If I get to tell the young kids thirty years from now about how I spent the Pandemic and Great Reset, I’m so going all George Patton inspiration speech the day before D Day on this shit. I hope you find the humor in it.
I will be able to tell my hypothetical grandkids that, “Well, your grandpappy survived the pandemic and the Great Reset of the 2010s and 2020s without getting so much as a sniffle. I was also a part of a resistance to the rising tides of authoritarianism that was rampant among his family, neighbors, and friends in Red State America. I actually convinced a few of the insanity of their ways and got them freed of the MAGA cult.”
“Grandpa also ran errands for disabled shut in neighbors while making a small profit on Robin Hood with my stimulus money. I was a fan of Wall Street bets and a Diamond Hands crazy son of a bitch named Roaring Kitty. I was a small part of the Apes and Wall Street bets and Dumb Money who helped bring down a few shady hedge fund managers and made themselves a few bucks in the process. Nothing like using the free market itself to punish the worst abusers of said free market.”
“Grandpa also survived heart failure, lost over170 pounds, moved out of rural Nebraska (yes, Grandpa was part of the ‘rural flight’ migration to urban areas) to the greener pastures and red dirt of Oklahoma City. I had some really cool friends, and actually started turning a profit with his crazy son of a bitch mad man rants.”
I won’t have to say, “Well, your granddaddy pissed away a golden opportunity to reinvent himself during the covid pandemic and Great Reset.”
Obviously, it’s not as cool as surviving the Dust Bowl and bringing down fascists and tyrants in Nazi Germany and Imperialist Japan. But I guess it’ll have to do for us “middle children of history.”
This week has been more frustrating than usual. Physically I’m doing well enough that I don’t need as many otc pain pills anymore. I sleep in my bed most nights. I’m getting more mobile. My swelling is almost gone. I never thought I’d be thrilled to be able to comfortably wear pants all day again.
So, what’s the problem you may ask. With my newfound renewed health, continuing mental stability, etc., I’m also finding I’m having a healthier desire for my freedom and independence again. In short, I’m outgrowing living in my parents’ guest wing.
I guess it was only a matter of time before this happened. I outgrew the long-term care facility in Nebraska I checked myself into back in May 2022 after only eight months.
But in those eight months, I lost over 90 pounds, got my wheelchair, got my heart issues stabilized, graduated physical therapy, had a few nurses and staff members flirt with me, and lost most of my fear of death. Not many people in their early 40s can claim they no longer have much fear of death.
Now, I love my parents. I appreciate the fact they let me live with them here in the suburbs of Oklahoma City for the last year while I got my Medicaid transferred across state lines more than words can say.
But now that things have stabilized, my wheelchair is officially paid off, and my finances are back in order, I think I’m hearing the siren cry of desiring my independence again. I guess I’m like the wounded bird whose been nursed back to health desiring to fly again or the domestic wolf hearing the call of the wild and knowing deep down that’s where he truly belongs.
I’m still on the waiting list for low-income housing in Oklahoma City. I’ve been disqualified from slightly over half of their complexes because I’m not a senior citizen. One place would have taken me except they can’t accommodate my needs (wheelchair, handicap accessible, ideally ground floor, etc.).
I’m starting to feel the old frustrations again, like I felt in the final couple months in long term care and when I was fighting my heart failure alone back in Nebraska during the pandemic. It is a frustrating feeling to know I’m doing my job but I’m not making as much progress as I could because others keep dropping the ball.
As far as going to long term care, I probably would have never had to done that in the first place had I been able to buy a wheelchair back in 2019. That’s when my mobility issues begin. My doctors in Nebraska knew I had mobility problems; my apartment complex knew I had serious mobility issues. Hell, even my family knew I had serious issues.
No one offered to help. Since I made less than 1000 dollars a month from all sources, I couldn’t afford a wheelchair on my own. Hell, I thought you needed a prescription to even buy own with your own money a few years ago. Damn gate keepers.
All it would have taken was a wheelchair heavy duty enough to support me. I could have made many of my doctors’ appointments with a wheelchair as we had handicap accessible public transit buses in my old hometown. Yet, no one bothered to listen to my problems. Hell, I’ve even had friends tell me I’m lucky to be on disability and not have to work. With friends like that, who needs enemies?
During the pandemic, I looked at wheelchairs on Amazon. Probably could have afforded one with my stimulus money. But supply chain problems were a serious issue back in those days. Hell, sometimes I couldn’t even get sanitizing wipes, masks, or even ground beef.
