Trump Immigration Policy Hinders PTSD Treatment

On a separate track from the medication issue (unresolved), I met with a new therapist who does EMDR, which is one treatment for PTSD. She seemed good and thought I’m a good candidate for it based on initial screening. She did her master’s at Case Western, so we’ve both lived in Ohio. The catch is that she’s foreign, and the government rejected her visa application, so she has to leave the country. I don’t think many capable health providers with advanced degrees were kicked out of the country under previous presidents. I apologized. Treating low-income trauma patients isn’t exactly a job Americans are clamoring to do. In fact, this would be my first treatment for PTSD after more than 3 years seeking it in at least 4 different clinics. 
She’s the only clinician at Rainier Beach who does EMDR, so she’s referring me to Renton or Des Moines to see another one. I think those are accessible from the 106 and A Line, though Des Moines is probably a long trip for weekly appointments. I’ve never really been there. I’ll see this therapist again after I get back to follow up on the referral. 
I also got my passport application printed and photo taken, but they stop processing them at 4:00. So I’ll come back tomorrow or Monday to finish that, then I can take my Scandinavia trip. Trying to keep the productive momentum going. New couch coming tomorrow before a night watching Bella and Milo.

Classist, Ableist Health Care

Can’t seem to get med refills or doctor appointment before leaving town. They interrupt and don’t listen to you. I even got hung up on trying to explain why people with autism hate talking on the phone and why it’s such a problem for a supposed mental health provider. Hardly any locations in the city or accessible without a car. I don’t know if I’ll be in drug withdrawal for the two weeks I’m in Columbus. This is how Medicaid and King County Community mental health work. Programs for the poor are poor programs.

A Brief Relief?

I saw a doctor and got temporary psych med prescriptions. I’m waiting for them to be ready. That should bring some relief by tonight. This doctor wanted me to alter an existing appointment, I forget why, so I go back Friday to see the kind, understanding, pretty doctor (locum) again. My regular doc is back soon, so she’ll be gone. 

Today’s doc was naturopathic and suggested cranio-sacral therapy (?) for PTSD in Wallingford. I’ll look it up. She says they found a way to get Medicaid to cover it. She also wants to believe my toe numbness is due to high blood sugar, but I’m seeing diabetics online who have the same side effect from the med I take and say it goes away as soon as they switch meds, so I want to try an alternative. I’ll try to do the intake for longer term psychiatry tomorrow. 

A small present I got myself arrived, so hopefully I can get the broadcast TV channels well and watch Jeopardy regularly. 

I got an email blast from a temp agency I worked for years ago, seeking an executive assistant. They’re interviewing me Monday morning. I expect absolutely nothing out of this. They treated me pretty badly in 2012-13 after I did a great job for them in 2011. I mentioned the idea of unionizing temp workers, and they banned me from their Facebook page. It rubs me the wrong way that they’re even open on MLK Day, let alone having people interview then. 

I emailed a bunch of information to the community mental health ombudsman, and he claims interest in helping but won’t deal over email. I’ve emailed and left phone messages for Larry Gossett about a few things, but the man never answers. I’m ready to vote for someone who responds to constituents, rare as that is. 

So call this all cautiously relieved. Never count your chickens before they’ve hatched.

UPDATE: Two meds filled, one not ready until tomorrow.

Gratuitous Torture by Valley Cities

After all this hassle, countless phone calls, voice mails, dead ends, being referred to the wrong people some of whom are out indefinitely, getting sent to voice mail boxes that were full, getting their nighttime message during the day, two weeks of medication withdrawal,messages not being returned, and more I can’t remember offhand; I finally am told that intake appointments aren’t scheduled at all. They’re on a walk-in basis weekdays 8:30-2. I can’t make it today, but that sure would have been helpful to know THREE FUCKING WEEKS AGO! ~€^}{]|<:5(;( 😡😡😡😩😩😡😡😡😩😡😡😡😩😩😡😩😩😩😩😩😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡

