Thank you for today.
The last time I had seen you, March 16th, 2016, I talked to you about PTSD and Emotional Trauma, as opposed to Bipolar. I tried to be adamant that I am not 'Bipolar' and I still do not believe that I am. Not in terms of a 'biological illness'. My life situation has always dictated tough odds and limited routes filled with people wanting to keep me down.
My family has always devalued me. For the most part, they never wanted me to succeed out of their own greed. By the last time I had seen you, I had been thrown out of my home as the Port Moody Police railroaded me. They threw me out penniless after I almost dropped dead from stress. The only thing I was doing was trying to survive.
I had told you that I am going to end up penniless on Hastings Street. You stated that that was too bad as I was such a hard worker. Then you walked away. That was kind of hard to take. Anyways, I am literally penniless, I am sleeping in a shelter with drug addicts, my livelihood is practically destroyed, as with much of my health.
I could fix my life if I could go home and free to do what I need to do. In August/September of this year, I dropped off everything to keeping my life, my livelihood, everything after a really tough go of two years. I dropped that off, before checking myself into the hospital in order to save myself from walking into a car and killing myself.
The Port Moody Police tried to arrest me for Mischief for that act. After a twenty five minute conversation, they let me go. Upon dropping my truck off, they sent an Emergency Response Team, complete with guns drawn, flash grenades and warnings to come out before I get hurt. I wasn't even there, lucky because they just killed someone prior in the same scenario.
I was arrested after the Lions Gate Hospital refused to take me in. With poor sleep and trapped in a prisoner box, hardly able to hear a prosecutor happily twisting the facts before the Judge, I called them all Criminals and Communistic Bureaucrats. That landed me 30 days in Jail for a 'Mental Health Evaluation'.
After getting out, I wrote Queen Elizabeth II stating my intent to Breach my Conditions and talk to my mother. Arrested again only be released on a 'Rogers Order'. A Rogers Order in which I am to inform any doctor of such. However, just as I have stated online I will let you know now that my Primary Doctor is God, my Primary Counsellor is God, my primary Psychiatrist is God.
There is no forcing me onto Medication or Treatment that is bogus. Some nights I am kept awake by the people at the shelter, or I get stressed before Court dates, but other than that, there really is no time that I see any medications being useful.
Social Services wanted me to file a claim for disability. They had seen my emotional state which does not always reveal itself. I cannot work, not only is my health degraded, the logistics of the whole situation are unmanageable. I cannot go home because of Bail Conditions. My truck, at least last I knew, is there with a dead battery, packed full of the wrong items and I need a secure property to work out of. I have no money, except for hardship benefits $300/month.
Smoking is only the only thing that keeps me level. As soon as I cannot afford that, I will mentally degrade very quickly. Patches, nicorette gum, all that stuff is useless. I would write out why, but I am condensed in writing this. I need them to function and deal with things on hand, especially court related matters. Even working, I need them for the stimulation even though... if I can and only I can determine this in free will, if the time is right I would to stop.
What I truly need I cannot get. I need to be at home and on immediate disability to get myself on my feet. To get myself working. To deal with Court. Outside of that, I need disability and private room somewhere with whatever possessions of mine I require to write the Truth. The Truth is the only thing that will save me, heal me and correct me. That is exactly what everyone denies.
For the most part I am ok, until I encounter stress. Especially unnecessary stress. I will probably appear fine to you, but I am not. I told an RCMP Member just the other day that is inevitable, it is imminent that I will end up walking into a car and killing myself. I see that as a likely hood rather soon and it was one that I was close to as of a few weeks ago.
In September, I was on the street before attempting to check myself in the hospital. I realized just how fast the mind degrades. I figured then, it would happen in as early as three nights. I am not a street person. I am a person that requires a stable home.
The problem was always my siblings. That's right, your very own patient Jim BERLADYN. I need you to fill out a PWD.
- PTSD / Emotional Trauma
- Prolonged Over-Stresses
- Near Death Experiences
- High Risk of Suicide.
The bureaucracy is too slow. I've heard three months may be the soonest. I have done everything I can do to stay off the system and I am far past being able to wait. I have attempted to see other doctors before you, but all I get is spun around. Eventually I was told it should be you filling out the form.