(Page 9 of 10)
This page was last updated on: April 8, 2022

(Continued From page 8)
(The following below covers age Age 30 - 31)

       On the home front, it seems things were short living with my mom and John. Things only lasted a few days before they wished to part ways again. So on September 14th, John packed his things and left for the open road again. I just hope one day they can both find ways to be happy. It's not good for either of them to break up and get back together over and over again. Me personally, I just try to stay out of it as best I can. And that's probably best for me to stay out of it. 

       Some exciting news for me came the night before John left, September 13th. It was about 3am or so. I was laying in bed relaxing working myself into a deep meditation so I could go out of body. Something I have been fighting with since Sandra died. Apparently my guides (asked through friends who channel) say it's my grief blocking me. So I am working on trying to release the grief. 

       So anyway, I am laying in bed. Johns asleep and the only noise is the soft noise of my fan by my bed. Just very quiet. I have been able to pick up soft voices for about the last 4-5 years. It's almost like having the radio on but just loud enough to hear voices but not loud enough to make out words. But every once in awhile I can make out a word here, a word there. Most often, I hear my name called "Stanley". I got used to it.

       But this night was different. I had been listening to the chatter while working on my breathing and meditation when I heard my name called again. Jokingly I said "Yes?". I didn't expect to hear anything back from past experience. But today I heard "Your channeling!". My eyes opened in shock of what I just heard. It wasn't garbled, it was clear as day. In shock, all I could think of to say was "Your serious?" LOL. I was too excited to lay back down right away.

      According to my friends who channel my guides for me, it was legit. I did hear correctly and it was real. I have had many gifts come online over the years. It seems as I master each one, a new one presents itself and I am guided on how to use it. I never imagined any of my gifts would ever be channeling. So that's pretty awesome. I look forward to a day when I can ask my guides questions myself in real time. And maybe even be able to talk with Pam, DJ, and Sandra again. That will indeed be a great day. I have been pretty excited at the possibilities. 

       I am always welcome to practice with my gifts, and in this case it would be my gift of being empathic on October 10th 2011. A good friend with a history of bed wetting shared a scary incident. Well, scary to me. He was 9 years old and his mom's new boyfriend didn't like that he wet the bed. He threatened to have him wring out his peed sheets into a pot that would then be heated on the stove and he would be forced to drink it. 

       Well this one morning the boyfriend decided to follow through on his threat. That morning the boyfriend got him up, made him wring out his sheets into a pot and he began heating the pot on the stove and was about to make him drink it when thankfully his mom walked in on him, saw what was going on and kicked the man out of the house. 

       He said he found out that the boyfriend had told one of his brothers that he was going to follow through on the threat, and so his brother told his mom. So that morning his mom pretended to be asleep. She wasn't sure what she heard was real. Sadly it was.

       For me however, being empathic, I connected to my friend. I felt this knot in the pit of my stomach mixed with fear. Like you know something bad is about to happen and your just waiting for the instance it does. As with many connections lately, I got visuals and saw what took place. 

       I saw this man. He looked to be about 40 something years old. He got my friend up, told him to get his sheets and to start wringing them out into this pot. While he was doing it, hands shaking, I see this man just standing over him. Finally when no more pee can drip out this man took the pot and placed it on the front burner left hand side of the gas stove range in the kitchen. My friend was told to sit at the kitchen table while the pee was warmed up. Just as the man felt it was warm enough to place in a cup for him to drink, his mom thankfully walked in asking what was going on. Seeing the pot she realized what she was told was true. She told him to get out. Once he left, she dumped out the pot. That's all I saw. 

       Just seeing it was difficult for me. Child abuse in any form makes me very angry. I have tons of patients, don't get me wrong. But for child abuse I have no patients what so ever and is one of few things that I am quick to anger over. I have zero tolerance for it. And to see this happen to my friend, and at the time a defenseless child, it broke my heart. I could feel his fear wondering just how far the boyfriend was going to take it, and if he would in fact be forced to drink the pee. 

       I just don't get where people like this man get these idea's for this sick crap. I mean, did this guy just wake up one morning "Gee, I think I am going to make my girlfriend's son drink pee from his wet sheets to teach him to stop wetting the bed"? It's one of the worst punishments I have heard come up with for a bed wetting child. And I just don't understand where these people come up with these idea's. Because I couldn't imagine thinking up something like that. It's beyond cruel. Not to mention totally unsanitary. 

       And then there is the fact that he's punishing a child for a wetting problem they have no control over. No amount of punishing would make the wetting stop. Not because it's not a bad enough punishment, but because even if their life depended on it, they couldn't just stop wetting. He had a small bladder and it was something he would have to wait to grow out of. That just takes time. 

      What made me more upset was that my friend told me he shared what happened to him with his son. That's when his son decided to tell him that something similar was done to him. He had no idea anything happened to his son over his son's bed wetting by their mom's step dad. Him and his son's mom had divorced and his mom remarried as I understand it. And I know I normally name names and such, but in this case, I wish to keep names private considering what happened. I still find that knott in the pit of my stomach when I think of what I saw done to my friend though. It just makes me so angry. People need to keep their hands of kids! 

       On October 20th 2011 I began getting the second wave of letters. I was finally cleared of SSI fraud in August, but the news papers didn't begin running the story of me being cleared until a few days ago. Yesterday some letters came in, but today, the 22nd I had over 100 e-mails. Some where nice and very touching. But sadly most were letters telling me to use my SSI money to rent a fun and shoot myself to end my life to save the government some money. 

       People telling me they are happy that "Fat Sandra" was dead so they didn't have to keep paying tax dollars for her to continue living. People saying they are angry that she got health insurance for the last 3 months of her life spent in the hospital while she was trying to survive the Sepsis infection and 3 heart attacks. Just some VERY cold hearted letters. I'm human like everyone else and have feelings that can be hurt like anyone else. So I was a pretty bad mess last night into this morning. 

       However, my day did improve toward that same evening. I found my gift of empathing continues to grow stronger. I was talking with my friend. The one who's step dad tried to make him drink the pee. Well he was telling me about his son's friend. He was telling me his son's friend's home life was not very good. About 20-30 seconds I heard the word "divorced". So I asked him if his son's friend's parents were divorced. He said yes, but they continue to live together. I was in shock. 

       Normally the emotions and visuals I pick up on comes after awhile. I have never gotten information like that in real time. It really surprised me. I don't know how strong my gift will get, but I know it's getting pretty good. Each confirmation of information just really helps me to have more faith that what I am picking up on is correct. So yea, it was a good event in a day started with hurt, anger and depression. 

       On October 21st 2011 I decided to give another radio host a interview about the whole AB/SSI thing to try to help people to better understand the full story behind the whole SSI/Coburn situation. So this was for News Talk 97.3 up in Washington State. The host was Dori Monson. 

        He was respectful to me, I will say that. After hanging up, as I did with the last radio interview, I turned up the online feed. Then after what I have to say he says he didn't feel my abuse wasn't really all that bad to warrant me getting SSI benefits. I only got to talk about my dad hitting me drunk and the one incident in Tobinworld school where I was nearly suffocated to death on my first day there. 