Parade of Crippling Misery Continues

1/2) I went to the dentist today. For some reason, they split checkups from cleanings, so I have to go back for the latter. They said I need a new crown. Medicaid won’t cover it (nor did federal employee coverage in 2003). The sticker price is $1100, and they have sliding scale fees for which I made an eligibility appointment, but the discount tops out at 50%.
I asked how long a crown should last, and they stuck with “for life if it’s done well”. I gently pushed for a clearer answer, saying there must be statistics on median, average, etc; and they said 15 years. That’s about what I remember being told before. My crown is only 9; I got it in 2008. It’s also either the 7th or 10th one I got on this tooth from 2003-08; they just never stay on, and when moving or switching dentists for insurance reasons, I always have to start from scratch convincing them that I need a gold crown. No other material (all cheaper, of course) stays on.
Gold crowns have other advantages, but I only care about the practical health aspects–I’m not into precious metals or jewelry at all, as I think they suspect sometimes. My only jewelry is a used watch I got for $20. The only other gold I own is a French coin my uncle gave me for my Bar Mitzvah.
The dentist was good about reasonably going over the risks and situation, acknowledging that it’s not urgent but should be done in the next 2 years. At some point, pulling the tooth and ending the root canal/crown drama enters as an alternative. I’ve always wondered about that, because it would be cheaper, less painful, and done forever after one procedure. It’s the very furthest molar in the back, so no one really sees it but me. It’s also my only root canal. The one other tooth I keep an eye on for a possible root canal is fine–they said it looks odd but is healthy, so that’s only cosmetic which I don’t care about. (The Baptist dentist who explained to me that a gay Barney Frank couldn’t be a real Jew made the filling way too big)
This means more hassle, physical pain, and expense. Could I get one cheaper somewhere else? UW dental school? Should I try a private dentist and pay out of pocket? How long will another crown REALLY last? The pain is bearable once every 15 years but not every 15 months. Or should I scrap all this and have the thing extracted? Even if it’s $550, how do I pay for it? Would it be worth buying my own dental insurance? Or getting it done on vacation in Europe? I feel awful saying this, but my grandpa is dying which could involve some inheritance. Should I see if my tooth can wait him out?
It’s just a thorny set of issues no one ever needs.
2/2) I walked a small, sweet dog today who I’ll call Kite. Last summer, for the first time ever, someone complained to me about a dog walking on their lawn. It wasn’t until last month that I checked the DPD website to look up her property limits so I knew where I could and couldn’t let Kite go.
Today another woman yelled at us from another house, apparently unhappy that Kite was walking on the lawn. It was a little hard to see in the rain, but I’m pretty sure she was in a different house than the one that owns the lawn we were on, as Kite regularly has enjoyed for months, both with me and her owner. This woman’s yard is inaccessible, so we’ve never been there. She was yelling at me about this lawn not being a dog walking area when IT’S NOT EVEN HER YARD.
I know where the lot lines are, because I just looked them up. Basically, all the open space short of the next driveway belongs to a house on the corner–where a dog lives. And apparently a nice couple with pre-teen kids.
I couldn’t tell exactly what this woman was saying, but I offered that I’m happy to avoid her yard if she likes (which we already do; there’s no access). If someone doesn’t want a dog on their property, that’s their right. That’s why I looked up the lot boundaries! Kite loves that space, and I didn’t want to get in trouble. I have no idea why this woman is white knighting for her neighbor.
Also, Americans are way too obsessed with their precious PROPERTY and get ridiculously rigid about it. Living beings are more important than property. If Kite were a big, loud, messy, destructive, aggressive, or even reactive dog; I’d understand. But she’s a small (cat sized), quiet, well-behaved older girl who just likes to sniff everything. She pees once in a while, and if she poops, I pick it up. Where’s the harm?
When I looked these homes up on DPD’s site, I also checked them on Zillow. My client rents a mother in law apartment allowed and approved only due to a 2009-era city ordinance. The houses around her are generally big, with very big lots, and high prices due to their good views of and proximity to Lake Washington. The house on the corner is estimated at ~$900,000. So my take is that this is a well-off, privileged white woman who has lost any perspective of what’s important in life. But with everything else I’m dealing with lately (nasty withdrawal from multiple psych meds, shoe destroyed by a dog I was sitting, first ever bite by a dog I was sitting and resulting $323 ticket, broken arm on the same side as my 2015 and 2014 injuries to the same one), and the cold and rain, I didn’t need this.
My client apologized for her neighbors but later said we’re both going to have to keep Kite off the lawn for now. That will take time for her to adjust to, and she won’t understand why. But it’s so stupid. She just likes to sniff all the stuff there, and suddenly she can’t anymore. Reason and compromise lost here. Wealth, privilege, and selfishness won. What makes you decide it’s so fucking important to keep a sweet little dog off SOMEONE ELSE’S lawn? Do you have no bigger problems in life? No higher priorities? Is this a little protest against the fact that a MIL apartment was ever allowed, where a non-rich person (special ed teacher) could move in? It reminds me of the passive-aggressive note I was left at a temp job in 2013 complaining that I didn’t correctly arrange the veggies in their free, twice-daily veggie tray. There are too many of these people, and they have too much power. Could they survive what I deal with?

