WELCOME TO STANLEY'S BIOGRAPHY
                   (Page 8 of 10)
This page was last updated on: August 16, 2013
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(Continued From page 7)
(The following below covers Age 30 - 30)

      At first, I felt like my whole world had come down around me. I would just cry to the point it hurt. It's hard to describe. With Sandra being the last of 3 people I felt I belonged with, it hurt so much to see the last of them leave to the other side. And I felt so alone.

     So the following day I got a lesson in Funeral laws. Because none of Sandra's family live in California, and because I am listed as her Advance Directive agent, it falls on me to make sure her body is taken care of. But being on disability, I don't have any money. I found just to have her cremated, that it's a average of $1,500.00.

      I was directed to the Coroner's office as I was told about a service that if you don't have income, that a special fund would pay for the cremation. I was told that because I have a car, that I am not able to apply for it. The woman said "Well, you have a car that you can sell for the cremation money". My jaw just dropped.

     So I asked what would happen if I couldn't come up with the money. The woman said that if I didn't come up with the money, that I would be charged with "Abandonment of a Body" and sent to prison for 30 years. Of course I started freaking out. Thankfully Sandra's 97 year old dad who I found just got diagnosed with cancer was able to send the $1,000.00 to Allen and Dahl for the cremation. I will be paying for the $12.00 death certificate.

     Also going on right now, I have to move. When Sandra was alive, the money from my check and Sandra's is enough to cover the rent and everything. Without Sandra here, I can't afford this apartment on my own. So my mom, who I just started talking to again says she has a room open she can rent me. It's a small room, about 8 feet by 10 feet, but it's better than living out of the minivan.

     One thing that's been difficult is trying to sell Sandra's electric wheelchair with the ramp. I am still able to walk so don't really have a use for it, nor do I really have room to store it. So I placed a ad on Craigslist. I did have two offers, but both turned out to be a scam.

     It was hard enough just to take it out and take pictures of it without breaking down crying and having to stop. Giving away or selling her things is kind of like saying "Ok, she's really gone and not coming back". Then to have someone trying to scam me just made me very angry. It's like, a love one just died, and this person wants to scam me out of money. Just makes me angry. And not just once, but a second person tried to scam me.

      So aside from trying to sell the chair for moving money and such, I am also finding it difficult to go through all her things in her room too. But I got it done over a few days. With my biggest worry being "Would she want me to sell this or keep it?" So I set up a garage sale for July 23-24 to try to sell what I really don't have room for in storage and to help come up with money for the moving truck and everything. I am just finding it hard to part with things.

       Strange enough, around this time I had just started working on Sandra's room almost 3 days after she passed. I had a good friend who has the gift of being a psychic medium. Since Sandra's death on the 7th, he had been checking with Sandra's guides to keep me up on her progress.

        He let me know that she did not want to leave me at first. And I can understand that because for years, I had told Sandra that she was the last thing keeping me here. That when she died, that I would be right behind her. I meant that. But when the time came, my guides/angels were working so hard to give me the energy and will to stay.

        I didn't want to stay and be alone. But I told Sandra that I would stay, and for her to go check in at heaven and go do her life review and that I would be here waiting when she came back. And that was so very difficult for me to say. But I knew it was for the greater good.

        What made the time while Sandra was checking in more bearable was having my friend checking on her and letting me know what's going on.

        He says at first, she had to be healed. That she was in a personal void to get healing undisturbed. They she was on a table with a light blue blanket over her. And that there was a light being on each side of her with their hands on her to heal damage from this last lifetime.

         And in her case, and will probably be mine as well, most of the damage was emotional. So since me and Sandra both had a traumatic abusive childhood, I imagine that I will need to have similar healing done. And she spent a little over 2 days getting this healing from the two light beings.

      Then she moved to the area wherever that is, to conduct her Life Review. This from what I understand, is where you go through every moment of your life with your guardian angels and guides and discuss why you did what you did. What you learned from each event and so on.

       I know I try to help as many people as I can so when my time comes to do my life review, I can say I spent my life trying to help others when I can, and that I learned that some of the best feelings of happiness comes from helping someone else. I know my heart and soul soar. Nothing makes me happier.

       So after Sandra completed her life review, she was allowed to return back to earth and visit her friends, loved ones, and me. When I woke up around noon-1pm on the 10th, I felt different. The hurt was gone. I felt better. Why? Because Sandra was back with me.

        For those 3 days she was checking in with Heaven and her guides, I felt like a part of me had been destroyed. And now, with Sandra being able to be with me again, I felt whole again. Thanks to my gift of feeling spirits, I can feel when she is around me. Which right now, is a lot. And for that, I am thankful.

       So when I realized she was back, I contacted me friend. Probably a lot more than normal as I kept having question after question for her. It was now, that I got my first full message from her since her passing. She sent me:

       "I do have a message. One of many I'd like to give him throughout his life. Tell him not to give up. So far in life he has been viewing his experience from a point of less than and not having. Tell him that his life is actually the opposite of that. He knew coming into this life that there would be a great illusion of a void to overcome. But that's because he comes from not only an area of great abundance, but of full richness of life. One self created at that. One of accomplishment. The only way to return to that point in life is to build it. And to build you have to start from scratch from nothing or build on something already created. The void and emptiness and separation was and is necessary to build the proper energetic structures of the Psyche and mind to cause the physical mind to turn inwards in self exploration. This allowed him to increase and return to his spiritual awareness. Without this pain and without these experiences he would not have done that exploration into the self. If he had lead a normal life, he could have still had experiences that allowed him to explore his spiritual and emotional self, but he wouldn't have had the increase in spiritual awareness or a return to a greater consciousness nor be able to help as many people as he has and will help. Also, he can build himself up with things that are already created. Part of this what has been built up in the CE community, and part of this is what Pam, DJ and I have built up for him to use. And as well as his other experiences. He just needs to find a way to conquer his fear. Fear and self love are some of the things everyone in the CE community share. It is one of the things various soul groups work on in collaboration. We tackle the great emotional movements that separates us all from ultimate love. I am doing much better. I don't know that I am quite ready to prank anyone yet like everyone reads about, but I know I will be able to eventually help people better over here. I want to help Stanley come into his own and realize his many purposes in life. It's not an easy one, but the greatest experiences often are the hardest. I love you!"

      This was a great message to have. To hear from Sandra again made me very happy inside. And knowing Sandra, as well as Pam and DJ are around me, I feel my attention can be returned to my mission of helping others. And having Sandra around again, it made getting her room packed and deciding what things of her to sell during the garage sale easier for me to do.

       Also during getting Sandra's cremation done and having to pack up everything to move, SSI decided to do yet another re-evaluation. This time they want details of everything I do. And want a friend or family member to also log details of everything. This whole Coburn things feels never ending.

       It's like, everyone is yelling about wasted money by giving me benefits, but then how much more is being spent for all these different agencies running back to back investigations, sending people out to my house and all this paperwork? And all to find out in the end that my benefits are indeed legit. Now THAT is a waste of money.

      Coburn can order a thousand evaluations, it's not going to change the fact that I still will have PTSD, a spinal injury and my other problems making my disability claim legit. Hell, I wish a few investigations would suddenly make the PTSD, spinal pain and everything else go away. If it worked like that, I would have asked to have all the evaluations done years ago. When I was working security, I was making twice as much as I am getting on disability.