       He really only gave me the chance to talk about 2 out of nearly 20 years of abuse. I honestly didn't feel I had time to get into everything. Of course those 2 out of everything incidents doesn't sound like much. It just bothers me when people don't tell the whole story. I know it's radio and all, but if your going to do a whole story, tell all the details about something or don't bring it up. He asked why I was on SSI, what happened to me. If you don't have time to talk about everything, don't cut me off after just two incidents and then later say that all I had time to talk about wasn't that bad. 

       I try to stick with my personal goal to treat everyone with a fresh slate and not hold something one person did to me dictate how I treat someone else. So I give this guy the interview and again my story is twisted. But yet I keep giving people chances and keep regretting it later. I think I have finally reached that point where I no longer wish to bother trying to explain anything on radio shows. Not only is it a waste of my time and energy, but it's always twisted in some way. 

       Things improved again on October 30th 2011. The day before a good friend who has been helping me learn how to use my gift of channeling sent me a question to try to channel on. In the past, information has come random. My friend's question was the first time I had ever tried to channel on the spot. His question was if he should stick with the job he has or move to a different job where he could make more money. 

       I asked the question out loud and got a reply within a few moments. What I got was that he should continue working at the job he has, even though it's not the kind of money he would like to be making because the job he currently has gives him the chance to help a lot of people, and that makes him happier than tons of money. 

       I e-mailed him the response. I really wasn't expecting to be on target or anything for my first try. Imagine my surprise when he wrote back saying that his guides had given him the exact same response. My jaw hit the floor. I was in total shock. I knew I would get information from time to time about things. I had no idea I was a medium. 

        I'm still very new to this, but apparently I can channel on the spot. Talk about a shock to the system. But at the same time, I was very excited. I found it VERY cool. I know it's going to take a long time to train up to anything good or dependable. But even at the starter level I am at now, it's hella cool I have to say. 

        And I know it's still extremely early to tell, but if I can get to the point where my gift is constantly reliable, I might be able to turn this into a way to make income and finally get off of SSI. I don't want to be like charging hundreds or something. But maybe like $25.00 - $50.00 per session or something like that. 

        I really like the way that woman does it on this new show on TLC called "Long Island Medium". She does sessions to pay the bills, but also gives people messages in the store, walking down the street, hair stylist and so on, whenever there is a spirit wanting her to pass along a message which she does for free.

         So if I ever get to a level like her's, that's how I would want to do it. Channeling shouldn't only be for those who have money. It should be for everyone. I would want to just charge enough to make the bills, and do it for free for others after that. I don't know if that will ever happen for me or not, but it would be nice to get off SSI. Or be making enough to also explore my AB side more. 

        I would love to own a place where I can have a dedicated nursery and could afford to decorate it the way I have pictured in my head. I guess only time will tell. What I can say is this is all pretty exciting for me. When I was younger I never would have ever thought I would be a channeler/medium later in life. Wow. 

         And since asking my friends question about if he should keep his job, I have channeled so much more. It had only been about a month since I asked his question. I had channeled for a few people. And toward the end of November it seems I freaked my mom out. I was in the bathroom and was told that my mom's shoulder was causing her pain. Being one for validation I came out and asked her if her shoulder was hurting her. It was! I was expecting her to say no and go on my way. But to find out the information was correct was, well, neat! 

         Every time I am able to validate channeled information really helps me to trust the information that is channeled that much more. Of all my gifts that I have become active in me, this is for sure one of my favorites. I have found it so fun to say the least. It's such a cool gift to have. It seems like each new gift I learn I have tops the last one. What can possibly top channeling? 

         On November 12th 2011 the spirit Erik (Elisa's son from Channeling Erik) got my necklace once again making 3 times now. I got up at 2am to use the bathroom and change and while in the bathroom I noticed my necklace wasn't around my neck. Right away I just sighed his name "Erik...". I went back in my room and hanging neatly over the bottom bar of my side crib rail was the necklace. As before, it was fully intact. It just continues to amaze me every time Erik gets my necklace off. He's such a prankster. :)

         Now on November 15 2011, I had a channeling message I had and wanted to confirm. Although, I knew I was right from the first time I saw it, but confirmation is always good. So, as many remember on the news was video of a blue spiral in the sky's of Norway that rotated and then turns into what appears to be a black hole. 

         So then I watched one of my favorite movies, The Last Mimzy. In the end of the movie, the two kids using the "toys" that came with the Mimzy rabbit to send the rabbit back to the future to save the human race. A portal opens that is nearly identical to the Norway Spiral. Watching the rabbit enter the portal, I heard "The Norway Spiral is a transdimensional portal".

          Of course, a message from spirit like that, I HAD to get confirmation. And I couldn't get it fast enough. That confirmation came through a friend who is a medium. Apparently I have always had the gift, but just need to practice. And let me tell ya, it's been a amazing journey. But when my friend confirmed that message, that those spirals in Norway really are transdimentional portals, it just left me with questions. 

         Who is opening these portals? Why are they opening them? What if anything is going in or out of them? What are the potential risks? The bottom line was, I was just shocked by the confirmation that what I heard was 100% true. A little hard to wrap my head around. But that shock was mixed with excitement that I once again got a full message clearly as a medium/channeler. 

         Some real good news of the month of November was on November 19th I was adopted by a AB Mommy named Christina. She is so nice. We role play online but also talk on the adult level. It's very nice to not feel so alone. To have a Mommy again is bitter sweet. I love having a Mommy again, but at the same time I miss Pam and Sandra. It does make missing my friends who passed easier to be role playing again. So that's really good. 

         But November hasn't been a totally fun filled month for me. I laid down late at night on November 21st 2011 after a low sugar episode which always leaves me pretty tired and drained. So I laid down and went to sleep. At 2:50am on November 22nd 2011 I had a dream about Sandra. 

       In the dream that felt totally real, me and Sandra had done some food shopping and gotten something to eat from a fast food place. We came home and sat down on the sofa. We put on the TV watching Law and Order, one of her favorite shows. The show was about a kid who had killed and when the judge ordered him to prison he tried to jump on the judges desk but didn’t quite make it and fell back down where the officers took him to the ground and handcuffed him. All the while the kid is threatening to kill the judge and all that. Then it was commercial. 

       During the commercial Me and Sandra are sitting on the sofa eating dinner having a good evening. So I ask her “Sandra, am I really really awake? Is this real?” She says “Yep, your really awake”. I was looking at her stomach which looks awesome after the surgery she had in July. I ask her “I know I keep asking if I am awake, it’s because I wanted to ask you……”. I had closed my eyes intending to reopen them and ask how she liked her stomach area and all now after the surgery to remove it. 

