(no subject)
This last year has been a bit of an adventure. It's now evident to me that I have a mental illness that's going to impair me for the rest of my life. Normal person things like careers and relationships don't really seem like they're going to be an option for me. I'm still on the fence about whether it would be safe for me to operate vehicles or firearms. It often leaves me feeling very wounded - there isn't really anywhere I can go for help. Medical science and psychiatry doesn't really have much to offer despite all the displays of professionalism and authority. I've done the drugs they want me to do and the therapies, but in the end I'm really just on my own with all this. Many people say they'll help, but really have no intent to do so. Some friends actually do want to help, but don't really have the appropriate insight or experience for all their good intentions. A small handful happen to have a superhuman talent for intervention and are capable of rehabilitating me better than the hospital can. But otherwise all I can do is try to disable myself with tranquilizers whenever I feel like there's a problem. It doesn't solve the problem, it just renders me too comatose to get up and go cause damage.
In spite of all this I've been cowboying up and getting random certifications for self development. I got a pretty beefy first aid ticket and it's gotten me random work. The main flaw on the jobsite is that although I know the first aid stuff well, I don't have a lot of experience. So I've been working and volunteering random gigs with the intent of leveling up my first aid skill, and the plan's been working. I find after the first emergency call, everything gets much less terrifying. I haven't tended to a super high priority injury yet, but I'm getting my feet wet.
My next step is a security ticket. I'm slowly puttering through the security course online. I find even without the certification, just knowing about all the laws and protocols related to the field is really interesting. Between the first aid and security the world seems sort of like a GTA sandbox game where everyone is just beating each other up and patching each other together, but with complex rules for trash talking, intimidation, and legal posturing ("tactical communication" is the official term, I think). Being a science guy all this time, I was largely oblivious to the living GTA game going on around me at all times.
My version of the game is complicated by the need to calibrate for my random levels of mental derangement. Drugs (prescribed, over the counter, and gray area) are like power ups, but instead of healing health, they up or down mental health which can be either too high or too down. Medical supplies are good for healing damage, but I also use them for work since I often bring my own kit to a site. Boots and shoes can be equipped for different tasks (class 1 for construction; but class 2 for light labor, running and risk of combat). Animal sprays and sport smoke grenades are good for distracting animals that come out when I'm out late or camping. If my derangement gets too high I can ask a friend to take care of me, but then I owe them a solid. Each friend usually takes a different kind of favor. If all else fails I either get arrested or go to the hospital for a few weeks. Or dead, but that hasn't happened yet.
Eventually I'd like to tie all of this back to science and creative writing since they're things I've had a life long obsession with. I have a hundred schemes on how to do this and I can come up with a hundred more, but my insanity level is too high to effectively focus on lofty long-term dogma at the moment. All of this precludes a stable career in a job that pays money. Like always I float along on small gigs well below the poverty line. Like I'm accustomed to.
In spite of all this I've been cowboying up and getting random certifications for self development. I got a pretty beefy first aid ticket and it's gotten me random work. The main flaw on the jobsite is that although I know the first aid stuff well, I don't have a lot of experience. So I've been working and volunteering random gigs with the intent of leveling up my first aid skill, and the plan's been working. I find after the first emergency call, everything gets much less terrifying. I haven't tended to a super high priority injury yet, but I'm getting my feet wet.
My next step is a security ticket. I'm slowly puttering through the security course online. I find even without the certification, just knowing about all the laws and protocols related to the field is really interesting. Between the first aid and security the world seems sort of like a GTA sandbox game where everyone is just beating each other up and patching each other together, but with complex rules for trash talking, intimidation, and legal posturing ("tactical communication" is the official term, I think). Being a science guy all this time, I was largely oblivious to the living GTA game going on around me at all times.
My version of the game is complicated by the need to calibrate for my random levels of mental derangement. Drugs (prescribed, over the counter, and gray area) are like power ups, but instead of healing health, they up or down mental health which can be either too high or too down. Medical supplies are good for healing damage, but I also use them for work since I often bring my own kit to a site. Boots and shoes can be equipped for different tasks (class 1 for construction; but class 2 for light labor, running and risk of combat). Animal sprays and sport smoke grenades are good for distracting animals that come out when I'm out late or camping. If my derangement gets too high I can ask a friend to take care of me, but then I owe them a solid. Each friend usually takes a different kind of favor. If all else fails I either get arrested or go to the hospital for a few weeks. Or dead, but that hasn't happened yet.
Eventually I'd like to tie all of this back to science and creative writing since they're things I've had a life long obsession with. I have a hundred schemes on how to do this and I can come up with a hundred more, but my insanity level is too high to effectively focus on lofty long-term dogma at the moment. All of this precludes a stable career in a job that pays money. Like always I float along on small gigs well below the poverty line. Like I'm accustomed to.