2020 was only four years ago, yet it seems like most people purposely block 2020 and 2021 out. I think our entire world has a collective case of PTSD from the covid pandemic and still hasn’t come to terms with millions of people dying from covid and life in general being completely disrupted. Now that we got wars going on all over the world, add those to the mix.
After a few years of struggles, I’m mostly recovered. The only thing I need now is a handicap accessible apartment. That’s the last hurdle. Even though my parents’ house has no stairs, it’s not handicap accessible. All the doors and hallways are too narrow. And my parents absolutely love to have little Knick knacks all over the house as decorations. Personally, I think of them as clutter that looks grotesque. But, since my name is not on the house’s deed, I get no say in things like that.
If I sound frosty, it’s because I’ve been overcoming challenges for a few years now and not seeing any acknowledgement from anyone who could make the last mile of the journey possible. When I first moved down to Oklahoma in February 2023, I was assured I’d have my own place by the end of summer. Here it is one year later, I’m still waiting. Hell, I wasn’t told the process of moving my Medicaid to Oklahoma wouldn’t start until I moved down here until after Christmas 2022. I guess I’ve had to fight for every square inch of ground I’ve gained in the last few years.
It upsets me that I’ve lost over 170 pounds since February 2020, got my mobility issues solved via a wheelchair, got my heart failure treated, been more stable mentally the last four years than most years (haven’t been to a mental hospital since 2013), graduated physical therapy, survived a pandemic without getting sick even once, found out I have an insane talent for picking the stock market, found Medium, and am now getting paid every month for my writings, etc., and I still don’t get much for credit for my accomplishments. Certainly not from anyone who can make my final hurdle of getting my own place possible.
God bless Robinhood, Stash, Coinbase, Wall Street Bets, etc. I love all you crazy bastards. You guys made it possible for millions of not rich people like me to make a few bucks in this worldwide game we call globalized capitalism. By the way, Dumb Money is one of my favorite movies from last year. I liked only Barbie and Oppenheimer even more. Didn’t get in on Game Stop personally but made a couple hundred bucks off Dogecoin before it went sour.
While I am proud for all I’ve accomplished and discovered in the last four or five years, it is frustrating that the people I was forced to trust on these changes haven’t been much help. Throw in a pandemic and hateful politics on top, the last five years have been one hell of an odyssey. No matter, I suppose. All of it, and I mean all of it, is now fair game for my writing.
I can say this now, but I’m actually glad I was fought every inch of the way and still wound up victorious. The bastards may have wanted me to fail and fall through the cracks, but I didn’t. Makes the achievements and the victories all the sweeter in that the people who said they would help more often than not just made shit worse and were blocking the way. No matter. I overcame despite their ineptitude, interference, and general all-around cluelessness. What can I say, on a long enough time scale you can’t keep a good person down.
I have a lot of problems with paranoia and anxiety, especially around other people. I tend to read too much into people’s gestures, facial expressions, tone of voice, body language, choice of words, physical movements, etc. I can also sense the energy of an entire place, whether it’s positive vibes, negative vibes, indifferent, non threatening, etc.
I have vivid dreams, usually about my past and being lost. I also have dreams about conflict, war, the supernatural, and being in different bodies but with my mind.
I want to spend most of my time alone. Sounds are very overwhelming, especially chatter on tv, power tools, getting stuck in traffic.
Romance is impossible. I can’t read exactly what a woman is thinking. I have zero stomach for drama and conflict. I don’t believe that conflict makes relationships stronger. Never have. The few times I was intimate with my long-term girlfriend many years ago, I was just guessing at what she liked, didn’t like, etc. I read too much into unspoken cues to where I pick up several possibilities. It’s like picking up several different tv shows and static on the same channel all at once.
I was diagnosed at age 20 but started having serious problems at age 17. I decided at an early age I would never have children. I feared I would be too chaotic to be a good father and husband.
I also feel all emotions very deeply, including positive emotions. When I am happy, I’m playful and almost euphoric. When I am angry with someone, it is best I avoid them until the feeling is passed. When I get into arguments, I personalize my insults. Meaning, that I intentionally hit them in sensitive subjects and use their exact words against them, even if it was something they said several years ago.