       For me, it seemed totally real since she had clearly made it through the surgery it had seemed and the last 4 months was just a really bad nightmare. But when I opened my eyes I realized I was in my bed and the visit with her going food shopping and getting take out for dinner and watching the Law and Order was all a dream. I was going to ask her that since she survived how she liked how her stomach looks now after the surgery. I wanted to make sure I was awake and it was real before I asked the question. 

      I had thought the dream was real because of how real the food shopping felt, our dinner tasted great even for fast food, the Law and Order TV show was so clear. I honestly thought the dream was real life and these last months were the nightmare and I was awake and now me and Sandra were back together. 

      Realizing that being back with Sandra was the dream has left me pretty sad. It really hurt to wake up and realize those few hours were just a dream. I can say when my time here is over and my time to pass away comes, I will be so happy to be back with Sandra, Pam and DJ again. I don't normally share about my dreams, but this was a not a ordinary dream. 

          On December 10th 2011 I found my channeling to be getting better. What's also freaked out my mom with me channeling is knowing when she's been gambling. When she's come home from gambling, I hear "Casino" and just tell her "did you have fun?". Then she tells me how much she won or lost. There are times like when she openly said she was broke. I was confused though because I once again heard "Casino" when she came home. 

        But, how can that be true if she's broke I thought. Then while in shock of asking me how the hell I knew, she told me she had gone out and got a pay day advance and went to the casino. Which shocked me too that it was true. She showed me a cell phone picture where she won $240.00, but lost it in bets before coming home. 

        On December 16th 2011 I had a wonderful dream visit from both Pam and Sandra. At first, in the dream Sandra came into a room and we laid and talked for what felt like hours. She gave me a bit hug, then I was just laying on her while talking. Then Sandra and I went into the living and Pam was there. But she wasn't the 57 year old Pam. It was Pam when she was maybe 40 or so. But 40 year old Pam or 57 year old Pam is still Pam to me. 

         In the dream, me, Pam and Sandra were doing a yard sale in the dream. In between customers we just continued to talk. It was just beyond wonderful. I didn't want to wake up. I could have stayed in that dream forever. I have no doubt that Erik had a hand in helping bring Pam and Sandra forward for me. Not just a dream visit, but a very long dream visit at that.

          On December 21st 2011 I had a dream vision. I suddenly woke up after seeing a earthquake. As soon as I woke up, I heard "Earthquake in Northern California within the week". After having a conversation with my mom's boyfriend John about saying I saw things before they happened, I went right up to him and told him what I saw, and the message and said to watch the next week for a earthquake in Northern California. 

          2 days later there was a 3.9 earthquake east of Sacramento by the California/Nevada boarder. Although my mom and her boyfriend said it doesn't count, me and my friend who is the medium says it does count. The dream vision didn't say what magnitude the earthquake would be, only where it would be located.

         On December 25th 2011, well, around December 25th my brother and his girlfriend came up for Christmas. We did it a bit early due to my mom's work schedule. Everyone there had gotten gifts for the exchange later. But both my brother and his girlfriend came up empty handed while still asking for gifts. My mom gave him $100.00 as well as our gifts. He saw no problem with not having gifts for the exchange. 

         He hung out for 2 hours to eat after the gift exchange and then left for the day to hang out with his friends. Then he came back long enough for a few hours sleep and then drove home. He claimed he didn't have money. What I would have done had I had no money is as soon as I got the $100.00, I would have run over to Wal-mart and picked up some things. Even if they were small $5.00 gifts. Something. 

        But no, he got his money and gifts and left. Can't be more of a jerk than that. But then that's my family for ya. Most of the family come around long enough to get what they want and then they disappear till the next time they need something. I will never understand my family. 

         December 30th 2011 I had a interesting dream that taught me about myself. I was what appeared to be a bear or something. I couldn't tell as I was seeing through the animals eyes. There was a man with a gun that was explaining that I needed to be killed. A moment after he shot me, I could taste this thick, almost jelly thick blood in my mouth. 

        That's when he pushed me off this high place. The fall felt high like a building. I knew I was going to die when I hit the ground. Knowing I was about to die, I wasn't really scared. I was just a little afraid of what hitting the ground was going to feel like. On the way down I just told Pam "I love you" and just waited to hit the bottom. 

        But before my body hit the ground my soul popped out so I didn't feel the impact. That's when I just felt.....good. I just sort of floated. Almost like when you lay on your back in the pool when no one is around splashing or talking. Just kind of floating there quiet. 

        Personally, I feel it was my guides showing me there is nothing to fear about the process of death. That when my time comes, I don't have to be scared. And by my comment to Pam, I just realized how much I still very much love Pam and call to her when I am scared. Just kind of interesting to me.

        On January 5th 2012 I had a all new experience with spirit. I was laying in bed, and all the sudden my bed began to......breath? It's difficult to explain. It's almost like there is someone under my bed with a broom stick that is gently pushing up through the mattress, and then gently letting me down, and then move to another area of the bed and push up there. 

         That very first time, it didn't scare me, but it concerned me because I didn't know who was doing it. Although I was pretty sure it was my guides. So I shot a e-mail over to my friend who's a medium to ask my guides who's doing it. And I was right, it was my guides. So now I just enjoy the contact with my guides. 

         January 6th 2012 It was strange, in a good way. I had my meeting with my PTSD therapist. Halfway through she was sharing that she was kind of stressed because she had a difficult case. Of course she can't go into much for privacy of course. But it was a child reporting child abuse by his dad and the dad is a cop with strings is trying to get himself off the hook. Anyway, in my mind I just kept seeing blond hair. 

    We moved on to other conversations and I just kept seeing blond hair in my head. I just had to finally stop her and asked her if the little boy had blonde hair.....he did! It was weird because all I knew of this kid was that he was male and 4 years old. So to get his hair color right on was amazing to me. I just wish I could figure out how to get information at will instead of at random. But I guess that will come with time. But still very cool each time I channel correct information.

         On January 7th 2012, something new with my guides happened. Them moving me, isn't limited to just my bed. I was in my recliner talking about it, and then the same thing was happening to the seat of my recliner. Like the mattress, it feels like there is someone under my recliner pushing a broom stick up.

        What is difficult for me to wrap my mind around is that under the bed, I can picture someone under my bed pushing up with a broom stick. But with the recliner that has less than 1 inch clearance, I can't imagine how they are getting under the chair to poke up through the seat. Difficult to wrap my mind around what's happening. 

        On January 16th 2012, the bed moving has been a nightly thing for a good 10 days now. But what I found out is we can use it to communicate. With practice, we came up with a way to talk using yes and no questions. For no, they raise the left side. For yes, they raise the right side of my bed. Both at waist height. And to give me a hug, they raise both sides at once. 