Bad Therapy & Good Gender Discussion

I remain convinced that people know what they need but are blocked from getting it. Whenever I try to discuss my lack of love life with health professionals, and often with others, they simply refuse to hear certain facts, they make false assumptions, they lay blame, they ignore facts and evidence, they suggest strategies they know have failed me, and they refuse to hear me when I repeatedly tell them exactly what I need: dating social skills for adults with autism. I sent my new therapist the CBC news clip about the UCLA training program. I explained all the relevant bits of my history I could get in and what I’ve seen on autism websites/in autism groups and what an exclusive match it is. He (I finally managed to get a male therapist, and there’s a male perspective that women just don’t get around straight dating) is still suggesting things I’ve already done, focusing on imagined issues I don’t have (e. g. shyness), suggested DBT–which is fine but hardly helps with dating, is trying to advise me about what to do on a date when the problem is that I can’t get one, is giving me insights I needed 20 years ago but already told him how I discovered myself (the long list of opportunities I would’ve availed myself of except that I had no idea at the time that they were staring me in the face), and acts like I know what to do but can’t or won’t do it. No matter how many times I come back to autism and the unwritten rules and non-verbal communication of NT culture and dating, he won’t address it. Nor will he argue against it. He just changes the subject away from it. He suggests there are different kinds of flirting, dismisses the seduction/pickup “artists” as if sex isn’t or shouldn’t be what I want (why not??), and talks about optimism and confidence–as if you just inject that from a tube you get at the store after a lifetime of being ignored, rejected, led on, abused, systematically crushed and traumatized.

Why do health professionals consistently behave this way? Ockham’s Razor rules out malice. In fact, the therapist said he thinks I’m a likeable guy and should be able to get a girlfriend (which pretty much all my therapists have said). I told him, as I have believed from observation for many, many years; that I’d make a better boyfriend than 90% of the ones out there. I constantly see women with awful men who mistreat them but fit the cultural mold better than I do. They act this way because they are totally clueless. This therapist admitted to me before that he really knew nothing about autism and would have to learn along with me. So of course he doesn’t know what the needs or available resources are–the latter because THERE ARE NO RESOURCES FOR US. But none of them want to admit this. That’s why he neither listens to me nor argues that autism isn’t the issue. They are afraid to say they don’t know and pretend the emperor wears beautiful robes (Kim Jung Un?). They are unwilling to follow the science and either say no one has figured out the answer for us, or that we have a good idea what it would be but don’t have it available. So the default plan is to waste a lot of time, money, effort, and emotional turmoil–for which the blame will all be put on the patient when it finally comes to a head–chasing whatever strategies or programs or resources they DO know about or have available, no matter how irrelevant. The idea there is to run out the clock stalling for time until something becomes available. I’m unable to go along with that.

Also today, I went to a Happiness Initiative event that turned out to be really great, and I wish I could’ve spent the whole day. There was a beautiful young woman there who said some things that positively thrilled me about the constraining, unhealthy gender roles men are forced into; the social, emotional, substance, criminal, and physical problems they cause; how both men and women feed each other to perpetuate patriarchy while both suffer from it; how it feeds rape culture; how men aren’t supposed to be or appear weak, sensitive, vulnerable, or emotional…and the woman whose presentation she was responding to had already said how men were really the key in feminism and gender equality (she’s focused on gender inequality in the home). I don’t think I’d heard women say these things since I was in college! For an amazing change of pace, I could sit back and agree instead of having to be the one issuing strategy and warnings that get me misunderstood and ostracized. (Why is there no feminist equivalent of the seduction/pickup community? How can you achieve equality between two groups of people if you don’t involve both, and how can you expect to appeal to men if you don’t also listen to and address their legitimate gender concerns?)

So this was a kind of small group training, and tomorrow is part of their conference, which I can also attend. I’m not sure whether to try to connect with this girl. 1) Chances are she’s significantly younger than I think, and 2) Basically every woman I pursue after meeting in real life turns out to be unavailable. Or 3) I get one of the standard online dating results: being ignored, rejected, or led on. But she’s on my mind as she was very pretty AND demonstrated a true understanding and fairness about gender.

UPDATE: This was a couple weeks ago. I gleaned the beautiful young feminist’s email from a group message we all got after the training. From that I quickly learned that she is about 26 and got married last year. And has cats. 🙂 Egged on by a couple friends, I replied all to the email and expressed my enthusiasm for what she and another woman had said. But contrary to my friends’ predictions, I never heard from her–in the group or individually. So it’s a good thing I didn’t try to flirt with or date her. She is still beautiful.

The Case of Liz C (2002-2016)

I’m going to tell you a story.