       There is just so much going on at once. I think my best advice to anyone in a similar situation would be to write down everything you have to do along with when it has to be done. Then forget about everything on your list except for the first thing. Then move to the next and so forth. Trying to do everything all at once will only leave you with a headache and most likely too depressed and feeling overwhelmed to get anything done. I am just taking everything one day at a time, or if needed, one minute at a time.

       Still, with all that's going on, my spiritual learning continues. Back when Sandra was going to and from the wound care center getting her stomach wound that got the sepsis infection done, I met one of my guides.

       At the time, I was just reading my book while Sandra was getting worked on. All of a sudden this picture of a woman popped into my head. She was white, looked to be about 30-35 years old, very tall and was wearing a while full length dress and was VERY pretty. I tried to draw her for Sandra when she got out of her appointment, but I don't draw very well.

       So I asked my friend who's a psychic about it. It turns out her name is Elizabeth. She is a very powerful healer. A master. She is extremely skilled with symbolism as well. And multiple healing modalities. It seems I am a very powerful healer as well, and Elizabeth is helping me "remember". She works with me and 3 others and bounces back and forth between us all.

       She first did this almost a year ago. I was coming out of the bathroom and suddenly got the urge to lay my hands on Sandra. Sandra was in a lot of pain and following the urge, I was able to take away her pain. And Sandra letting me heal her, I have gotten much better at not just getting her relief faster, but I have gotten better at how much pain that I can get rid of. And with my gift, I was able to give Sandra relief when not even Morphine could take away the pain in her stomach wound. And again, helping her made me so very happy.

       So I have Elizabeth to thank for helping me develop my gift of healing. And it seems while I sleep, I assist her in healing others while my body sleeps. I can't really say because I do not have any memory of healing others during my sleep time. But it wouldn't surprise me to do such a thing.

       My friend also informed me of the name of yet another guide assigned to me during this lifetime. His name is Richard. I am not sure of his role in what he is assisting me with during this lifetime, but I am happy to get all the help I can get....lol. I just know that I had a past lifetime with him.

       So with it being July 18th, I am still packing up the house for the big move. Getting prices on things that are going to be sold come the 23rd and 24th at the garage sale. And waiting for Sandra's dad's money order for the $1,000.00 for Sandra's cremation. But overall, things are feeling calm.

       Surprisingly, my mother heard about Sandra passing away and came over that same day. She showed up at my door with my brother and his girlfriend. She offered to let me move in with her and they helped pack and move alot of my stuff. My brother had two of his friends come over and help out too. My mother paid for the first month of storage and paid for a U-Haul. I agreed to pay her back.

        By the first of August I got the house empty of what I really wanted and left everything else there. Which wasn't much really. I left Sandra's hospital bed, a twin bed and frame, a air conditioner, two area rugs, some blankets and some undone laundry such as towels and sheets. Not having much room, I just took what blankets and sheets I personally needed and left everything else.

        I was supposed to have more help, but aside from the big items like my bed, the fridge, furniture and such, everything else I had to do on my own. My mother has severe back and shoulder injuries from work but she did as much as she could. A friend from a few doors down came over the last two days before August first and helped me round up the last few things I wanted. And I sold the fridge and the washer and dryer. Otherwise they would have just sat in storage.

         Anyway, I got most of what I wanted set up in the new room at my mothers. It's a 8X10 foot room, so not much could fit in the first place. But I have my bed, my recliner for my back, my computer I have on a trey table, a small bookcase. And against one wall I have my deep freezer since there I only had a small space in the main house fridge. And since I do a lot of cheap frozen stuff to cut down on cost for food each month, I decided to keep the deep freezer in my room too.

       Then in the closet I have my two drawer dresser and have my TV and VCR on top of the dresser, and I have my little file cabinet on the floor next to the dresser. It's tight in here but it's better than sleeping in the minivan. But it's been difficult not having Sandra around. My days just don't seem to have any meaning to them. I just feel like I am simply existing.

        And on August 5th, I had my first therapy session since moving into the room I am renting. That went so so. She wanted to know how I have been feeling and I explained that I have been missing Sandra and how I have been thinking a lot of wishing to end my life.

        Growing up, I have always thought about dying. I was diagnosed with a illness called "Suicidal Ideation". Basically, it means I have frequent thoughts of suicide pop into my head over the course of a day. So I have given thought to how I would do it, what it would be like, who would be effected.....more details than anyone would care to really know.

        And although for a few attempts here and there, I have managed to survive to be 30. As a kid, many of my therapists at school said they couldn't see me making it out of my teens with how bad my diagnosis was. But here I am. But at the same time, I always did have respect for the knowledge that one day, there would be a attempt I wouldn't walk away from.

        Anyway, long story short, I told the therapist that missing Sandra, along with other life issues going on that I was giving more thought to ending my life than normal. She didn't exactly freak as I was expecting, but she did call in a supervisor. The supervisor wanted to call and see about having me admitted.

        I couldn't help but bust out laughing. The supervisor didn't know all the problems I have had with mental health. And that short of cutting my wrists in front of someone from mental health, I have been blocked from getting any help.

        See, there is a voluntary hospital in Chico California called Enloe. I mentioned a few stays there before earlier in this bio. I was banned from every returning because I could never stay more than a few hours before having severe panic attacks brought on by the PTSD and would have to check out and leave. So the 3, and for me the last time I was there, they told me if I left, I could never come back again. So I am not allowed to go back there anymore, not that I would want to.

        Then the County Mental Health in Redding has a voluntary unit. But because this big shot down there, Tod Harris feels that any help I get, I should pay for out of my own pocket, even though I have medical insurance for that, he's got me blocked from being able to go there. He sees the voluntary unit as me getting free therapy without having to pay for it so he blocked me from having access.

        Tod Harris is frankly a real dick on a power trip. He seems to enjoy having the power to choose who gets help and who doesn't based on who HE feels deserves help. He doesn't feel I should get help because he seems me spending my disability money on things that can go for therapy. So whether I am brought into the hospital myself, or involuntary by police or therapists phone call on what's known as a 5150 (3 day involuntary hold), he doesn't care.

        He's several times overturned the 5150 hold, which is not supposed to be possible, ever, and tells me "When you want therapy bad enough, you will find the money". He then signs release paperwork and tells me to go home. Doesn't matter if I am just feeling suicidal or actually done something. I am ALWAYS sent home.

        Tod feels I could pay for therapy if I only spent my monthly check on rent, food, medications and electric and nothing else at all. And then use what's left for therapy. Now tell me, would you be able to handle spending your day with nothing to do but look at the walls? You come home, no TV because you don't have cable, no phone, no internet because that also means you can't have a computer either to even bother hooking up to the internet.

      Just you and 4 walls. What kind of quality of life would that be? Besides the once a week therapy appointment, you would have 6 days and 23 hours a week of nothing to do besides that once a week 50 minute appointment. Tod's remark "Well, if you really wanted therapy, you would be willing to live under those conditions, and since your not, clearly you don't want therapy bad enough".