       For validation, I always ask the questions twice. It's been good. It's at least one way to talk with my guides till I get better at being a medium and can get messages at will instead of random. And I can't tell ya how much I love the hugs. :)

         January 24th 2012, I was approached by a group to do another show. I can't say anything about it right now, but I will be updating this part of the biography when the program airs sometime near the end of 2012. So do check back to this spot. What I can say is I got this really neat light baby blue onsie out of the deal with lap shoulders. It's GREAT. I have the sleeper, but it's rare it's cold enough to enjoy. But having this onsie is awesome. As was the filming and all that happened and I can't wait to share all the details here. It's going to be hard not sharing about it for like 9 months. But yea, check back at this spot in the bio in 9 months! :)

      On January 29th 2012 I got up that morning and sitting on the floor right next to my bed was my necklace. That's 4 times now. Always seems to get the necklace off my neck while I am sleeping and is either on on the rail of my crib or on the floor in a neat coil. 

     Then around February 5th 2012 or so I had another vision that later came true. In the vision, I am on the bottom floor of what appears to be a 3 story factory or hanger. Concrete walls and floors with a thin metal roof. People are working, machines moving around similar to fork lifts. Then all of a sudden there is a explosion on the other end of the building. The 3 floors of concrete all crash down at once while the thin tin type roof follows. All I could hear was screaming and crying. Then I woke up. 

      I always hope my visions don't come true. But on Feb 15th I checked online headlines for confirmation on what I saw. Sadly, I was once again finding the story. Checking headlines for what I saw I find this: http://in.news.yahoo.com/pakistani-factory-collapses-gas-explosion-dozens-trapped-053723733.html And then confirmed it with this video: http://www.reuters.com/video/2012/02/06/pakistan-factory-in-deadly-collapse?videoId=229675877 It's the same as I saw. 3 story, made of concrete and pancaked with a metal/tin type ceiling. The building came down due to a explosion. 

       I am 99% sure this is the building I saw. And that breaks my heart. They had children working there! Kids as young as 10, in a factory. What were they thinking hiring children for that? And it comes to find out, the place was closed down by authorities, but people worked anyway. It's just so upsetting when a vision comes true. 

      So over the next two weeks my PTSD ramped up pretty bad. By March 1st the nightmares and flashbacks are intense. To avoid the nightmares I avoided sleep. By day 3 of no sleep I went into the ER. Halfway though the stay I needed my pain medication for my back. But instead of giving me access to my back pack which has my medication in it, the nurse gives me two 10mg Norco and a nerve block injection. But the injection doesn't go in my arm, it goes in the butt cheek. 

       The injection was triggering of flashbacks because the nerve block injection was thick and stung going in just like the Thorazine injections in the hospital when I was a kid felt. Stung for two hours after the did the injection. I wish I had told her not to do it. In the end I wasted 9 hours and finally just left to go home. 

      The next day I called Enloe Medical Center in Chico just south. It's a voluntary mental health unit, the only one I can stand. So even though when I was there in August and was told I couldn't be fixed, the PTSD as if it wasn't bad enough was causing severe depression. I just wanted to scream "ENOUGH!!!" and take my life. 

      So they schedule a appointment at 11:30am the following day to go in. So I barrow $20.00 for gas to get there and hit the road. I was not happy to be going inpatient again but it was better than being dead. But when almost there I get a call on my cell phone saying they reviewed my case and feel it's a waist of time, that I am as good as I am ever going to get and said don't bother coming. Wish they said that before I burned half a tank of gas to get there at $4.15 a gallon. 

       What hurt was being told I am as good as I am EVER going to get, and that any further attempt to help me deal with my PTSD and handle the depression and suicidality is a waste of time. That hurt. So I went back over to the ER yet again. 

       The situation was, I was so suicidal it scared even me. And I am used to living with constant thoughts of suicide. So they set me up in a room where I wait for 9 1/2 hours for mental health to show up and do their thing. Sitting there, every second I am there being exposed to the hospital it effects and makes the PTSD worse. So I like to try to be as fast as possible if I do need to be there. 

        Then the poor kid in the next room made the situation worse. Well, not him, his foster mom. Being a empath, I connected to the kid. He was so upset. The foster mom clearly didn't like him. He was hyper, but not too much to be unexpected from a 6 year old. They tend to be hyper. But the darn foster mom kept hitting him and holding him down making him cry which made me cry being connected. It was really pissing me off. 

       Anyway, she finally leaves him alone physically and begins telling him she's going to take him to the police station and leave him there. I was trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with the woman. You don't tell kids that. Then she barges over to the nurses station saying she can't handle his hyper energy. He wasn't doing anything out of control, just being a kid. 

       She yells to the nurses station she wants him strapped to the bed and sedated. Then goes into the room and tells the kid nurses are going to be coming in right now to tie him to the bed and stick him with a big needle to make him sleep. 

        Not only was I pissed off at her talking to the child like that, and seriously bothered a foster parent like that could get custody of a child she clearly does not enjoy being around. You either like kids or you don't. But what was bothering me most was the fact restraints was mentioned. It's one of several triggers for flashbacks. Just hearing the word "restraints". 

        So on top of empathing this poor kids emotions ranging from hearing hurtful comments to down right fear of being rushed by nurses who tie him down to the bed and inject him with this huge needle, but also the fear of being left at a police station to live. As far as he knew, his foster mom could do that. But because she said that awful word "restraints" I was flashing back. 

      So 9 1/2 hours pass and mental health never bothered to send anyone to talk to me. So I left a note on my bed saying I went home and that it hurts reaching out for help and being denied. That I shouldn't have to be refused help when feeling so depressed and suicidal. It just plain isn't right. So I left the note on the bed, got my things and I went home. 

       I am home only 20 minutes, just long enough for a diaper change when I hear the police knock on the door. Because mental health never showed up to evaluate me they classified me as escaped. So I was handcuffed and brought back to the hospital. Yet more exposure. 

       Get's better, just as the cop car pulled into the hospital a AMR (American Medical Response) ambulance, the same company who used to come and take me to the psych ward as a child pulled in just ahead of us. Now I was really flipping out. The officer makes me walk right up next to the ambulance and walk along it. It was 1000000% torture! I don't even have words to describe it. But this might help put it in prospective. 

      The nurse came right in to take my vitals. Because of being brought back to the hospital with only 30 minutes or so after just leaving after a 9 hour stay, not only does the ambulance go by the police car as just the sight of it causes flashbacks, but the officer makes me walk right near it from bumper to bumper. My blood pressure came out 172/118 with a 120 pulse. I was in a straight up flashback storm. One right after the other producing the high blood pressure and thus causing chest pain. 

       What helped so much, and helped the two past recent ER visits was my guides including Sandra and Mommy Pam who signed on as my full time guides when they died. So they were there with me the whole time. They were trying to help me calm down. So we did the bed talking thing where I ask a yes or no question and they raise either the right for yes or the left for no. We just had a talk about another topic aside from the hospital. 

       Anyway, a half hour later a lady from mental health comes. Funny how she is there NOW but couldn't come in over 9 1/2 hours before or at least call the hospital to give them some kind of estimate of arrival. So she asks me why I am feeling suicidal. I explain to her about the PTSD being out of control, way more than normal. But that I can't figure out why. I was telling her I was even drawing what I was seeing to try to get it out of my head. Here are 3 of the pictures:

         With the pictures, the first is the solitary room they would always lock me in when I was in my teens. The second picture is of the solitary room door. And the third is a close up on the solitary room door looking out the solitary room to the nurses station across the hall. Just so detailed. 

