Happy Lab Rat

Shame has been on my mind a great deal lately. I am a very fortunate person, with many things and people in my life to feel grateful for, but gratitude eludes me. I try to feel grateful, I do. Sometimes there is a fleeting permeation of peace: reassuring yet elusive as w(h)ell. Shame however is, as they say, another story. Persistent. Shame for intervening too late, shame for an ill-judged intervention, shame in my gelid state of cowardice.

In the news people everywhere are fighting to survive. Our planet is markedly void of peace. I believe in our capacity for goodness, believe that goodness is our default state. We are drawn astray. Our childhood deprivations become our internal stealth guides.  We are not aware. We seek power to assuage powerlessness. Wealth to erase neglect. What was externally toxic claims our self. We become our abuse.

I wonder about my drugs. Wonder if I am further crippling my brain. My brain has the capacity to heal itself. I fear the drugs interfe(a)re. HA, a pun of sorts! I want off. before my desire to want out wins.

My Veteran's Affairs Case Manager has suggested I be "assessed" by an OSI Clinic in Vancouver (OSI - Operational Stress Injury - yeesh, why can't the military just use the words already there, talk about reinventing the wheel). I have agreed to it, maybe there are other things to help, maybe acupuncture? Maybe a couple of short laser blasts into my brain? Lick a socket??? Apparently my GP and Psychologist have decreed I meet the criteria for Long Term Disability. LTD - sadly not a fancy car. I want to feel better, although it is fun being a drama queen - LOOKATMELOOKATME!!!!!

I am happy to be a lab rat. I said I would be part of a study if it meant I could undergo some as yet unsanctioned (ideally controversial - so I can achieve my dream of being a superhero) treatment. But I am (no surprise) afraid. Some of the staff at the clinic were military. I fear being found an imposter. Fear that what is wrong with me is a fundamental, genetically flawed state. A factory second. Defect. Marked down for quick sale.

Oh boy.

Puppy needs outside.