       So when that supervisor said she would like to have be admitted, I couldn't help but laugh, because it's not possible. But the supervisor tried anyway. But because of a panic attack at just the possibility, and her calling to try to get me admitted bringing up flashbacks of my mom calling hospitals to come get me, I started freaking out and had to leave.

        Once home I was able to meditate some and calm down. But still, no cops came. No phone call from police wanting to know where I was. Just silence. However as time went on, the desire to die I had at therapy continued to grow.

         It's hard to explain in words the feeling. It's like knowing that happiness is right on the other side of dying. That all you have to do to be free to the deep dark depression, the daily spinal pain from the child abuse attack in Van Nuys Psych when I was 16, the daily nightmares and flashbacks of the abuse in the psych hospitals....all of it could be gone if I just took my life.

       Maybe for others, saying no to suicidal thoughts and feels is easy. But for me, it's torture to say no and keep living. Torture choosing to continue life and endure more depression, more spinal pain, more nightmares and flashbacks. I just want peace. And so the battle goes on every day, to die or to live. Locked in a forever battle. And lately, the side wishing to die and have peace is winning. And funny enough, I am not worried about it.

        When Sandra was alive, I fought to tell that side wishing to throw in the towel and die to just be quiet and go away. That I needed to be here for Sandra. That she had no one to go to or move in with if I lost the battle and died. So I did my best to stay. And was there holding her hand when she died. However now with her gone, there is nothing keeping me here.

         And yes, I know that sounds so very cold to my friends, the members here and all. I mean no disrespect. I hope those reading this know that. Me, Pam, Sandra and DJ are what's called a soul family. For those who believe we live one lifetime after another as I do, Me, Pam, Sandra and DJ are a soul family that incarnates together over and over. And at some point during our lives, we find each other. As we did this lifetime. As will happen again the next time around. Which I hope will be so much better than this time around. It's be such a rough ride.

          With Sandra, the last of my soul family on the other side in spirit now, I am all that's left. And I know I came here to do much good and all. And I have. I have helped many people in one way or another. Saved many lives first hand which makes me very happy and proud to have been of service to others.

         But right now I feel my time here may be coming to an end soon. It's just something I feel. I miss Pam, Sandra and DJ and want to be back with them again. I want to be free of the depression. And be free of the nightmares and flashback of the abuse.

          But still the battle to live or to die goes on. And on the night of August 5th 2011 I drove up to the 3rd floor of the Mercy Medical Center parking lot that had a extra level the come out underground making it actually a 4 story fall. I figured head first would do the job. I was about to jump off when a security guard came over.

          He asked me what I was doing and I said I was getting ready to jump off. He asked me if I had anyone there in the hospital. I said no, that Sandra had died last month. He said then, you need to leave or be arrested for trespassing. He didn't care that I wanted to die, he just wanted to make sure I did it somewhere else. So I got in my car and he followed me out the exit and watched me drive down the road.

          So I gave it another go for help and called the Boystown hotline around 1am on August 6th 2011. I don't know what I was expecting talking to someone over the phone who couldn't do anything for me. But I gave it a try anyway.

         Didn't work out. I didn't feel any better. So I called the police dispatcher hoping for one more go at it. I really was looking to feel better. The side of me wanting to live was hoping for that one in a million chance that would turn things around, but nope.

          Around 5am on the morning of August 6th 2011 I called the police dispatcher. The female police dispatcher was very nice to me. We talked for a good 20 minutes. She didn't try to pretend to understand. She actually told me that she doesn't have depression or PTSD and couldn't imagine how hard it is to live with such problems. Which I respected.

         I get a lot of people, and this bothers me, that will come to me and be like "Hey, I know it's hard to have depression and PTSD, but you need to just pick yourself up and just keep going" and so on. Clearly some people have no idea how hard depression is or people wouldn't make such comments.

           However when the police arrived to talk to me that the lady dispatcher sent, it was a totally different story. And is really what fueled the side of me that is ready to leave all the power I needed to go forward with ending my life at the time.

          The first two cops were just listening to me talk about what was going on. Just talking trying to figure something out. However when the 3rd cop came, some K9 unit guy that's given me major attitude in the past made me feel like crap for calling to ask for help for me to live.

           He walks over and is like "you again". He says "When are you going to learn. You know you are wasting our time. There are more important things we can be doing right now than being here talking with you". "You know the ER and mental health are never going to do anything, so why do you keep calling for help. Just do what your going to do and be done with it".

           The cop makes a good argument. Why do I keep calling for help? What help do I really think is going to come from cops who could really care less if I am alive or dead? So that morning I decided to go ahead and over dose on my pain med's. I have never been one for leaving a huge mess like a gun shot to the head. That's not fair to those who have to clean it up.

           And with my pain medication, I will doze off to sleep and later die. Peacefully. And maybe the Redding cops will be happy, no more calls to come "deal" with me. That's what I was thinking in my head at the time.

           And for me, the depression will be done and over with. No more nightmares and flashbacks. And most importantly, and what had me excited was that I was finally leaving and I would get to be with Pam, DJ and Sandra again. I really couldn't wait. But although upset at being told I was a waste of time by some heartless cop, it's what I needed to give me that finale push to do it at the time.

        I was thinking with my suicide would help the K9 cop realize that if you don't care, don't be a cop. And that he shouldn't respond to people in crisis and who are suicidal just looking for help with "stop calling us and just do it". That's just not right. Not that I am doing this to punish or get the K9 cop in trouble or anything. I would have taken my life regardless. He was just the trigger and in my case, I was glad he did say what he did at the time.

       Anger and hurt is what makes it possible for me to actually fully go through with it. And I wanted to make sure there would be no screw up's this time. Unlike in the past, I had no doubts that I was ready to leave this world now. I would just not want the way that K9 cop talked to me, to be said to anyone else.

      So I went home and e-mailed a few friends that I was about to overdose and die, and explained why. I wanted to make sure that friends knew the reason I was dead. Knew what happened. And then I laid down in bed with my soda and a full bottle of my pain pills summoning up the courage to follow through on it.

       However I was so very tired. Being so upset I had not been able to really sleep since I came home from my therapists office that Friday and ended up falling asleep with the pills in hand. I had fully expected to have overdosed and been dead by the time anyone found me.

       But around 4pm or so on August 6th there were police knocking at the front door. My brother came in to wake me up.  I went to the door and found some friends who got my e-mail contacted the cops. So I was asked if I did send the e-mails and was handcuffed. I didn't even have shoes on. So my brothers girlfriend got me some shoes and my black hospital back pack with all the things I would need for a 3 days psych hold and ER visit. The problem was my pain med's were not in the bag.

      So I was walked out to the police car. When we got to the car, that's when this cop started in on me. He says "when are you going to learn to stop having us come out for you. Do you know we have far more important things to do than come out here to deal with you. If your going to kill yourself, don't tell no one and just do it.".

       I told him if mental health did their darn job I would not be going around and around. So he tells me "You know mental health isn't going to do anything, why don't you just move to a different county". Yea, if I could move out of Redding I would. But what I get from SSI barely covers the bills. It would take me several years to have enough to save up for first, last and security deposit for some place. So I just stay where I am and go around and around.