        So I finish telling the woman from mental health about the out of control PTSD and how it's made the depression so bad and is why I feel suicidal. And that I had been unable to sleep for going on 5 days now. So she tells me she's going to uphold the involuntary hold the police put me on when they brought me back to the hospital. But because Enclose in Chico won't take me, the mental health worker said it could be Napa state hospital in California or a hospital in Sacramento. 

       So I sat freaking out. I was brought back to the hospital a little after midnight. The worker said she would arrange transport for me to be taken to the psych hospital in the morning. So 8am comes and goes. The whole time being brought back by the police, I can't get my medication for my spinal injury. The pain is severe when I don't have my medications, which the pain directly triggers flashbacks of the day the spinal injury took place. 

       My guides were trying to help my back by raising up and letting down the mattress. So that helped the pain. Don't know what I would do without them. And plus with them being my guardian angels, no amount of guards would ever be able to keep my guides from helping and being with me in that room. 

      So I was just sitting there in the ER with a security guard watching me waiting to be transported to the psych ward. So 11:30am comes and another mental health worker comes. She's Tod Harris's second hand woman. Tod Harris is the guy at mental health blocking me from any and all services. So for once I was glad to see her. She going by Tod overturned the involuntary hold the other worker signed and told me to just go home. 

        On one hand I was happy to not be going to a psych ward and happy for once to hear mental health refused to help me in any way thus overturning the psych hold. But on the other hand, I was still highly depressed, suicidal and still had the PTSD out of control. There was a chance at the psych ward that although I wouldn't like being there, I might have gotten help there. 

        It's just so difficult wanting help so bad but tortured to get the least bit. I don't want to die, it's just that I can't take the PTSD anymore. But at least I was let to go back home. Just not sure how long I was going to be able to go without sleep. So I went home and tried to get some sleep. 

       I got a few hours but the nightmares were still out of control. I woke up and did some self injury (Cutting) on my right arm and left wrist with a razor blade. Before that, I hadn't self injured in 8 months. Pretty good for me. But the day didn't make all that much difference. 

       By 6pm on March 8th the suicidal feelings were getting quite severe. I sat down and sent a letter to my therapist to let my therapist know that I didn't think I could make it this time around. I couldn't get a appointment to see my therapist till March 14, too far away. So I just said I thought that night would be my last. 

       My therapist called but I didn't feel like talking at the moment. So my therapist called the police to come over and talk to me. In the end I ended up talking to my therapist. We talked for awhile. But in the end it just didn't seem to make much of a difference. My guides told me to go to the hospital ER. So at about 11:45pm on March 8th I drove over to the ER and explained the situation to the nurse. 

      I was taken back to a exam room and a guard put at my room door. I gave the urine sample as always as the nurse brings in a gown. So I explained the issue with the PTSD and gowns. Normally it turns into a big fight over policy, but that night the charge nurse didn't give me a hard time as long as I was willing to take off my shirt and shorts if needed. The gown stayed off in the end. 

      Mental health showed up around 4 hours later. She said I would remain in the ER as a holding place till a bed could be found in a hospital. Shasta County Mental Health doesn't take patients to the "crisis center" anymore. They are held at the ER under guard till they are evaluated and either released to go home or held to be transported to a psych hospital out of county since there isn't a Psychiatric Hospital in Shasta County so all patients are shipped to psychiatric hospitals in surrounding counties. 

       So I sat in ER exam room #16 at Shasta Regional Medical Center from 11:45pm on the 8th till 9:35pm on the 9th. Around 8am on the 9th the ER actually requested a regular hospital bed to be brought down as the ER exam bed that had basically just a thin bad on it was really hurting my back. The hospital bed had a good 2-3 inch thick mattress and was adjustable which is very similar to the hospital bed I have at home. So I was able to be more comfortable as I waited for transport. 

       During that day they also ordered me trays so I didn't have to sit hungry, and the nice guard got me some soda's during the day. As hard as it was to be there, it wasn't one of my worst ER visits. But it did get triggering when another psych patient came in and was cussing and trying to leave while fighting staff. So she was put in restraints and sedated. So that was a bit difficult to be 2 rooms down from. So I closed my room door, put in my earphones to my MP3 player and cranked up the volume. That helped. 

      So around 7pm Tod Harris's right hand woman came over. We talked about the current situation. It wasn't the standard spend a few hours in the ER band-aid. Clearly the situation was worse than that. Aside from my guides wanting me in the hospital. Which I am sure had a hand in it as normally I am always sent home suicidal or not. So she continued to uphold the transfer to a hospital. 

       So at 9:30pm my transport arrived. A bed was found in Sierra Vista's 6 ward Psychiatric Hospital for children and adults in Sacramento California, 3 1/2 hours drive south of me on the 5 freeway. So I got my stuff and got in the car. It was so TIGHT, and not in a "Oh, cool" kind of tight. It was a 4 door Ford Escort that had the grill divider found in police cars separating the driver from the criminal (Also called a "cage" by police). My feet were hella cramped. Oh well. 

       Once on the freeway I asked the driver if he could run through the drive through or something to get something to drink as I didn't have a chance to refill my soda bottle with soda or water before leaving the ER. He tells me "No, I am not allowed to stop till we get to the hospital in Sacramento". So that really sucked. I was already thirsty. I just put on my headphones to take my mind off of it.

       So then I notice we are passing car after car. I look up at the dash board to see we are doing between 80-90 miles a hour. We got to the hospital in 2 hours flat. It takes me 3 hours doing 70 miles a hour. So that should put that into prospective. But the good thing was I got to learn of a new gift I had just by chance. 

       Before I got hospitalized in the ER, I was talking to some Indigo friends about electricity and such and one was telling me I had the gift. I wasn't really sure he had the right guy. But on the way down to the hospital I noticed my MP3 player battery only had a partial charge and the guy wouldn't give me any batteries out of my bag. So it died. 

       I took the battery out and figured "What the hell". I put the battery ends between my thumb and my first finger and concentrated visualizing energy going clock wise through the battery, into my thumb, around my hand and back into the battery through my first finger. I guess I concentrated about 20 minutes or so. I put the battery back into my MP3 player and turned it on. It had a half charge!!!! I was shocked as hell. I couldn't believe it. The battery died just as we pulled into the psychiatric hospital parking lot. It was so cool. 

        Anyway, the driver let me out and walked me into the building which we arrived at by 11:30pm on Friday March 9th 2012. I went up to the counter and told the woman I had to use the bathroom before signing all the paperwork. The woman had the driver follow me into the bathroom and stand right behind me as I went to the bathroom. Wish I had just kept my mouth shut and just used the diaper, at least I could wet the diaper with some privacy....sheesh. 

