I'm sure you'll all be happy to hear that I am doing MUCH better than I ever thought was possible. A lot has happened since my last post. It's been just over a year since I was first admitted to a psychiatric hospital, guro-chan, and I figured it was high time to see if this thread still existed. Happy to see it's still kicking.

Shortly after I was discharged from the military, I collapsed under the mental pressure and attacked my (now ex-, obviously) boyfriend with a knife and nearly killed him. I stopped myself before I did any fatal harm, but he's permanently disfigured. I was arrested, banned from all US military bases, had charged filed against me for assault with a deadly weapon, and things went to shit for a while.

I was put on hormonal treatment that's affectionately referred to as chemical castration by the press. Was on that for three months, in addition to a plethora of other meds. Was gradually weaned off of them as my psychiatrist noticed that they were doing more harm than good. Somehow I managed to find a job and an apartment, fix up my car and get my case together. I went through three apartments and two jobs in that period of time. You can guess how well I was handling all of that stress, while heavily medicated and still being denied treatment.

I was assigned a public defender and they did one hell of a job. The charge was negotiated down to a misdemeanor, and the judge wanted to dismiss the case, but HAD to charge me with something, as it was a federal case. I'm on a year of probation- so I HAVE to be given therapy.

Rather than being given intensive treatment, I was lied to by those precious military doctors. In fact, I was put in group therapy for an hour each week, and received no personal treatment whatsoever until just two months ago. That's right, ladies and gentlemen. Two months. It took a court order and a very kind, inexperienced therapist to volunteer to see me pro-bono for me to get any treatment, and it was just in the last two and a half months.

You know what I've accomplished in those two months? I've been able to be medication free. I don't want to hurt anyone anymore, let alone kill them. I've gained an understanding of how I ended up in that crisis, why I felt compelled to do those things, where my necrophilia came from, I've managed to feel emotion, guilt, compassion... just a little over two months of therapy and I've come further than most of those doctors ever thought was possible- than I ever thought possible.

I still have those intrusive thoughts and compulsions. I'm still working a shitty job that I struggle at, simply because I'm around others. I'm still attracted to the dead, but I can see now how wonderful other people can be, that they aren't just objects to be exploited...

Here's the kicker, though. So, I'm making all of this progress with my therapist, things are going good- turns out that the psychiatrist who I was supposed to be seeing on a frequent basis, that drugged me up and turned me over to someone else's care, just like the rest of them, has ordered me to take a polygraph test. This prick, who has almost no involvement in my care, refuses to believe what I say and needs a biased test infamous for false-positives to believe what comes out of my mouth.

My psychiatrist is insisting that for him to even consider seeing me on a more regular basis, after MONTHS of me begging for care, after finally throwing in the towel on his blind ass, that he needs the results of a polygraph.

His assistant, my therapist, the ONLY professional that has ever made a concerted effort to help me and done any good, has admitted multiple times that it's probably her inexperience that aids her most. She isn't so tied up in the system that she loses sight of her patients.

FUCK every last one of those jaded, self-righteous, pretentious doctors. I don't care how many degrees you have. I asked for some compassion and a listening ear. It was all I needed. Not any brain scans, not chemical castration, not prison, sedation or any other method of restraint. I just needed to be treated like a human being and shown that people aren't as monstrous as I was made to believe. I hadn't been shown anything otherwise.

I pray to God that I'm just an exception, and that there aren't many other people out there that have had to put up with the same bullshit. I hope that there isn't anyone else out there that went asking for help, and wound up worse off for it. I hope that I was just terribly unlucky, and saw the wrong side of psychiatry- that they're simply too inexperienced to handle this kind of case professionally, and that they all learned something.

If nothing else, I'll keep you all updated. I'm just starting to get back on my feet... I'd hate for a fucking psychiatrist to kick me back into the gutter again because they can trust a machine more than my word. god forbid they invest any time into their patients.