       So he put me in the car. Then went through my back pack. And then I was taken to Mercy Medical Center. Did the blood and urine tests and waited for the crisis worker to come over to the hospital from Mental Health. I asked for pain medication since the officer wouldn't let my brother get my pill bottles. The officer said the hospital would have the medication I take.

       So I asked the doctor at the ER for pain medication. The doctor came back with one Vicodin. Not nearly enough to handle my pain. I take two 5/500 Vicodin, a 10mg Methadone, a 10mg Baclofen and a 10mg Flexeril to manage my pain. A single Vicodin wasn't going to do anything for me. So I had to go the whole ER stay in severe pain. 

        While waiting for someone for mental health to show up my cell phone rings. It's my mom. Apparently my brother called her at work when I got picked up to tell her what happened. She tells me that she can't have the cops coming all the time. That if the cops come often the manager will kick her out of the apartment. And that if the cops come again I can find somewhere else to live. Then we hung up.

        She finally showed up and asked me what was going on. I explained to her that it's just the same thing, that mental health wasn't going to do anything to help and to just overturn the involuntary hold so I could go back home. She tells me she's different and will try to help. So I answered her questions and explained to her what was going on.

          She told me after 45 minutes of explaining all this that I was right. That mental health wasn't going to be able to help me and that she was going to overturn the involuntary hold and send me home. But she comes back a few minutes later and says that she can't release me unless I agree to sign a form that says when I get released that I won't harm or kill myself.

       I explained to her that I am suicidal and I won't sign the form because then I would be lying. She walks away and then comes back 10 minutes later. She tells me she overturned the hold and that I can go home as soon as the doctor gives me the discharge papers and she leaves.

       So yea, I basically told the woman that I was suicidal and would probably attempt suicide later when I got home and they still sent me home. I knew mental health wasn't going to do anything, and that the woman was lying when she said she was different and would help. Clearly not.

      So me and the guard start talking as he heard everything I said. He couldn't believe that I was going to be released. So we began talking about how screwed up the system is when the doctor came in. He asked me if he sent me home if I would kill myself. I told him too right to his face that I was suicidal.

       Told the doctor that I told her the same thing and that she said go home. I told the doctor to just give me my discharge paperwork and I would leave. Instead he walks away with the paperwork to call the woman from mental health and find out why even though I am suicidal why she isn't going to do anything about it but send me home.

      So then the guard that till now had been told to sit there and not let me leave tells me that since the mental health woman released the involuntary hold, he couldn't legally stop me and stood aside as I left. And once outside got a ride home from a friend.

       So about 2 hours after I come home my mom comes home from work. She asks me what's going on. I just explained that it's the same thing as far as the cops and such. She asks me if it has anything to do with Ryan. That was a red flag. I have not talked to her about Ryan or anyone else from that group of friends.

       Then she tells me that I need to just stop bringing the cops around. As if depression can be just turned off. And she tells me that if I am going to kill myself, to at least go out and do it in the car so that when I am dead she can move into the room I am in and that she doesn't want my spirit to be hanging around. Yea, it hurt to hear such a hateful comment.

        At that moment, I was more curious about how she knew about Ryan. So I went to check my e-mail. That's when I found my e-mail open. I know before I laid down prior to the cops coming, I had fully signed out of my e-mail. So either my mom did it, or she had my brother do it.

       It really bothers me that she invaded my privacy and got into my e-mail and was reading private e-mails. It for sure made me angry because I don't do that to my mom or my brother. And I expected to be able to go out and come back without having someone sign into my e-mail and be reading my private messages.

      So the next morning, August 7th I took my bottle of pills and a drink, got in the car and left to find a nice spot to overdose. I got myself some food and parked at the Enterprise Park at the area where I was filmed for the Taboo episode.

       I ate my food and sat with the bottle of pills open getting ready to do the deed. But then a bunch of cars showed up and began setting up for a birthday party. I couldn't do this there now. I couldn't ruin some kids birthday with a dead body. So I left.

       Later I pulled into the parking garage of Shasta Regional Medical Center. The hospital where Sandra died. I opened the pills and began taking them. I was finally ready to leave and was on my way. So I called my therapist to let her know that I was thankful for her trying to help me, told her about the cops and everything that was going on.

        After awhile of talking, she told me if I told her where I was that she would go with me to the ER to make sure I wasn't harmed. So I told her where I was. So we went to the ER where I was stabilized for the overdose. A few hours later she really needed to leave for some personal business but told me to call her and let her know what all happened and she left.

        A few more hours later the hospital social worker came over and told me I was going to be admitted for overdosing at a psych ward. She wanted to know if I would willingly go or if she was going to have to put me in involuntary. That if I went voluntary, I would go to Enloe's low security unit where I would have some freedoms not found in a involuntary unit. Or I would be sent to a involuntary ward if I didn't go willingly.

       I asked if I could at least think about it, and she gave me a half hour. So I talked to my therapist, and then closed my eyes and asked my guides what I should choose. I was going to be in the psych ward either way, it just matted which hospital it would be. So the low security Enloe Behavioral Health hospital in Chico California was the choice.

      I arrived at Enloe Behavioral Health around 8pm the night of August 7th. I was checked in. Had my medication counted. Filled out several pieces of paperwork and did a psych evaluation. Then I was strip searched and my back back was gone through. I wasn't allowed much. I got my diapers, wipes, powder, clothing, 2 books and the clothes I already had on. Everything else was locked up. They also gave me a water bottle with the hospital's name on it.

      I explained to the nurse that I stopped self injury back in December of 2010 and to control the stress and PTSD that I meditate and would really need access to my MP3 player from time to time. She said that night I couldn't have it, but she would let the doctor know and see what he says. I was shown my room and was left for the night being checked every 10-15 minutes being on suicide watch.

      I didn't get much sleep overnight. It was difficult because I have the hospital nightmares of the abuse, and then woke up in the hospital room. It really messed with my mind. I didn't know if I woke up in another hospital dream when I woke up and couldn't tell if I really woke up, or was still in the dream. Messes with your head let me tell you.

     The other issue is, I have been sleeping in a crib for the last 10 years of my life. And to be in a bed with no bars or anything and told to sleep was VERY difficult to sleep. I got all of about 2 hours sleep overnight.       

      At 5am on the morning of the Monday August 8th, I was woken up by the nurse to take my blood pressure, pulse and temp. At 6:00am they would open the patio for those who want to go outside or to smoke.

     Then at 8:15am-9:30 breakfast would be served. Due to being a Empath, I tried to keep to myself as much as possible. The reason is, picking up on people's emotions has always been difficult.

      However those in a psych ward, the emotions are all over the place and often are highly charged. So to avoid picking up on anyone and connecting, I avoided contact with the patients as much as possible. So having my own room really helped.

      However I was at the end of the hall near the ward door. And every time someone went in and out, the door's electro magnet preventing people from escaping, when it would engage there would be this loud "CLICK" when the two magnets connected. The sound always made me jump. Did every single time.

      And was often one of the reasons I didn't get sleep. It would wake me up right away. The reason is, at Van Nuys Psych, the solitary room doors had electromagnetic locks to lock the kids in the solitary rooms. The sound is EXACTLY the same. So yea, not a good sound.