        After the bathroom I began doing the forms. We sign everything and she gives me the hold form. She says "Now, here's your 72 hour involuntary hold form I am sure you already know about". WHAT!!!! No one said anything about INVOLUNTARY. Hey, it was MY idea to go to the hospital, and willingly. I wasn't tied down and brought in kicking and screaming like I did when I was a kid. I was pissed off of course. But I was already behind the locked door, I wasn't going anywhere. 

        I followed the nurse onto my particular ward. Ward B. Apparently it's a more laid back ward from others. Well, thank god for that. We first went into the nurses office and did a strip search. When they got to the diaper, they didn't want to strip anymore....lol. Yea, I wouldn't want to strip search anyone's Depends either. 

       They took of my necklace that has my Sodalite crystal pendant on the end I never take off. Well, unless Erik takes it off while I am sleeping, such a prankster. So that was weird not having it around my neck. So I got dressed and followed the nurse into the day room to go through my things. 

       My back pack has all kinds of things in it to have something to do during my ER waits such as my MP3 player, books, pens and paper, hand fan to keep cool, diapers and changing supplies of course, my fish oil for my heart, inhaler for asthma.....just all kinds of things. But the back pack has everything I need for a one week stay in a psych ward as well just in case any ER visit results in a admit. It's a bag I put together as a child when I was being admitted at any time. 

       So out of the bag I got my two books, one diaper but had to ask for powder and wipes. Might as well keep the darn diaper too since I need the wipes and powder to change too. Not just a diaper. Anyway, got my change of clothes. I got my laminated sheet of phone numbers for the pay phone since my cell phone is taken away. And that was pretty much all I could have in my room. My clothes, a single diaper, and my books. 

        They took away my pens and pencils. They gave me just a ballpoint pen tip with the ink attached. Basically they removed the solid outer shell that is used to keep the pen stiff. So it was VERY difficult to write. Made my hand hella sore using them. 

         So then we began going over my medications and history. I gave them my paperwork I keep that has all my medical issues, medications, psych history and all that as well as my 2 page PTSD triggers sheet to try to remove as many triggers as possible. Which wasn't easy in the very place that triggers me. Of the first, I let them know about small rooms, and lights. Any room I am in is to have the lights on ALWAYS.

        So then they handed me a sheet basically asking me if I am upset what helps. So I checked off the suggestions on the sheet that worked for me and added some in the blank spaces. The next section what kinds of things would let staff know I am having a hard time. Like what to look for to see if I was having a flashback or having a hard time. So I checked those off and added to the blank spaces things not on the list. 

        Then I got to the area where it says things that for SURE don't help and make it worse. Well, while checking off things that for sure don't help in the first section my heart skipped a beat when I saw "Solitary Room" and "Restraints" on the list. That told me that the hospital had both a solitary room and used restraints on patients. (Some psych wards don't have either..for those who didn't know). 

       So I put 4 checks next to "Solitary Room" and "Restraints" as DO NOT USE. Those rooms are where a lot of the abuse happened in the hospitals as a child/teen. So yea, didn't want them using those rooms on me again. 

       So I finished the list and the intake nurse came back in and we filled out forms. Then she looked over the triggers list and the triggers form she gave me to check off. She then says "normally when suicidal patients come in, we have them spend the night in solitary". I was FREAKING OUT.

        I stopped listening and my body tensed up and my mind began planning a way to defend myself. I was getting ready for 6 people to bust into the room and all that mess. I didn't even know where the solitary room was, I didn't see it on the way in. Which is a good thing it wasn't in sight as it is a trigger just seeing them.

       Then she says "BUT! Since you have a history of abuse in those rooms, we won't do that with you". Oh my god, I was so relived to hear her say that. I felt my whole body relax a bit. She had me get my things and we walked back toward the ward door to room 109. They showed me my bed and had a staff member sit at the door way to watch me all night, instead of the solitary room. Good exchange I thought. :)

       I was in pain. Since the ER I hadn't gotten a dose of my pain medication in nearly 10 hours. So before the staff member got to my door to stand guard, I pulled out my secret stash of pain medication and took a dose. I normally hide a few doses in places staff NEVER check for times I am denied my medication such as in this case. So to make it till morning I took my standard dose leaving me with only one more of my stashed doses left. 

       The nurse though came in with Ativan pills. She was talking about my blood pressure being so high. It was 179/108 with a 118 pulse. Well geeze, I am in a psych ward, and if that wasn't enough you mention to me you lock patients in solitary overnight on the first night. Hell yea my blood pressure is going to shoot up. I have no idea what kept me in my seat and not running for the exit to try to break it down and get out, as that's been my response to someone mentioning solitary. 

        I told her no thank you though, that I would try my meditation/clearing instead to see if I could calm myself that way. Then she was complaining I slept sitting up. That's the PTSD. Laying down with my eyes closed left me feeling too vulnerable. Sitting up, I was able to close my eyes and be semi comfortable since I know I could defend myself far better sitting up than laying down. 

        Laying down, all they had to do was each grab a arm and just keep it down at my side, no way to protect myself. Sitting up that couldn't be done as I fold my arms across my chest. Either way, it sucks because it's not very comfortable. But it's the only way I can deal with the situation to feel safe and get any sleep, so that's what I did. 

        But every hour the nurse continued to offer sedatives. I didn't feel comfortable taking sedatives in a psych ward as I wouldn't feel safe. They would make me feel drowsy and thus feel like I wouldn't be able to protect myself fully. I know, what are the chances what happened in the past would happen there. Again, it's the PTSD. The PTSD tells my mind to be ready 24/7 for attack by staff or patient. It really sucks. That's why PTSD is so debilitating. You can't turn off the automatic response the trauma creates. 

        So finally around 2:30am I passed out for about a half hour. I woke up having a hospital nightmare of staff coming after me to take me to solitary. One of my common ones. But when I have a hospital nightmare and wake up IN a hospital, it throws me off. I didn't sleep the rest of the night. 

        In fact, the nightmare and waking up still in a hospital bothered me. Well, it upset me, I will just say it. So since there was nothing to self injure with, as they even took the staples out of the patients rights hand book that I took out and used in another hospital I had to come up with something. So I got the patients rights handbook and the cover is made of thicker papers. I tore off a corner which was quite sharp actually, and self injured. I finally felt calm. 

       But the next morning (Saturday March 10th 2012) I got in trouble for it. The nurse came in around 6am to take my blood pressure and saw the new cuts. She knew what was new as they logged every cut during the strip search. So there was no hiding it. She says "well, I am going to have to tell the charge nurse about this". My heart jumped. I slid my legs off the side of the bed as my heart rate climbed waiting for the group of staff to run in to take me to solitary. 

       Back in Van Nuys Psychiatric Hospital, every little thing it seemed was reason to rush in, take you to the floor, move you to solitary, inject you with sedative and put you in 5 point restraints. Hell, I just hung up the pay phone a little too hard in Van Nuys Psych and I was in my room less than 2 minutes and in they rushed to take me to solitary and restraints for "being angry". Anyway, the group of staff my heart was pumping waiting for never came, thank god. I am too old to be fighting off staff. My body just can't do that stuff anymore. 

