So, I've come to a point where I hate commercialism with an undying passion.
I hate the fact that the land is being developed to make way for more Buffalo Wild Wings. I go into buffalo wild wings. They just sell buffalo wings. Food you don't need. Not a particularly social atmosphere. Wasted face for shoveling food you probably would be better off not eating down your throat.
I also could never go into sales. Whatever the product, I'm not going to want to convince someone to buy it. Dude, they need their money. They don't have a lot of it. What am I supposed to do, convince them they want to buy Herbalife? Herbalife doesn't even work on most people. Convince them they want to buy Mary Kay cosmetics? Right, like I would try to convince someone to buy makeup.
After awhile, I get tired. We are just cutting down the nation's trees, the world's resources, to make way for more Buffalo Wild Wings. I hate Buffalo Wild WIngs. And even worse, Target. Or Bed Bath & BEYOND!!
This nation has a problem with depression. Maybe we should teach people to relate to others better? Maybe we should replace these awful businesses with social activities? Anyway, I don't know if that's a solution. I would pay my money to talk to someone.
And that's it. Lately, commercialism in the United States of America is disgusting me. I don't know what these people want, but they are not going to find it at Buffalo Wild Wings.
Saturday, October 21, 2017
Saturday, October 14, 2017
Boyfriend Problem
So my problem right now is, I am lonely and horny. I have no one.
It's a sad life. I do things, I see things, I go places... but no sex or boys ever. The whole world is sex and boy less.
So where do we take the world on after this stage? The land of the sex free, the land of the putrid scum Donald Trump.
So, rather than look to the man on TV for comfort, where do we turn? No where! We have nothing!
Very good, Samantha!
It's a sad life. I do things, I see things, I go places... but no sex or boys ever. The whole world is sex and boy less.
So where do we take the world on after this stage? The land of the sex free, the land of the putrid scum Donald Trump.
So, rather than look to the man on TV for comfort, where do we turn? No where! We have nothing!
Very good, Samantha!
Sunday, September 3, 2017
Why Rape Is Funny (JUST KIDDING!!!!)
Early on in my career as a savant to the spirit guides, I stumbled across a video linked on Facebook titled "Why Rape Is Funny." It was an actor, making fun of his male experience as a 13 year old boy with raging hormones, being seduced by an attractive female gorgeous drop dead in the gorgeous way teacher. He explained, "Well yeah, I wanted her. Well yeah, I REALLY wanted her." And yeah it made me feel good, I had an orgasm, it was fun kind of. But the emotional issues that ensued ruined my life.
And at this moment you ask, "Did it really ruin your life?" And he said yes. But no, I still have hobbies and stuff. Which indicates, yeah, but there is a propensity towards CHANGE!!!!
Anyway, this guy is an obvious optimist. So while I had that idea already, yeah, underage even male sex with teachers causes serious very serious emotional issues, I understood that yeah he wanted it too not even but yeah. And that's when his guides came in and started speaking to me! Really badly no, but yeah, here are the psychological factors he went through at the same time. So, basically, he wanted her badly, but it wasn't worth his emotional security.
And that indicated to me that yeah, even though this is still an underrated scenario, this guy was serious. PLEASE DON'T TAKE ADVANTAGE OF UNDERAGE MEN EITHER WOMEN! I seriously wasn't ready. And it gives me this feeling like, yeah, I got what I wanted. And YEAH! IT WAS EXACTLY WHAT I DIDN'T NEED!
And that creates a psychological factor. It plants a belief, firmly held or little held at all, which means not very much but it is up to the person to decide how firmly they hold this belief but it's really really hard to make the right decision, so it is variable. That yeah, everything I want will cause me emotional harm. WHICH WREAKS HAVOC! On what? E M O T I O N A L S E C U R I T Y!
Everything you want will make you have issues.
So yeah, after a discussion with THAT MAN'S! spirit guides, I understood. Please don't take advantage of underage males.