      Being Empathic and came to eating breakfast, and all the meals, I would try to sit as far away from other patients as possible and it wasn't always possible but it tried. The food wasn't too bad as far as hospital food goes. You were able to choose from 4 different choices.

      My problem was caffeine. I had brought some soda with me, but it got locked up. Besides 20 ounces of caffeneated soda at breakfast and 20 ounces of caffenated soda at lunch, your not allowed to have anything else caffinated. I rely on the caffeine to help keep me awake since my pain med's make me tired. Anyway, was annoying to say the least. It was almost 2 days before I got access to my first 20 ounces of soda.

        Meals such as breakfast, lunch and dinner drove me nuts. Many things done in psych wards make me feel like I am in a preschool or something. After you ate your meal, the nurse would come around, pick up everything to see how much you ate and then would write it down in percentages and then say things like "Ah, very good job eating all your breakfast". And in a tone you would say to a child. It just got on my nerves.

       Yea I am AB and love role playing. And being talked to in such a matter is done sometimes. But that's when I am role playing. When I am in adult mode, I talk like an adult and expect to be talked to as an adult. But I was in a psych ward in a place I would never role play in. And so being talked to in such a way would bother me quite a bit.

       So after breakfast is a group they called goals group which they would do while you ate or shortly after. Your asked your goal you wish to work on that day. And then you choose where you mood is based on a scale of 1-10. 10 being the worst you have ever felt and 1 being a very good mood. This goals group drove me up the freaking wall.

       It was done exactly the same as was done at Van Nuys Psych when I was 16 and 17. I never attended the goals group in the past since the longest I ever was at Enloe in the past was 10 hours. Since I was there for the overdose however, I couldn't just leave. So yea, goals group was extremely triggering for me. 

      After breakfast and goals group they do "Process Group" at 9:30-10:15am where they discuss ways of thinking. Such as how you think, influences how you feel and thus influences how you act or behave. They would discuss how to change or challenge your thinking and so on.

       After the process group I got called away to meet with the psychiatrist. I explained to him about my past with depression, what caused the PTSD, about Sandra's passing (without going into the AB stuff), and medications used in the past. He went down the list and I let him know what I have tried.

       I also let him know that for me, instead of anti-depressants giving a uplifting feeling, that they make me extremely tired. Even after the 2 week period they say it takes to start working. So he decided to just leave it up to groups to help with how I was feeling. Basically, he gave up.

     Then from 10:15am-10:30am they would open the patio for those who wanted to go outside or to those who needed to smoke.

      Then from 10:30am-11:15 was "Skills Group". Here they would teach people different ways to challenge their thinking. Like affirmations to tell yourself each morning. For example "I love myself" and such with the thinking that if you say it enough it would feel true for you.

      Then from 11:15am-11:30am they would open the patio again for smokers or people wanting to go outside.

      Then from 11:30am-Noon "Group" ran by a student from somewhere. For example, sometimes it's ran by someone at the hospital, or a guest from somewhere like the local ER would come and talk about a subject.

     Then from Noon-1pm Lunch would be served. And from 1pm-1:45pm the patio would be unlocked and opened again.

      Then from 1:45pm-2:45pm "Occupational Therapy Group" would be done. On this particular day a woman came in with felt hearts where the last inch all the way around was cut into strips. The strips would be tied to a second heart to be tied all the way around to create a pocket which was filled with pillow fluff to make a two color heart pillow. I didn't do it, I just watched. But a female patient didn't want hers when she finished and gave hers to me. Nice of her.

      Then from 2:45pm-3:00pm a snack cart would be wheeled into the dining room with things like tea, coffee (decaf), fruits, pudding and such.

       Then from 3:00pm-4:00pm would be part 2 of Occupational Therapy Group where they would either finish a project, or start a second project.

       Then from 4:00pm-5:00pm was Nursing Education. Not a group for patients there. It was more or less free time for the patients. During this time the nurses would close the nursing station doors and discuss patients.

       Then from 5:00pm-5:30pm the patio would be opened up for smokers or to just go outside.

       Then from 5:30pm-6:00pm is dinner.

       Then from 6:15pm-7:30pm is visiting time for those who are able to get to the hospital to visit with family. I never had anyone come as no one I knew was local to the hospital. So I often used the time to call friends.

        Then from 7:30pm-8:00pm is "Closure Group". It's basically a evening "Goals Group". They would ask each patient if they were able to meet their goal for the day and then how they felt on the 1-10 scale.

         Then at 8:00pm the patio is opened. And during this time I met with the medical doctor. He wanted to change my pain meds, he wanted me to go through all kinds of testing over my back and for the bed wetting. A lot of it I have already done. And my pain med's finally work.

          I basically told him that I wasn't there to go through yet more tests about my back and bed wetting. That's what I have my regular medical doctor for. I told the doctor there that all I was worried about there was being helped for the mental health stuff. That's all I cared about at the time. So in the end, the doctor decided to leave the medical stuff for my regular doctor.

         Then from 8:00pm-8:30pm they bring out the snack cart again. And also I was able to get a hold of Elisa and talk to her. Discussed what all happened and she helped get the message out to a few on the CE blog to call and help give support via phone while I was in there.

         Then at 10:00pm they close the patio and turn down the ward lights for the night and everyone had to go to their rooms.

         That's basically the typical day on this particular psych ward. The only thing that changed was the topics of the groups and the meals. But the time table is the same thing every day. No change. I guess it's needed for those who really need a routine. But for me it was yet another thing to drive me nuts. And of course the constant flashbacks being tripped off every few moments by being in such a environment.

      Again I didn't sleep well overnight. To cope with the nightmares and ended up self injuring. Which both felt good, but also made me angry because I had worked so hard to stop self injury and now was back to using it again. I was waiting for the doctor to approve my MP3 player which helps me meditate. The permission just didn't come soon enough. And yea, even in the environment of a psych ward, there are still ways to harm yourself.

       I was woken up at 5am on Tuesday July 9th and did the normal blood pressure, pulse and temp. It's now Tuesday and was a bit bothered that I had not heard from my therapist. And later I would find out that she did call, but none of the staff told me.

       So then had breakfast and got my first 20 ounce of Diet Pepsi. The caffeine was really helping to level off the headache I had from lack of caffeine. And did the goals group.

       After the goals group, the doctor met with me and let me know that the MP3 player had been cleared. But that I couldn't use it during groups and overnight. So during those times of group and overnight, I could understand. I was just grateful to have access to it. And was able to do my meditation and clearing thing. Wasn't the best as I can do at home, but it was enough.

        The only difference with the groups this day was the groups gave out packets that had positive messages to tell yourself and such. And for the OT group, the first half everyone made cardboard boxes and began painting them. And for the second half everyone finished the boxes and a guest local guitar player. I missed all but about 10 minutes of the group. I was really keeping to myself in my room trying to keep control.

         Toward the end of the day, the psychiatrist came into my room. He says he was concerned that it was the Ritalin that was keeping me from sleeping and wasn't the nightmares as I tried to tell him it was. The guy just wasn't hearing me.

        So he wanted to change my Ritalin from 5mg 4 times a day, to 10mg in the morning, and 10mg in the afternoon. Thankfully he left it alone as the Ritalin has nothing to do with my lack of sleep. I can actually fall asleep pretty easy. It's getting woken up several times per night by the nightmares.