        Instead, the charge nurse came to the door. She seeing me in such a state resorted to my sheet. She asked calmly if she could come in, and she came in slowly just her. I know, it sounds stupid, but it keeps me from accidentally reacting and harming someone who means me no harm. 

         Anyway, she came in, just her, and she kneeled down next to my bed. The whole time my eyes are watching her, watching the 2 staff standing at the door, just back and forth. She asks to see my arm, and I show her. It's nothing serious, didn't even draw and major blood. Just caused the skin to raise and slight blood. It's card board, not a razor blade. 

       She she calmly asks for one of the staff to get some A&D ointment and puts it on the arm, adding that it will keep me from being able to cut. It didn't, but she didn't need to know that. She was trying to help. So after that, she got up kind of slowly and asked me to promise if I had those urges again, to come talk to them. Those that know me know I don't make a promise unless I could keep it. So I told her I would TRY and left it at that. She turned and left the room saying "Breakfast will be here shortly". That was it.

       I still needed to calm down. So I sat back down center on my bed with my back to the wall, crossed my arms back, closed my eyes, and went back to clearing the anxiety. 30 minutes later the charge nurse knocked on the door. I opened my eyes to her asking if she could come in. She came in and had brought my breakfast to my room, seeing as I wasn't in a shape to be around everyone there just yet.

       So after I ate my breakfast I was told I was being moved rooms. So before I moved rooms, I went in the bathroom and took out my last pain dose I had hidden. That was it, now I was fully dependant on the hospital for my pain med's from there on. 

       And because of the self injury the room I was moved to was the every 5 minute check room. Which means the nurse comes in and see's what your doing every 5 minutes. I had a cool room mate. Nice guy. When awake, he was really sedated due to all the medications they had him on. 

       So that morning I got to meet with the psychiatrist. He wanted me to take Latuda (A antipsychotic which I am not) at night, and Cymbalta during the day. I told him right then that Cymbalta won't work. That anti-depressants cause me to feel MORE depressed. For some reason they work backwards on me. 

       Well, I would later find out Latuda doesn't treat nightmares and flashbacks like the doctor told me. God, I love my guides. Latuda is used to treat schizophrenia and dementia, neither issues I have. I read all about the medication when I got out later here: http://www.drugs.com/latuda.html Has nothing to do with PTSD. And in fact one of the side effects "Causes suicidal thoughts". Yea, like I needed any more help there! And causes issues with driving, so I wouldn't be able to drive my car. So I am happy I refused it in the hospital. 

       So anyway, back to the hospital. I finish meeting with the psychiatrist. I ask him for a possible time line. He won't tells me if it's days or weeks. But I get the feeling he's thinking weeks. HELL NO. What I knew was I didn't want to take anything that would dull my connection with spirit. My pain med's do to a point, and that's bad enough. So there have been times I let my pain med's go a bit so I can be clear. Normally when I have something important to ask and want to be dead sure on. 

        After not being able to pin down a discharge date, we broke off our meeting. I went up to the nurses desk to get some pain medication. That's when I saw it.....the solitary room. I was frozen, my eyes locked on it. 

(Here are pictures of the nurses station, with the restraint room seen in the back of the nurses station on the far right complete with two HELLA huge barrel locks. And the second picture is a close up of that solitary room door.)

        Anyway, I was finally able to look away. From that time forward whenever I went near the nurses desk I would make sure to block the view of the solitary room with my hand. I am sure I looked weird, but I didn't care. However the image of the room was already burned into memory as you can clearly see from the detailed pictures above. I can still see it now clearly. 

       One of the nurses finally saw I was standing there and asked me what I needed. They got the pain medication but there was a problem. For some unknown, probably stupid reason, the doctor decreased my pain medication. Normally I am on 2 5/500mg Vicodin, a 10mg Methadone, a 10mg Flexeril and a 10mg Baclofen. 

       Well, the doctor changed it to only one Vicodin instead of two, and cut out the 10mg Baclofen completely. That translated to about half the dosage of actual pain medication I normally get. So my back was hurting. It took the pain away a little, but not enough. So the whole time I was there at the hospital my back was killing me. The pain was causing me to stay in the bed a lot. It hurt to stand for very long.

       Due to the pain, I couldn't eat. So I gave my lunch tray to my room mate. He was happy. I just propped pillows behind my back while my guides did their bed moving thing to help my back. I felt like crap. The flashbacks were not helping. And I was resisting sleep due to nightmares. But you can only resist sleep for so long. So I ended up passing out for a few minutes and waking back up. Basically cat naps.

      So by 3:30pm I finally needed my first diaper change there. That was fun. They first are talking about "Stanley's Depends". First, Depends suck, and second I don't use them. I brought my own. So it took them a hour to find my diapers. Then had to explain to the charge nurse why I use duck tape, explaining that the tape tabs tend to fall off and duck tape reinforces the tape tabs. 

      It was 4:30pm before I could actually change. I hated having to ask for a diaper, wipes and powder every single time I needed a change. I enjoy role playing and all, but not while in a psych ward. So I hated feeling like a little kid having to ask for a diaper change. But I didn't feel so bad when I found out there were 2 other patients there in diapers. They got stuck with the "Depends". But it helped knowing I wasn't alone with that issue. 

       After the diaper change, I went for another dose, pain medication still hadn't been updated to proper dose. But I was happy to get anything. I went back to my room. I skipped dinner due to the pain. I just closed my eyes and tried to do the clearing to take away as much pain as possible. But the pain made it difficult to meditate. And by 8pm I had the nurse come in and yell at me for sleeping sitting up. She was yelling "Hey, don't sleep sitting up, your going to fall out of bed". By the way, never fell out of bed. :P

       Due to the pain, the pain tripping off the flashbacks and being in the hospital I was losing patients with everything. So I took out my cardboard and self injured 4 times overnight to keep control from freaking out. Being in pain is torture. 

       So by the next morning (Sun March 11th 2012) I had gotten maybe a hour or so sleep so I still wasn't feeling up to breaks. So I once again skipped and gave it to my room mate. I got up and went to get my morning pain medication. In the pills was the Cymbalta I told the guy that didn't work right for me and that I wasn't taking it. I took the pain medication and gave back the Cymbalta and he wrote in the chart I was refusing my medication. 

        I went back to my room and sat back on my pillows. At lunch I still wasn't eating. I once again gave my tray to my room mate. And around 3pm my psychiatrist showed up. He was asking why I was refusing medication. I told him I didn't take the Cymbalta because I didn't need to feel any worse. And for the other one, something just was telling me not to take it. And now I know why. It didn't fit any of my problems. 

      When I brought up that the pain medication hadn't been restored, that's when he told me the medical doctor didn't believe I needed to be on so much pain medication and reduced it to see what would happen. WHAT!!!! USE ME AS A DAMN GINNY PIG!!!! Pissed me off. 