In addition to schizophrenia, I have excellent long-term memory and am quite smart. I scored in the 130s on an IQ test as a kid. I was reading 11th grade level in 4th grade. It was easier making friends with older kids than kids my age. Even my only really good dating relationship was with a woman who was 2 years older than me.
Speaking of my ex-girlfriend, she said I shown her more passion and intensity in the eight months we were together than any other relationship she ever had, including her now failed marriage. I think she misses the passion and romance. I won’t get back with her because I don’t desire marriage and she lives hundreds of miles away.
I’ve found I tend to obsess about topics I take an interest in. I can spend months on end studying topics like investing, geopolitics, history, tech advances, science, astronomy, history of religion, philosophy, poetry, etc. This is too the point I even buy decorations for my house along with what I study. It’s why I own a pirate flag, a flag of Ancient Rome, the Knights Templar, silver coins featuring Aztec art, etc. I’ve also read many of the classics of literature, both Western and Eastern.
What exactly does schizophrenia mean? I experience everything mentally very deeply, both negative and positive. It’s why I live most of my life in my head. The outside world is often too overwhelming when coupled with what’s already going on in my very active mind.
One of my friends just got out of the hospital for seizure treatments.
A friend of mine just got back home from the hospital. She has epilepsy and her seizures are back with a vengeance. First time in several years she’s had seizures. She’s had to miss some work over the last week because of this. On top of that, her husband was recently laid off from his job because his employer lost several key contracts.
I myself am doing well. My swelling is going down. My rashes are all but gone. I’m still getting most of my sleep in the midafternoons. I’m up pretty late most nights. But late nights are good for writing and editing.
Been making a few extra bucks here and there. In addition to writing on Medium, I’m also filling out online surveys. I mean, if internet companies already have my information, I just as well get paid for some of it.
I’m losing weight again. Even though I love cooking for myself, I’ve found that I almost always eat less when someone else is doing my cooking. I’ve found out the hard way that food is my major addiction. I’m far less apt to go back for seconds when I’m not doing the cooking.
Mentally I’m still feeling well. Haven’t had any serious mental issue since last June. I’m even to where I haven’t had auditory hallucinations in several months.
My auditory hallucinations were usually of footsteps in the hallway, inaudible voices I couldn’t see, etc. Fortunately, never had any visual hallucinations. And my auditory hallucinations were always worse during times of great stress and anxiety.
I’ve also not suffering paranoia nearly as much. I used to have paranoia issues for many years. I was often paranoid about getting evicted from my apartment. I was paranoid about upsetting my neighbors. I was paranoid that strangers were watching me at all times. I had paranoias about people listening in on my phone conversations and going through my garbage. I even had paranoias about strangers reading my online bank statements.
Since I now live in the burbs with my elderly family, I really have no fear of being evicted now. First time in ages that I’m fearful of being one bad day away from the streets or prison. And my family is arraigning that, after my elderly parents die, the house will become mine.
Social Security Disability allows recipients of disability pension (like me) to own their own home. Yet, at the same time, they won’t allow recipients to have more the 2,000 dollars in bank savings at any given time. $2000 isn’t enough to cover car repairs, buy most new appliances, or even cover property taxes in some places. In short, Social Security Disability rules on assets for recipients are woefully outdated.
Me. February 2024
Other updates include that, after my parents die, my brother has said he will take over as my Medical Power of Attorney if that is my desire. My brother and I have made amends for the way we were growing up. I guess 23 years of marriage, a career, raising children, and becoming a pillar of the community will change anyone. In my brother’s case, it changed him for the better.
I’m losing weight again. My meals are usually quite simple. Even though I love to cook for myself, my mother usually volunteers to make our meals. I’ve found that if I let others do my cooking, I’m less apt to make massive portions or ask for seconds.
My edema is getting back under control. I’ve been having bad swelling from water retention, mostly in my groin and hips. The swelling was bad enough it made walking difficult. Shortly after I solve the problems of joint pains in my knees and ankles, the edema causes swelling to where I can barely walk. Just another problem to solve.
Been on Lasix for over five weeks to treat the swelling. It definitely works. Doctor has also put me on strict fluid restrictions. Which I would have probably done on my own as it was getting irritating having to go to the bathroom many times a day just from peeing off the existing fluid plus what I was putting in on a daily basis.
My blood work is good. I’m not diabetic. My blood pressure is good. My cholesterol and other readings are excellent. Right now, the big goal is to get rid of the edema and restrengthen my heart.