         Woke up on Wednesday August 10th for the 5am nurse to check my blood pressure, pulse and temp. Got about 2 hours sleep. And ended up self injuring twice overnight. The staff was not pleased that I had self injured.

        The nurse told me she couldn't have me self injuring. I tried to explain that with the environment, if I didn't do something to manage the anxiety and fear, that something bad could happen. And I refused to put people at risk of being injured, and I didn't want to get hurt either.

        Even though it was a low security ward, there was still a desk in the nurses station with a big bright yellow "RESTRAINTS" sign on the drawer and I didn't want to see them. So if that meant that I needed to self injure to keep control, I was going to do it. I would have liked to use the MP3 player, but I just couldn't get access to it as often as I needed. But it did help when I could use it.

         The nurse wanted me to contract that I wouldn't hurt myself for at least a hour. Sounded reasonable since I had just self injured, and normally I am fine for a hour or two afterward. So I agreed to her request. When she came back later for another contract, I had to decline as the urge to re-self injure was becoming a problem. And that's just the problem with it.

         When you do it, you feel good and because that good feelings dissipates over time, you have to keep self injuring to maintain that feeling. And because you build up tolerance, if your cutting, you have to make more cuts than you did before to get the same response. It's a horrible cycle and it really bothers me that I am going to have to fight this again to stop.

          And as I expected, I had to self injure to maintain control. The nurse got angry. Hey, I tried to warn her of the situation, she didn't listen to how serious I was. Hospitals scare the hell out of me, and unless I did something to control the anxiety and fear, I would have lost control, and broken down doors to get outside before I would have been able to calm down.

         That's property damage. staff getting hurt trying to stop me, and me getting hurt both from trying to take down doors, and having staff grabbing all over me. People would have gotten hurt. So keeping as much control over my fear and anxiety was the most important thing. And I don't think the staff realized the danger they would be in if I lost control.

         My nurse finding out about the self injuring just after noon, she told the charge nurse. Personally, I was expecting the charge nurse to take it up a level. I was expecting her to start threatening. Shockingly, she didn't. She just wanted to see what I did, and she left. But not before telling me that although I could use the MP3 player yesterday, that I no longer was allowed to use it anymore and that it would be locked up. That didn't sit well with me. Now instead of having the self injury only when the MP3 player and meditation wasn't enough, I had to rely solely on the self injury.

        I was really starting to feel that if I continued to stay for much longer, I didn't know if I would be able to avoid a major problem. So I told the nurse to let the doctor know that I really want to go home sooner and why. She said she would let him know.

        So around 3pm the nurse said because I keep self injuring, the nurse is going to have to be checking on me more often (about every 5-10 minutes), and that I no longer was allowed to have my door closed. That made things even more difficult. Closing the door, I was able to at least isolate myself as much as possible from the triggering noises of the unit. Especially that stupid electromagnet. I was so tired of jumping every time that lock engaged. Was driving me nuts. And I really didn't see how having my door open was supposed to stop the self injury. And it didn't.

         I self injured about a hour and a half later after the charge nurse left. I was losing control fast. But I did make it to the 4:30pm-5:25pm group. They had a guest speaker from the local ER. The ER doctor came in and was explaining about the different names of anti-depressants, why there are so many name brands. Why so many are so similar but with a different name. How they work. How long they take to work. And why sometimes after finding one that works for you, that 15-20 years later it suddenly stops working. And also covered Ritalin and how it works. Overall, the information was informative.

        He also talked about Thorazine and Haldol. Two tranquilizer medications that were often used in psych hospitals in the 80's and 90's. When I was in Van Nuys Psych, they used Thorazine all the time. If you got upset they would drug you with it. If you acted out, they drugged you. If you are put in solitary room or in restraints they would inject you with it. Because of all the use on me in my teens, I built up a strong resistance to it.

        And Haldol I got a taste of when I have my mental break down in 2002. I was injected with the Haldol when I was put in restraints as punishment by this one staff member because I wouldn't do a strip search by him because he had told me he was gay in the past, and didn't feel comfortable being naked in front of him. I had offered to wait calmly in the holding area until shift change, or to get another staff member. He said I could either do the strip search or be put in restraints.

        Now he said he couldn't find anyone else, but yet when I was put in restraints he magically found 3 other guys. It wasn't needed, I didn't fight them and wasn't violent. He just wanted to punish me. So when injected with the Haldol, I saw things for over 8 hours. It's mentioned in more detail earlier in my bio. So anyway, that was part of what was talked about with the ER doctor during the group.
          
      Had my dinner after the group with the ER doctor. And around 7:30pm another nurse came around to ask me about the self injuring. I spoke to him about why I needed to self injure, and that I really needed to be released and sent home. That it was taking all I had to maintain control. Not to mention, I had been there all this time and wasn't feeling any better. I still was wanting to take my life to be back with Pam, DJ and Sandra. But having contact with Elisa was really helping me cope for the moment.

        The doctor came in and wanted to talk to me. He couldn't understand why I was so close to Sandra when we were not a couple. Turns out by my second day, the nurses had figured out who I was. And soon it was all over the nurses that I was the same Stanley from the Taboo show. And the doctor had just heard and came to talk to me about it.

        I tried to describe to him the situation. I explained it as simply as I could. Explained about the show, the relationship around me and Sandra and why her death has effected me the way it has. And explained how the role playing helps. And that it's also difficult to sleep in the bed when I have not slept in a bed in 10 years. My bed has been a crib for the last 10 years. He didn't really have a easy time understanding. But he tried, so I will give him credit there. I am sure I am most likely his first patient that's into this.

        At 8:45pm I was able to get a hold of my friend Tabitha. She lived a few doors down from me when I lived on the other side of Redding. Gave her my washer for her and her husband helping me pack up last minute when a few others who said they would help didn't show.

        So thankfully they can in a pinch and giving them my washer that would have just sat in storage was the least I could do. So we have been friends for some time and she was helping me cope with being in the psych ward. She was upset that I overdosed, which was expected. So we talked until the phones were shut off that evening. And then went to lay down for the night.

        Got about another 3 hours before the 5am nurse woke me up on Thursday August 11. She did the normal blood pressure, pulse and temp. And then on with the day. I was getting so angry for a few reasons. One, is that I love going out of body. And with how I was feeling, I was trying hard to go out of body, even just for a little while. Just as I got close the lady in the room next to me started screaming and slammed her door causing me to jump and lose my concentration.

        The other problem was that every time I woke up from a hospital nightmare to find myself still in the hospital, it would make me so angry. I can't even tell you. When I woke up the last time that morning, I was hoping to wake up at home with Sandra out in the living room. Not a good morning.

        Has my breakfast and my morning pain med's and again told the nurse to please let me know when the doctor got on the unit so I could speak to him about leaving the hospital as soon as possible.

         I was skipping all the groups that day. I just couldn't take it anymore. I was self injuring almost hourly to maintain control. And finally a little before noon the doctor finally called me. We had a lot to talk about.

          He said although that he was going to let me go home, that he wanted to share his thoughts with me. He told me that he heard I had been self injuring a lot. He told me that he thinks the reason I was self injuring was to get the nurses to give me the same attention Pam or Sandra gave.