In 2002, a very attractive young woman moved into an apartment down the hall from me. Like most of us who went to DC from elsewhere, she was smart, driven, ambitious, and successful. She had a neat job working on a public broadcast show I really like. I developed a crush on her. But for some reason she never seemed to be around, and I hardly ever ran into her in the building. Once each in the elevator and laundry room, but this is when I was still extremely shy. Of course she never said anything to me either. For weeks I did my laundry at the same time and day hoping to see her again, but no luck.

I was on the Board of Directors of the building, and for a while in 2003 we had an idiotic president who attacked me on the building’s email listserv. Not long after that, this girl came up to me in the Metro one morning as I was waiting for my Red Line train and said she strongly supported me, before quickly leaving for the other end of the platform. It was a nice boost, and I took it to mean she actually knew who I was. I resolved to ask her out. And I did. Or at least I thought I did. I believe I sent her an email, since I never got a chance to see her in person despite living about 60 feet apart. I told my therapist and was advised that I may not have been clear enough, and the girl may not have realized what I was asking. So I got a greeting card, asked her out more explicitly in pen, and slid it under her door. At the same time, unbeknownst to me, a friend in the building who saw her a lot told her what a great guy I was and suggested she go out with me. This surely looked coordinated or creepy, and I never heard a peep from her. Shortly after that, I noticed on Friendster that she added a boyfriend.

A few years later, in Montreal, I was watching the show she worked on when the host announced her departure and recognized her on air. I sent her a short email of well wishes. No response.

In 2014 I saw on Facebook that she was back home, in the Pacific Northwest. I sent her a short message apologizing for the clumsy/creepy ask out attempt, pointed out several things we had in common, and wished her a Merry Christmas. No response (Facebook showed that she saw my message).

This April, after basically giving up on Facebook and caring who knows what or expecting anything here, I sent her a friend request. To my shock, she accepted it. I messaged her to thank her and said I was pleasantly surprised. No response (again, Facebook showed that she saw my message).

I learned that she is back in DC and about a year older than me. And still very attractive. My heart sank when I saw a post she made about Linked In and said it suggested ex-boyfriends as connections to her. I have no exes, nor money or a successful career or popularity like her. She never interacted with any of my posts, so I tried to comment very sparingly on hers. There weren’t many. She only ever responded to a remark about food (Kerrygold makes the best butter; Tilamook is best at ice cream). Then I noticed that she had deleted me. I messaged her to ask if I’d offended her. No response.

This is just another classic example of what happens to me in trying to date–I never had a chance. None of it is in my control or influence. I am almost always ignored, led on, or rejected–and I can’t change any of those. I can’t even get any kind of explanation. I don’t think there’s anything more or different I could have done; she simply never interacted with me. I am just not wanted; I am a surplus man in a culture where men are the demand, and women are the supply. Yes, that is crass and horrible. Yes, that is economic and capitalist. But it is true. There is nothing I can do and no hope of getting my needs met.

Most people don’t care, a few would like to help but can’t, and a tiny fraction of those will admit it (and then usually disappear). The King County-funded crisis clinic laughs at you and hangs up on you. The health clinics that take Medicaid have no one who knows autism. The support groups are for kids and their parents. The autism people at Children’s Hospital only help low-functioning adults and refuse out-of-hand to address dating. The UW autism center only does medication management and will not replicate a UCLA program since Washington and California autism researchers are rivals. The autism and Asperger’s websites, Meetup groups, and Facebook pages refuse to touch any question about relationships or sexuality. Same for the more general disability ones. The ones on sex education, research, and positivity won’t touch anything on people with disabilities. Tim Burgess, the former cop and closet Puritan who falsely conflates sex work and sex trafficking, keeps increasing penalties on “soliciting”. He has the ableist privilege and lack of empathy to assume everyone who pays for sex is a criminal who should be maximally punished. His office will not answer questions about people in my situation, he will not adjust any of his positions or policies, and he won’t read any of the books or watch any of the movies I’ve asked him to. If you’re suicidal, people call 911, which sends the police out to re-traumatize you, and potentially you get locked up as an inmate in a social service hospital. They won’t do anything to PREVENT suicidality–they won’t even listen to WHY your life is hell or what could make it better. On the contrary, they’ll complain that they don’t want to hear from you even if you’re answering their call to supposedly check on your suicidality. It’s a program that’s typically Seattle–pretty window dressing that does nothing substantive or helpful. So we are stuck. This is life in America in 2016.

P.S. I’m getting more matches on Tinder since changing my height to 6’3″ and saying I drive a Ferrari and have a trust fund.