P. S. THE WAY THAT GUY TALKS IN THE VIDEO IS THE SAME WAY PEOPLE WHO ARE GOOD COMMUNICATE ON A SUBCONSCIOUS LEVEL!
P. S. This post is given a tremendous amount of lee way, granted by the United States Government under President Trump, for creativity that does not indicate mental illness
Rachel Zuhl
Signed but someone did not sign at all!
And at this moment you ask, "Did it really ruin your life?" And he said yes. But no, I still have hobbies and stuff. Which indicates, yeah, but there is a propensity towards CHANGE!!!!
Anyway, this guy is an obvious optimist. So while I had that idea already, yeah, underage even male sex with teachers causes serious very serious emotional issues, I understood that yeah he wanted it too not even but yeah. And that's when his guides came in and started speaking to me! Really badly no, but yeah, here are the psychological factors he went through at the same time. So, basically, he wanted her badly, but it wasn't worth his emotional security.
And that indicated to me that yeah, even though this is still an underrated scenario, this guy was serious. PLEASE DON'T TAKE ADVANTAGE OF UNDERAGE MEN EITHER WOMEN! I seriously wasn't ready. And it gives me this feeling like, yeah, I got what I wanted. And YEAH! IT WAS EXACTLY WHAT I DIDN'T NEED!
And that creates a psychological factor. It plants a belief, firmly held or little held at all, which means not very much but it is up to the person to decide how firmly they hold this belief but it's really really hard to make the right decision, so it is variable. That yeah, everything I want will cause me emotional harm. WHICH WREAKS HAVOC! On what? E M O T I O N A L S E C U R I T Y!
Everything you want will make you have issues.
So yeah, after a discussion with THAT MAN'S! spirit guides, I understood. Please don't take advantage of underage males.
P. S. THE WAY THAT GUY TALKS IN THE VIDEO IS THE SAME WAY PEOPLE WHO ARE GOOD COMMUNICATE ON A SUBCONSCIOUS LEVEL!
P. S. This post is given a tremendous amount of lee way, granted by the United States Government under President Trump, for creativity that does not indicate mental illness
Rachel Zuhl
Signed but someone did not sign at all!
Wednesday, May 24, 2017
Innercept and my Parents: You Don't Know, We Do
There is an issue between me and my parents regarding them and respect. First, they slap a guardianship on my the first chance they got. So bam, you got a mental illness, now we are legally your parents for the rest of your life.
Then, here comes Innercept. I go to this treatment center off in North Idaho, one where well-off parents typically send their kids just to get them off their hands. "Your parents love you so much!" This is what I heard from every single staff member who talked to my parents.
Every single phone call when the staff members were out of ear shot, every single home visit, every single time I spent time with them off Innercept campus. I told my parents, this place isn't really going to help me. You are spending lots and lots of money for an incredibly shitty product. What my mom always said to me was, "BUT YOU'RE WORTH IT RACHEL!" And what my dad always said to me was, "there is something special about the environment there that aids recovery. Just wait, you'll see."
This is the thing that gets me. We do not respect you, Rachel. You tell us we are wasting your money, we don't believe you for one second. Instead, we are spending our entire life savings on helping you. THIS IS AN INVESTMENT IN YOUR FUTURE!
I'm looking at this program and I'm like, seriously, how will this help me? What are we doing in this program that isn't a complete waste of time? The groups consist of, talking about the same subject over and over again. There are way too many conversations about collusion. Way to many conversations about anger management. It's kind of soothing hearing that guy get excited about the same story over and over again, but still. What is this place doing to help me in any way at all? Absolutely nothing! And my parents look at me and say, Rachel, you are mentally ill. We do not trust your judgment at all, even for one second. We know better than you. You think this place isn't going to help? Right! We read the brochure! This place is outstanding!
Instead, we sit around, talking about the four quadrants over and over again. Here's what goes in the upper left hand quadrant. Thoughts and feelings that no one else can see. Here, this is what goes up in the upper right hand quadrants, things about your inner state that other people can see. Down in the lower right hand quadrant goes, obvious physical things, like dogs and trees in the environment. In the lower right left hand quadrant goes, shared values.