         Ummm, yes the nurses were poking their heads into my room more often due to the suicide watch. But it wasn't like the nurses were coming in and changing my diapers or bottle feeding me or something. So I wasn't sure how he saw the nurses checking on me as being the same as them babying me. It wasn't even close.

         Nor would I want to role play in the psych ward. For me, role playing is something I use to deal with the abuse from the psych ward. So to do role playing in the psych ward would associate being AB with the psych ward. Not a good thing. Which is why I also don't bring my stuffed dog Puppy with me. I don't want him associated with the psych ward either. But I just listened to his thoughts anyway, and we parted ways after he said what he said.

          While the paperwork was being filled out I went to go grab a diaper change. And that's when I found 3 separate diaper rashes. I thought I had just had a itch or something. I didn't expect to find 3 large diaper rashes. Which is why I hate being in the hospitals.

          Due to the situation, I have to change my diaper standing up in the bathroom and when I diaper myself like that, I don't get to powder each area like I can when I am laying down. So over the days I was in the psych hospital, some area's such as my right and left hips got neglected and formed diaper rashes. So it was yet another reason why I was happy to be going home so I could get the rashes treated.

        So around noon, I ate my lunch, my last meal there. Went to my room and packed up my things. And then signed discharge paperwork. Although the nurse was very concerned. During my time there, the feelings of suicide didn't go away. And it says on the discharge paperwork that I was being discharged still suicidal. So she felt I shouldn't be going home suicidal, but it was what it was. So at 1:15pm I was released and headed on my way home.

       Once back in town, I got me changed into a fresh and diaper creamed diaper and settled and sat down to check my e-mail. What did I find? My internet explorer was open and my history tab was open. Either my mom or brother was back on my computer reading my e-mails again. I was angry. Twice now my privacy had been violated.

       Then I get a call from my mom. My brother called her at work to let her know I was home. She calls and asks me "So your home from your little vacation?". Vacation? Being in those hospitals is a living nightmare. In every sense of the word. Imagine your worst nightmare, but your in it for days, unable to wake up. It's torture.

       So the next day (Friday), before I went to see my therapist I changed all my passwords and security questions for my e-mail, and now have a windows password for my computer that no one would ever figure out now. Have no had a problem with my e-mail being read now. It just bothers me because I shouldn't have to do that. I never had to do that with Sandra. But then again, my family seems to have problems with privacy.

      So I had my first therapy session since being home, it went all right. But apparently my therapist got in trouble for getting involved with the overdose. Her boss wanted her to call the police on me and stay out of it. But she decided to get involved anyway. And I can say that had she not, I wouldn't be alive.

      Because had it been the cops, the most they would have done, if anything, was take me to the ER and I would have been released by mental health and then finished the overdose, that is if I wasn't dead already. So the only reason I am still here because of my therapist going above and beyond for me.
       
       But things are just not getting any better. It's difficult to put into words. But overnight (August 16th) I had a very bad night. I was missing Sandra very bad. Feeling like with Pam, Sandra and DJ on the other side, I feel very alone. Sort of like feeling abandoned. I found myself in tears begging my guardian angels to let me come home (to heaven). I just can't describe how alone I am feeling right now.

       I have basically just been going day by day. And when that isn't working, hour by hour. Some things are improving. I continue to see my gifts getting stronger. My therapists husband invited me to join him in chanting. Couldn't hurt, and in the end, ended up being a interesting experience. Although I wasn't really into the chanting part, I did find meditating in the environment a new experience. There were 5 others there at the time. As they chanted I could see this dome of light over everyone glowing yellow and white. I could feel the energy. It's was quite the experience.

       I also found that my empathic skills have improved as well. My therapists husband brought along his wife's beads for me to use. As I held them in my hands, I was picking up a impression from them. I was picking up on her emotions. I was feeling emotions of intense worry or concern. I knew it wasn't me. I wasn't concerned or worried about anything. So I knew I was empathing her.

      So when I saw my therapist again, I had to ask her about it, and it was dead on. At the time, she was very worried about someone's safety. I was sad to hear that someone might not be safe, but also excited because that was the first time I made a connection to someone through a object. So overall, it was a pretty cool experience. And I got to learn yet another way to connect to someone. Which was pretty cool I feel.

       My living situation has also improved. The room I was in was 8X10. The size of a jail cell. And since my room is basically my apartment, after a TV, bed (for my back), computer, recliner (also for my back) and my deep freezer as there isn't much room in the house fridge there was only room to walk into the room, to my chair and to my bed. It was VERY cramped and was causing my depression to get worse.

      So when the chance to move into the larger room presented itself, I jumped at the chance. The extra room is about 10X12 feet and thus gives me a more open area for role playing. Something I had yet to do since I got here. In the smaller room, I had to leave my front crib rail totally off because there was no room to be able to get in and out with it on. In the larger room, I have the room needed to have it on again so it's nice to have all my rails on again.

      One of my personal issues is since I came here, I have been unable to go out of body for some reason. I get close and right to the edge of the process, but then I lose it and wake up. Normally I go out of body 2-3 times a week or more. It's one of my many escapes and I love every moment of it.

     And I love it because every time I come back I feel so refreshed and my body feels energized. I just plain feel great. So I have been trying every time I get the chance. The wonderful feeling is too good to give up trying to do. I think it's stress related why I have been having problems getting out of body.

     I also got another surprise this week. A woman wrote me who is a big fan of the Taboo show. She saw the episode I was in and asked me if I would sign a picture of me in the high chair from the episode as a birthday gift for a friend. I have to admit that at first, I thought it was a joke. I never saw myself anywhere near important enough to be asked for me to sign a picture. I wonder if the others in the episode got this much attention for their part in the show.

     Anyway, the picture came on September 1st along with a $15.00 gift card for Target. It was very nice of her. And it comes in handy right now as I am still getting my budget straight and still don't have the $91.00 dollars I need to register my car this October. So I am still sweating that.

        And I had a hard night last night (September 2nd). I was writing a friend who asked how I have been doing. Trying to give me support which I am thankful for. But while writing him about missing Sandra, I had to cut my e-mail short because I was crying too hard to see what I was typing.

       So I ended my e-mail and went to bed early. It takes a lot of energy out of me when I get that emotional. I guess I still have a lot of stuffed emotions I still need to deal with reguarding Sandra's passing. Growing up, I always stuffed my emotions deep down to avoid being a blubbering idiot.

       And I also was doing it for protection. Many of my abusers, if they saw something they did upset me, they would do it again and again. So keeping my emotions under control was something I did to survive. But since tearing down that emotional wall, I come to tears much easier than I used to. As was the case last night just doing a simple e-mail.

        On September 4th I got a message from Sandra as well as Pam and DJ. Although, not all of the message was what I wanted to hear. The message from Sandra, Pam and DJ was:

         They (in unison) want you to know why they had to leave. It was because their Soul Contract with you (and others in physical form) had been fulfilled. For you, they were meant to let you know what family feels like...what unconditional love feels like (as you mentioned). It sounds cruel that they should leave you after providing that, but it was for the purpose of allowing you to summon that same feeling within yourself. As they put it, "We gave you all the tools you need, now it is time for you to use them". They also want you to know they will be there every step of the way and have been since their crossing over. They want you to know that if you try to exit early, they will use all of their influence over you and others to prevent that from happening. They say you are more evolved and stronger than you can imagine. Others in Spirit whom I've channeled have said this same thing to their "listeners" and they say this to you as well....that if you could see in yourself what they see, you'd be in awe. Your highest purpose from their exit forward is to self nurture...to find love of self. They say you are so giving when you put your mind to it. They say they have nothing further to say except "We love you!". 

