life Real Incidents