I remember doing this exercise, over and over again, for everything you can think of, from Paris Hilton to my pet dog.
Does this exercise have any applicable value in the real world? Nope. Just something we like to do at Innercept.
BUT IT WAS THE MENTAL ILLNESS EDUCATION RACHEL! My mom says to me. That's what helped you.
Right, mental illness education. Biggest joke I have ever heard of in my entire life. Every time I try to locate any sort of mental illness education I got at Innercept in my mind, I draw a complete blank. People urge me and urge me to read books on bipolar disorder. Like if I read one, there will be this very strong clicking noise in my brain I will immediately understand that this is the mental illness I have. No more hiding anymore, I am bipolar.
Like I don't understand already what bipolar disorder looks like. Seriously, it's not that hard to understand.
My dad admitted to me, we have no money for retirement. We get sick of paying my sister's rent because we are trying as hard as we can to save up for retirement. My parents are in their mid sixties now. My dad made an incredibly large sum of money early on in his career helping start up a tech company. Where did all that money go?
I tell them, as clearly as I possibly can, this treatment center you went to, please pull me out and don't waste your money. They look at me and say, your judgment is off Rachel, we are spending every dime we have on this place because it's an investment in your future. I'm looking at them and thinking, you people are my legal guardians? GET ME OUT!
What does this place cost? Ten grand a month? How long was I there? Four and a half years? Misleading, because different stages of the program cost different sums of money. But not really, because a place in the program called stabilization costs a lot more and they send you there at the drop of a hat.
On top of that, my parents are worried about my sister. My mom looks at me with sad eyes and says, we do not have enough money to send her to a treatment center like Innercept.
What is with you people and expensive prisons? You admitted to me you thought Innercept was a scam. You think I am so out of the loop I don't know you people really badly don't have that much money anymore? And right, you would do the same thing all over again with Kristen. You admitted to me you thought Innercept was a scam. It did not help. But hey, every case is different, right?
So this is the situation with Rachel Zuhl. We do not trust your judgment. You can't tell us this treatment center will be ineffective, we know better. You can't trust your own judgment, Rachel. We keep telling you that. We don't trust it, you shouldn't either.
And every time I hear this, there is a song lyric that goes through my head. The lyric is "How can I be sure I'm here?" The song is Fear of a Blank Planet by Porcupine Tree.
And as I sit here, the chanting in my head grows stronger and stronger. RACHEL ZUHL! RACHEL ZUHL! RACHEL FUCKING ZUHL!
You can tell me as many times as I want not to trust my own judgment. I still do. Till the day I die, I will never doubt my own judgment. The people whose judgment I doubt is my parents.
That's the legend of the angry blond for you.
Then, here comes Innercept. I go to this treatment center off in North Idaho, one where well-off parents typically send their kids just to get them off their hands. "Your parents love you so much!" This is what I heard from every single staff member who talked to my parents.
Every single phone call when the staff members were out of ear shot, every single home visit, every single time I spent time with them off Innercept campus. I told my parents, this place isn't really going to help me. You are spending lots and lots of money for an incredibly shitty product. What my mom always said to me was, "BUT YOU'RE WORTH IT RACHEL!" And what my dad always said to me was, "there is something special about the environment there that aids recovery. Just wait, you'll see."
This is the thing that gets me. We do not respect you, Rachel. You tell us we are wasting your money, we don't believe you for one second. Instead, we are spending our entire life savings on helping you. THIS IS AN INVESTMENT IN YOUR FUTURE!
I'm looking at this program and I'm like, seriously, how will this help me? What are we doing in this program that isn't a complete waste of time? The groups consist of, talking about the same subject over and over again. There are way too many conversations about collusion. Way to many conversations about anger management. It's kind of soothing hearing that guy get excited about the same story over and over again, but still. What is this place doing to help me in any way at all? Absolutely nothing! And my parents look at me and say, Rachel, you are mentally ill. We do not trust your judgment at all, even for one second. We know better than you. You think this place isn't going to help? Right! We read the brochure! This place is outstanding!