I quit sleeping in the recliner all night. I still nap in it, but my best sleep comes from sleeping in a traditional bed. My back pain is pretty much as solved as it’s going to get. If I can sit on the side of the bed for a few minutes before I have to get up, I have few problems. I have zero problems if I can get to my walker easily and use it to get down the hall to my “office.”
Me. December 2019
I currently live in a three bedroom, two bath, house in the suburbs of Oklahoma City. I live with my parents, both of whom are in their seventies. I now pay rent as my Social Security Disability Insurance payments have FINALLY settled into something predictable. It feels good to be able to make budgets again.
My financial situation wasn’t the most stable between May 2022 and September 2023. In May 2022, I went to a long-term care facility (at my request). I knew I had far more troubles with my physical health than I could manage on my own, especially since I was also paranoid about getting evicted from my apartment.
The years 2019 to mid 2022 were very stressful for me. And the pandemic made things far worse even though I never caught covid. I treated that time the same way I would have had I gotten sent to war.
Going back to the long term care facility, I had the very long term goal that I was eventually going to get my heart problems straightened out, get my mobility problems treated, and eventually move to Oklahoma City area with the rest of my family. Long story short, my brother came to Oklahoma for engineering school, loved OKC so much he not only never left, but talked the rest of our household to move down here with him, his wife, and their four children.
When I first moved to long term care, I thought it would take at least two years to get my heart and mobility straightened out. I wanted to eventually move to Oklahoma to be with the rest of my family. I remember one of the speakers at my high school graduation back in 1999 saying something like ‘be kind to your relatives. You’ll probably need them more than you can now realize when you get older.
Well, my two years of recovery turned out to need only eight months. It took a couple months to get the heart meds and mobility problems solved. Once the heart was solved, I started physical rehab to rebuild my heart.
I was officially scheduled to do physical therapy three times a week for four months. In addition to my regular therapy, I would go into the therapy room to lift weights and ride recumbent bikes on the weekends. The facility I lived in was a long-term care facility, hospital, physical therapy office, assisted living, all under one roof.
Me. January 2022. Last Day of Physical Therapy
It was also enough of a laid-back place that the nurses didn’t mind me wheeling myself outside to the flower gardens a few times per week as long as I told a nurse where I was going. I even had one of my neighbors in long term care, a 98-year-old retired farmer, who joked that I was ‘faster in a wheelchair than most people on two good feet.’ The staff always celebrated our gains in physical therapy, especially mine.
The food at the facility was good, but the portions were limited. Those limited portions allowed me to lose 90 pounds in those eight months. When I left that facility in February 2023, I was the lightest I had been in ten years. And I was eating homemade staples like turkey and dressing, potato soup, sausages, eggs and bacon, biscuits and gravy, etc. Heck, the staff even allowed me to use their vending machine so I could buy soda pops and Gatorade for myself (as long as I paid for it myself). Few things felt as good as an orange Gatorade after a long physical rehab session.
Obviously, I could have never had this kind of 180-degree recovery without being on Social Security Disability and not wound-up bankrupt. Some may think I abused the system to get healthier, but I wasn’t ready to give up just yet. Abused the system? Well, I certainly got more creative than most people in my position would have been.
I had to be crazy to think that going to long term care with the idea of getting well enough and moving to Oklahoma City with the rest of my family was a good idea. But, good ideas are often crazy until they are proven to actually work.
I realized that in the process of taking care of my mental health, I wrecked my physical health. Now that I have my mental health taken care of, I just was well going for getting the physical health back. I just couldn’t allow myself to die wondering ‘what if.’ Sure, the odds were against me, but I couldn’t honorably face my death without knowing that I tried even desperate measures to save my physical health. Turns out, my gamble is starting to pay off. I pulled off my master plan, and in less time than I thought it would take. Hell yes, I am proud of myself for pulling this off.
Hi! my name is Sebastian (You can call me Seb!) ...welcome to my Blog. I'm a photographer from Worcester, Worcestershire, England. Thanks for dropping by! I hope you enjoy my work.
Hi there, thank you for checking out my blog page where I write about Bipolar, adhd,bpd and ptsd which I struggle with daily. This blog is to both educate and give others hope. I also write about my drug addiction in hopes of giving other people encouragment and hope for a brighter, annd better future.Thank you. sincerly, Emily Thorn.
A Life Of Mental Illness 