      It's straight up cruel to be doing something like that to someone. You can reduce it without cutting it like that. And ok, they did and saw I was in pain, so why didn't they put it back then? So even though I was clearly in pain he still wouldn't put it back. And I couldn't leave because of the involuntary hold that I was surprised with. 

      At lunch time I was able to get some caffeine. I hadn't had any since the ER around noon. So I had a headache going. So since the ward had vending machines, I had money and had the nurse get me some. Freaking $1.50 for just a 16oz Dr Pepsi. I drank it fast. MMM, so good after not having any. 

      And I again gave my lunch away. I just couldn't eat. I don't know if it was because of the pain, my anger at the doctor, or the PTSD. Gave away my dinner to my room mate too. 

      At around 8pm my room mate was saying his foot really hurt. He had a blood blister that the hospital had opened. So it was wrapped and was hurting. So I told him "I don't know if you believe in this stuff or not, but I do hands on healing and would give it a shot if you like". So he told me he did, told me where the pain exactly was and I went to work. 

      I was stopped 5 minutes into it by the staff. Apparently it's against the rules to sit on another patients bed for any reason. Be it talking, or in this case...healing. So I got the nurse yelling at me saying I shouldn't be near another patient because they could turn violent at any moment. 

      That might be a good practice for the staff, but my gift of being empathic protects me from that. I KNEW my room mate wasn't going to hurt me. But then how do you tell a staff member you can feel other people's emotions without sounding nuts, and explain it while IN a psychiatric hospital...lol. I just moved back to my bed and left it at that. 

      She came back later though, and reminds me, she owes me $10.00 dollars! She was a bible thumper. Telling me the depression and PTSD is the devil inside me trying to steal my soul. (And they say I am the mental patient!) So she tells me to ask god for forgiveness to get into Heaven. Well, I already know I got back to Heaven, and that there IS NO Hell. In the end, everyone has their own belief. 

        So, why she owes me $10.00. She bet me that I wouldn't be discharged before Friday March 16th unless I ate a apple every day. I would eventually be officially discharged on March 12th in the afternoon WITHOUT eating any apples at all! HA. Just kidding, it was the Indigo in me, I HAD to prove a point.

        Back to the hospital, so the nurse making the bet laughed and went on her way. And then another nurse came back with some papers saying that soon my 72 hours would be up and that if I didn't sign papers to be there voluntary, they were going to do involuntary. So duh, I signed the voluntary forms and went back to my room. But still was no change to my pain medication I got after signing the forms. So apparently being voluntary doesn't make much difference. 

        The next day Monday March 12th 2012 around 1am I was in SOO much pain I decided to go out of body. I went back to my room, laid down with my arms at my side and maybe 30 minutes or so later I would out of my body. Oh my god it felt so good. There was no pain. I was out of body for about 2 1/2 hours when I was told my body was in danger. It was.

        I got back in my body, and after feeling the pain again I realized the danger. My body was FREEZING. Someone forgot to turn on the heat and left the air on from the afternoon. The rooms dropped down very low. My legs and stuff felt like ice cubes. 

       See, when you go out of body (Also called a OBE), your told to make sure you do it where your body is in a safe place and won't be harmed, and is safe temperature wise. Because when your out of body, you don't feel pain or anything going on with your body. 

        But if your body died while your soul is out of body, you can't get back....of course. It was my guides who warned me of my body and to get back quick. I didn't see them or anything, it wasn't even actually words telling me. It was just a energetic feeling of worry and danger mixed together. I have no words to describe it, sorry. All I knew was something was wrong with my body I needed to get back fast.

       I was Soooo cold. I had taken a few blankets and put them in pillow cases to make pillows because you can't have more than one pillow without a doctors note for some crazy reason. Like your going to kill yourself if you have more than one pillow. So I removed the two blankets that were warm from me laying on them under my back and laid them over my whole body to warm it back up. Overall I was happy to have the 2 1/2 hours worth out of my body. 

       Had me concerned because I never imagined my body would be in danger in a psych ward overnight in a room being checked every 5 minutes. So I assumed my body would be fine for a few hours overnight. Apparently the nurses checking the patients were not going all the way into the rooms. They were only shining their flashlights from the doorway and thus never felt the temp change between the hallways and rooms which are on two separate controls. Who knew?

       Then there was the flight shortly after I returned to my body that happened just down the hall. A patient woke up, went over to their room mate and started attacking them. Of course the first patient was taken to the solitary room. Which set me off flashback wise due to the words "Solitary Room" being used. After he banged on the room's inch thick Plexiglas window a few minutes he got tired and went back to sleep. 

       Breakfast came and when asked I refused once again to eat. Nearly 72 hours no food what so ever. Just a few cups of water. How I was able to move and be alert and not having my sugars crashing I have no clue at all. Your guess would be as good as mine. 

       But 20 minutes later a nurse comes in with a breakfast tray anyway and makes the comment "I have a tray I THINK you will like" as she gives it to me with a smile. I was like "ooookkkkk". She leaves the room and I look down to say a label that says "B Stanley, Plasticwear" and circled is the words "Finger Foods". I busted out laughing. I couldn't help it. So I was thinking "Did Taboo run another episode this weekend?". It was just weird and funny at the same time. 

       In the meal was two pieces of toast with 2 packs of Jelly, 2 sticks of string cheese and a bagel log that has cream cheese inside. Really, it wasn't very big of a meal size compared to other hospitals. So it was a good thing I didn't have my normal appetite. But it was weird. Had I not been in the hospital and been role playing, the so called "Finger Foods" might have been kind of cool. 

       I tore the sticker off the box because I knew no one would believe I would get a toddler meal from the kids unit....lol. Well, maybe not toddler, but sure not adult. That meal I ended up eating. Maybe it was the laughing that got me feeling like eating. But either way I did eat.

(Here's the "Finger Foods" circled sticker. The "B" in the upper left is not short for BABY...lol. It is for what psychiatric unit I was on in case anyone wondered what it meant.)


       At 9am everyone with a red hospital band could go off unit to the Gym. I was given a red arm band the evening the day before. But I thought for a moment and felt if I used it to leave the unit I would be so tempted to bolt for the door and escape. Wouldn't be the first time I ran on impulse seeing a escape route. So I decided to stay behind. 

       Before everyone was walked to the Gym, the lady running the group to the gym asked me why I wasn't going, that I had a red band and could go. I didn't think telling her I felt like I might run if I had the chance would go over well, so I just told her I didn't feel up to it. So she tells me "So! your mean your refusing? I will let your doctor know!" and walked off. I was happier just staying to myself reading my books.

       What the hell. What if I was tired and didn't feel like going? When did it become a crime to not go to the gym? Geeze. She tried to get me to still go saying "Well, you can read your book there". I was getting annoyed and was so tempted to tell her how I really felt which was "Look, I don't want to go because I want to get the hell out of here and know if I see a way to escape I would go for it OK!". But I didn't say that. Besides, I knew if I went and I did take the escape, it would be more trouble. I was just being proactive. And not the pimple cream!

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