Instead, we sit around, talking about the four quadrants over and over again. Here's what goes in the upper left hand quadrant. Thoughts and feelings that no one else can see. Here, this is what goes up in the upper right hand quadrants, things about your inner state that other people can see. Down in the lower right hand quadrant goes, obvious physical things, like dogs and trees in the environment. In the lower right left hand quadrant goes, shared values.
I remember doing this exercise, over and over again, for everything you can think of, from Paris Hilton to my pet dog.
Does this exercise have any applicable value in the real world? Nope. Just something we like to do at Innercept.
BUT IT WAS THE MENTAL ILLNESS EDUCATION RACHEL! My mom says to me. That's what helped you.
Right, mental illness education. Biggest joke I have ever heard of in my entire life. Every time I try to locate any sort of mental illness education I got at Innercept in my mind, I draw a complete blank. People urge me and urge me to read books on bipolar disorder. Like if I read one, there will be this very strong clicking noise in my brain I will immediately understand that this is the mental illness I have. No more hiding anymore, I am bipolar.
Like I don't understand already what bipolar disorder looks like. Seriously, it's not that hard to understand.
My dad admitted to me, we have no money for retirement. We get sick of paying my sister's rent because we are trying as hard as we can to save up for retirement. My parents are in their mid sixties now. My dad made an incredibly large sum of money early on in his career helping start up a tech company. Where did all that money go?
I tell them, as clearly as I possibly can, this treatment center you went to, please pull me out and don't waste your money. They look at me and say, your judgment is off Rachel, we are spending every dime we have on this place because it's an investment in your future. I'm looking at them and thinking, you people are my legal guardians? GET ME OUT!
What does this place cost? Ten grand a month? How long was I there? Four and a half years? Misleading, because different stages of the program cost different sums of money. But not really, because a place in the program called stabilization costs a lot more and they send you there at the drop of a hat.
On top of that, my parents are worried about my sister. My mom looks at me with sad eyes and says, we do not have enough money to send her to a treatment center like Innercept.
What is with you people and expensive prisons? You admitted to me you thought Innercept was a scam. You think I am so out of the loop I don't know you people really badly don't have that much money anymore? And right, you would do the same thing all over again with Kristen. You admitted to me you thought Innercept was a scam. It did not help. But hey, every case is different, right?
So this is the situation with Rachel Zuhl. We do not trust your judgment. You can't tell us this treatment center will be ineffective, we know better. You can't trust your own judgment, Rachel. We keep telling you that. We don't trust it, you shouldn't either.
And every time I hear this, there is a song lyric that goes through my head. The lyric is "How can I be sure I'm here?" The song is Fear of a Blank Planet by Porcupine Tree.
And as I sit here, the chanting in my head grows stronger and stronger. RACHEL ZUHL! RACHEL ZUHL! RACHEL FUCKING ZUHL!
You can tell me as many times as I want not to trust my own judgment. I still do. Till the day I die, I will never doubt my own judgment. The people whose judgment I doubt is my parents.
That's the legend of the angry blond for you.
Thursday, April 13, 2017
The Mental Weakness and Suggestibility that Comes With Being Forced into Treatment
So, one time, when I was a kid, I was going home from a treatment center that was full of shit. My parents didn't tell me that we had another flight.
They didn't tell me we had another flight.
I was told, Rachel, this is for your own good.
After awhile, I was forced to take medications that gave me correctable brain damage. After awhile, I was forced to take medication that made me a walking zombie. After awhile, I was put in a lifestyle that forced me more intensely into suicidal depression.
So what happens is, this is psychotropic paradise. When the Scientologist enters the picture, we flip. But then what? What do we do after we flip the fuck out, parents? Can you do anything about it? Can you dumb me down with Depakote and force me to accept that brain damage happens when you refuse to accept you have a mental illness?
After awhile, the guides enter the picture. And with the guides.... The guides are good. The guides are great. The guides would never do anything to wrong me. But with this situation comes a certain really fucking intense sense of apathy, like, I would follow anyone, follow anyone, agree to anything from that person, get raped day in and day out by that person, in and out, in and out, in and in and in and out, as long as it didn't mean submitting to brain damage medication.