       Of course I had to thank my friend for passing along the channeled message. Although the message said things I didn't really want to hear, I was happy to at least hear from them. Their comment about preventing me from ending my life does explain several things. Such as why my past attempts failed one way or another.

       With the overdose, I didn't give it much thought at the time, but even though I knew exactly what to do, I felt as if I was fighting for control against someone else in my body. It's difficult to explain. But that wasn't the only weird thing about that day. Normally mental health comes and does their little interview at the ER and never does anything and just sends me home. However this time, after being stablized I was hospitalized for those 5 days. That never happens.

       And the hospital experience itself didn't even feel the same. Normally when I am in the hospitals, I am lucky if I can stand being in there for more than a few hours. But during this stay I felt I was surrounded by love. Every time I felt myself starting to freak out, a wave of calming energy would come washing over me and I could calm back down.

       Hearing this new message, things that happened that day, and the 5 days in the psychiatric hospital now makes sense. I am just happy to hear from Sandra, Pam and DJ. Even if parts of the message were not what I want to hear.

       I was also happy to have a dream with DJ a few days later. I never knew he was a Back To The Future fan. I wish I had known because I loved the series. Finally got em on tape a few months ago. In the dream, me and DJ were in the time machine doing stunts for a Back To The Future 4. It included scenes where we drove off the side of a freeway interchange. It was scary as hell doing it, but when we landed the rush was incredible. All in all, it was a lot of fun. When I woke up, I had to thank him for the fun time. I always loved the time we spent hanging out. And even in spirit, the time we spend is still a lot of fun. So that was a great start to that day. :)

        The man my mom was seeing while her and John were broken up was alright at first. But then it was impacting me that he was eating my food. I only have $90.00 to $100.00 a month for food, that's it. So him eating my food wasn't cool. He didn't ask. But when approached about it, he says he was going to replace it. He never did. In the end, she asked him to leave since her and John were working things out and getting back together. I am sorry the guy was upset and feeling used, but from what I saw, it was going both ways between them. They both were getting something from each other. But in the end, I always knew her and John would patch things up. And that's fine.

        On my end, since John pays his way, starting in October my rent drops from $260.00 down to $208.00 and the electric drops from $50.00 down to $25.00. That really helps because I have my registration due in October so having a bit more money to make sure everything is paid will take a lot of worry off me. And in the future, will give me a bit more food budget which is nice.

        I did get a interesting offer from the Steve Wilko's show. It's funny because me and Sandra watch it all the time. So in my e-mail was a offer. They wanted to invite me on the show to confront someone who may have hurt me for being a AB. Well, I don't really have anyone to confront over that. Aside from some name calling and such, I have not had anyone like attack me or something over it. I don't count that idiot Coburn who just wanted to get his name in the press. I just feel bad that Sandra's last 3 months on earth were spent worrying if she was going to have a place to live when she got out of the hospital.

        I have been watching Steve Wilko's show for a long time. I always liked that he really would make abusers accountable. He would get up in their face and demand a explanation. And unlike the victims, it was nice seeing the abuser back up and become afraid or uncomfortable. I have to admit, I did often wonder what it would be like to confront the staff at the schools who hurt me, or the psych ward staff. But in the end, I knew that wasn't going to happen. I would never get that chance. But I thought about it sure.

       In the end, the offer was nice and I learned a few things I didn't know about the show. Each person who goes on the show get's $500.00 as well as a makeover, and paid hotel, airfare and food. I figured they would cover food, hotel and airfare. I didn't know they did makeovers and pay the guests $500.00. Guess I have a lot to learn about TV. I always wondered why some of the people would want to bring certain issues on national TV. I can understand confronting a abuser or something. But stuff like Jerry Springer type guests, why would you want that on the TV?

       And I know "But you went on Taboo". True, but I didn't go on the show to get anything out of it. When me and Sandra did the show, we did it for the greater good. First, to address many common myths about the AB/DL community. And secondly, we did it to help those who feel like they might be sick or disturbed because they like to relax at night in a diaper, to let them know there is nothing wrong with it. They are not hurting themselves or others. And of all the things to be into to relax, slapping on a diaper and drinking a baby bottle of milk is harmless. I mean hey, we give both to actual babies. If it wasn't safe, we sure wouldn't be giving it to actual babies.

         Since the show, I have been written by many people thanking me for going out there and setting the facts straight. But also found many were AB or DL but didn't know that there were groups for it online and were so happy to know they could make friends with others out there who are into it as well.

         It makes sense, how can you know something is out there if no one tells you. Many of use just happened to do a search for "diapers" or "Adult who like to wear diapers" and then you start seeing the listings. But what about people out there who are not into computers that well and don't know to look? Those were the people I wanted to reach, to let them know they were not alone. And that's so important, to connect with others.

       So although my site was mentioned, I didn't do the show for anything but wanting to help others. And me and Sandra were prepared to give up our privacy if that meant helping even one person, and we beat that goal into the ground. So trouble from Coburn aside, it was worth it to be able to be of help to others. That's what's important in the end. And that was worth going on National TV for.

       But in the case of Steve Wilko's, I didn't see any good coming out of it since none of my abusers could be brought to appear on the show. And since I wasn't abused or attacked for being a AB, I didn't really qualify for what they were looking for anyway. I know there are some out there who have been hurt over them being AB, I am just not one of them.

        On September 11th it was both a good and a sad day. I felt so sad for those who lost their friends and loved ones in all the attacks. But also sad for all those who felt so afraid, not just for their loved ones safety, but also for their own. I know that morning I had just got up and put the TV on. My first thought was that it was one of those made for TV movies. I was even commenting on what I thought were good stunts and special effects until I realized this "movie" was really a living nightmare. My heart just sank when I realized this was all real.

     As with the mamorial, I such mixed feelings. I was glad I had no family or friends hurt in the attacks, however I felt so awful that anyone would want to take part in killing thousands of innocent people. These people did nothing to anyone. These people were not just killed, but slaughtered because they had no defense. They couldn't shoot back or even run away. Not that even being able to have defended themselves would have made such a attack any less brutal. I don't know, it just seems far worse than any terrorist attack I have seen or heard about before.

        When they showed the memorial, I was so moved. To have the fountains in the foot prints of the twin towers was a great idea. I don't think I would have wanted to see new buildings in those spots. So I think a fountain was a good idea. And to have their loved ones names on the hand rails of the two fountains I think was the best idea. I feel it gives a real meaning to "Never Forget".

        With all the names on their, no one will or can forget now. But it also gives loved ones a place to go each year instead of just a pit. The 9/11 museum I felt was a nice touch too. People can have all the facts on what happened. But it was for sure bitter sweet the event today. I hope many found some closure with what's been done with the space and the respect paid to those who lost their lives that day.

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