And then I hear a word from them, like, Rachel. It wasn't Geodon! It was the drugs you took on the street! It's like, right. I know. Do you think I am fucking stupid? Do you think I am so out of touch with myself I don't know how I appear to the outside world? I remember the steady decline that came from me taking Geodon. I remember, how every time the I told my doctor to take me fucking off the stuff, he gave me a stern look and told me this was the best we could do. Right. Like a medication that actually causes mood swings, that causes me to sit around the house and laugh to myself for hours on end, is the best we can do. What was the underlying condition again? How bad was I before I was on meds? Sure, I wasn't doing anything. Lost in a constant stream of thoughts. Big life events require careful scrutiny. And the thing I notice is, you told me once that YOU understood the initial episode better than me because you saw it from a balanced perspective. Right! Like you understand anything at all about it. It was life changing. You tell me, forget about it and take your fucking pills.
After awhile, you start to realize, anyone that doesn't force brain damage causing medication down my throat, who doesn't threaten to inject me with it if I refuse, is my friend. And that could be, the drug addict on the street, the Scientologist in Coeur d'Alene, the spirit guides on the other side.
It's a relationship of tough love with the spirits. But then again, the parental situation makes me feel numb in the head. Sure, they love me. But do they know how? Do they know how to love? I think, without fail... The worst my guides can do is the best my parents can do.
So without fail, we stretch our mental muscle and encompass the universe in apathy. It's like, whatever?
They didn't tell me we had another flight.
I was told, Rachel, this is for your own good.
After awhile, I was forced to take medications that gave me correctable brain damage. After awhile, I was forced to take medication that made me a walking zombie. After awhile, I was put in a lifestyle that forced me more intensely into suicidal depression.
So what happens is, this is psychotropic paradise. When the Scientologist enters the picture, we flip. But then what? What do we do after we flip the fuck out, parents? Can you do anything about it? Can you dumb me down with Depakote and force me to accept that brain damage happens when you refuse to accept you have a mental illness?
After awhile, the guides enter the picture. And with the guides.... The guides are good. The guides are great. The guides would never do anything to wrong me. But with this situation comes a certain really fucking intense sense of apathy, like, I would follow anyone, follow anyone, agree to anything from that person, get raped day in and day out by that person, in and out, in and out, in and in and in and out, as long as it didn't mean submitting to brain damage medication.
And then I hear a word from them, like, Rachel. It wasn't Geodon! It was the drugs you took on the street! It's like, right. I know. Do you think I am fucking stupid? Do you think I am so out of touch with myself I don't know how I appear to the outside world? I remember the steady decline that came from me taking Geodon. I remember, how every time the I told my doctor to take me fucking off the stuff, he gave me a stern look and told me this was the best we could do. Right. Like a medication that actually causes mood swings, that causes me to sit around the house and laugh to myself for hours on end, is the best we can do. What was the underlying condition again? How bad was I before I was on meds? Sure, I wasn't doing anything. Lost in a constant stream of thoughts. Big life events require careful scrutiny. And the thing I notice is, you told me once that YOU understood the initial episode better than me because you saw it from a balanced perspective. Right! Like you understand anything at all about it. It was life changing. You tell me, forget about it and take your fucking pills.
After awhile, you start to realize, anyone that doesn't force brain damage causing medication down my throat, who doesn't threaten to inject me with it if I refuse, is my friend. And that could be, the drug addict on the street, the Scientologist in Coeur d'Alene, the spirit guides on the other side.
It's a relationship of tough love with the spirits. But then again, the parental situation makes me feel numb in the head. Sure, they love me. But do they know how? Do they know how to love? I think, without fail... The worst my guides can do is the best my parents can do.
So without fail, we stretch our mental muscle and encompass the universe in apathy. It's like, whatever?
Thursday, February 16, 2017
For The Love Of God, Don't Tell Me They Understand My Issues
So, there is something like circular logic in the house of Zuhl. First off, I am diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Then, my mom goes out and reads a bunch of books about bipolar disorder. Ones with titles like, "We Heard the Angels of Madness." Now, all of a sudden, she understands what I am going through!
Please, do yourself a favor. Do not, for the love of fucking God, ever tell me you fucking understand a single damn thing I have been through. You do not. Notice, we do not talk. Oh? You didn't notice? We never talk about a damn thing I have been through. There is a reason. I don't trust you. Don't think you could handle it.
I find it very offensive when you tell me about some sort of group home you are looking into, because you don't like my current living arrangement. You tell me, the staff understand your issues!
Yeah, and I'm sure the staff know all about fish out of water psychology. I'm sure that is a common issue amongst bipolar patients.
I remember, in the past, my mother used to beg and beg for me to read books on bipolar disorder. I actually have, on quite a few occasions. On the most recent occasion, I was reading a book that she liked. It was interesting, but described nothing about me. That's the thing about all these bipolar books. They describe nothing about me. I don't relate at all to any of the issues the main characters have.
After I told my mom this, she got so upset. She took the book away and forbid me to read any more books on bipolar disorder. Just like that. After years of trying to get me to read one.
So I say this now.... The second you say someone understands what I'm going through, you have fucking lost me. And the second you try to get me to explain it to them, you've lost me too.
You don't get to know. You don't get to find someone who can help. THIS IS A PRIVATE ISSUE BETWEEN ME AND MY SPIRIT GUIDES. Butt the fuck out and there is no way I am going off to live in some mental illness group home.
Please, do yourself a favor. Do not, for the love of fucking God, ever tell me you fucking understand a single damn thing I have been through. You do not. Notice, we do not talk. Oh? You didn't notice? We never talk about a damn thing I have been through. There is a reason. I don't trust you. Don't think you could handle it.
I find it very offensive when you tell me about some sort of group home you are looking into, because you don't like my current living arrangement. You tell me, the staff understand your issues!
Yeah, and I'm sure the staff know all about fish out of water psychology. I'm sure that is a common issue amongst bipolar patients.
I remember, in the past, my mother used to beg and beg for me to read books on bipolar disorder. I actually have, on quite a few occasions. On the most recent occasion, I was reading a book that she liked. It was interesting, but described nothing about me. That's the thing about all these bipolar books. They describe nothing about me. I don't relate at all to any of the issues the main characters have.
After I told my mom this, she got so upset. She took the book away and forbid me to read any more books on bipolar disorder. Just like that. After years of trying to get me to read one.
So I say this now.... The second you say someone understands what I'm going through, you have fucking lost me. And the second you try to get me to explain it to them, you've lost me too.
You don't get to know. You don't get to find someone who can help. THIS IS A PRIVATE ISSUE BETWEEN ME AND MY SPIRIT GUIDES. Butt the fuck out and there is no way I am going off to live in some mental illness group home.
Thursday, February 2, 2017
What Do I Desire?
What is the answer I seek? Why have I stopped doing philosophy? Where did my philosophical side go?
My goal is no longer knowledge. My quest is no longer for knowledge. I no longer have to use my brain all the time to think up quiet thoughts that bark at the problem. The problem is, what is the solution to the questions of life? I have no desire to know? What do I desire?
That's a good question. I want to be attractive, that's what I said. I want to make an impact and stop global warming from happening, that's good. What else would I like to do? I would like to exist in a state that transcends the norm, and become more, and better and drive the fleeting passion upwards!
Then, one comes down for a second. What do I desire? For myself? Is that what I desire? Or, should I ask another question... What do I desire to experience? Because, if all is well, never will I have an experience that doesn't make me think I am going closer to the goal. Is it to touch others in a real way? Yes, but is that all? What is the goal?
Do spirits worry about this? And they tell me, yes. The goal, they say, is growth. The goal is to move on to the next dimension. Upwards, moving upwards... They are always trying to grow because that's the nature of spirits. Not fun, growth.
If I had a candle, I would not light the candle. The last thing I want to do is start a fire. If I could only understand the reasoning behind elven mysteries... (blank stares and boos)
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