I don’t remember much of it now, but I served as a cadet between April 2005 and February 2006. I wonder if it contributed to my breakdown.
I remember the warrant officer saying while I was on drill ‘something’s wrong with that cadet.’ I remember another warrant officer saying ‘I’m going to murder you.’
I’m glad to have that cadet experience. It taught me not to join the real army.
I remember a lot of shouting done by the senior cadets at the junior cadets. I even was involved in a car crash where I got a minor laceration to the side of my head! It was the CO’s fault that the car crashed at wide bay training area.
My mum was particularly angry with the CO because of that. I told him to give her a call, to explain what exactly happened in that car.
Maybe the minor laceration also contributed to my schizophrenia.
I actually liked the CO. He did shout at the cadet squadron once, after the car crash. He was stressed out of his brains.
I did not want to sue him. As it is written ‘turn the other cheek.’ I’m paying for the consequences up to this date. But I might of received all this because I’m a bad person, who used to bully people in primary and high school.
Well, I was hoping I wasn’t going manic. On some days, I am feeling really stressed, with a painful feeling in my chest, on other days, I seem to talk too much.
Usually my problems compound after the 3rd week of being on the depot. My depot is currently set for every 4 weeks, but according to a mental health professional, the depot should stay in my system for at least 5 weeks. But it is recommended I at least take my depot every 28 days.
I was watching something about Johnny Bravo being an incel on YouTube. It lifted my spirits and gave me something to laugh at. I am not the ‘King’ of the incels, I’m just a medicated incel, so hopefully I won’t get angry at anybody. I keenly remember the wrong things said to me by other people when I’m in a sour mood.
Medication is a great chemical lobotomy. It prevents me from expressing extreme emotion. It is like an emotional flattener.
The world could do with more humility. I am glad to be a limited example of humility to others in my life and at church. But it is more of a lobotomy than true humility. Anyway, back to my life of being an incel. Ciao!
I hope that if Australia goes to war in WW3, I won’t get called upon to serve. I have 7 months worth of cadet experience in a training facility in Brisbane. I served there when I was manic. I hated it. It probably contributed to my schizophrenia.
The best thing about being in cadets was I learnt to appreciate the other 6 days of the week when I wasn’t at cadets. Cadets normally occurred once a week on a Friday. I was so skinny back then from stress.
I do not support the war in Ukraine, nor the Russian military draft. Putin has a big ego…
I have delusions that I am a Saint. I also have delusions that I will go to hell, although that might not be so much of a delusion.
Since I have so much pride, I certainly will not be able to access God’s healing presence. Nothing casts out God’s spirit than pride. Maybe I’m wrong, I’d love to hear everybody’s input.
Bishop Fulton Sheen said in one of his books that the proud man can not receive God’s mysteries, as he tramples God under foot. That’s why I try to do all the good I can, so that when I die, I may have a comprehension of my own nothingness, and my inability to do any good apart from God. Jesus said ‘apart from me, you can do nothing.’
Oh yeah, Bishop Fulton Sheen said that mental disorders may be caused by unresolved guilt. Although I’ve confessed most of my sins to Orthodox priests, I still feel guilty.
Sorry, I have no content worthy of mentioning. I feel a bit slow today.
In my personal opinion, online trolling on YouTube is a lot worse than trolling on qq or wechat. Qq and wechat are Chinese social media platforms.
In the Chinese messaging systems, you know who the trolls are. I treated them like family, until they decided to show explicit sexual images to me. Then I block them. But otherwise I’d be able to bless those who cursed me. It is more difficult to bless people in real than online, as people in real could hit you.
I haven’t become holy enough to ‘turn the other cheek’. But I have reduced a large portion of my ego online. Oh, the trolls would carry on! They make fun of my disabilities, even saying that I can ‘snap out of it.’ How they don’t understand mental illness!
But otherwise, I’d say statements like ‘forgive me, it is all my fault,’ ‘yes, yes, these accusations are just and true,’ or ‘have mercy on me.’ I learnt these things somewhere on Orthodoxy online.
But trolling is a lot worse on YouTube. They know English well, so they can have unlimited narcissism.
I might be good at talking about myself, but maybe I’m not so good at choosing titles for blog articles.
My mom said when I first came out of the mental institute in 2006 I could only talk about 2 things: Japanese girls and religion. Now I can only talk about one thing: myself.
I remember the cruelty with which I treated fellow students in primary and high school. I hallucinated insults coming from their mouths, when in fact they might of said nothing at all.
The other kids at primary school weren’t violent, and the kids at high school would of left me alone if I kept to myself and minded my own business. The ladies would of been more comfortable if I stayed in my own little corner than try to interact with them.
I was doing tai chi, tae kwon do, air force cadets and high school just before I broke down. Fancy that. I had so much going for me, yet I ended up jobless on a disability support pension. Sure shows how life can turn out for some people.
For some reason, I can touch my toes. My legs don’t look 100% straight. And my back is bent wayyyy over.
I might upload a video of me doing push ups, to see how many I can do on extra medication. In the description of this YouTube video, I list what meds I’m on.
Meds slow me down, but they prevent me from going manic and becoming violent. I still haven’t learnt how to truly forgive. Each day, I think about the bad things that have happened to me. Not deliberately, they just pop into my mind out of nowhere.
This is roughly how I look. I am not flexible compared to people who do regular martial arts classes. However, I am more flexible than my mom and dad, who are in their 60s. What an achievement.
I am on the disability support pension for psychiatric impairment. I do have a slow metabolism. The reason I don’t lose weight is because the medication gives me an appetite. At my slow metabolic rate, I have to go a day without eating in order to lose weight. I pretty much have to starve myself.
Starving myself is not fun, unless I have no appetite caused by medication reduction and subsequent stress. If I go off my anti-depressant, but stay on my depot injection of anti-psychotics, then I will hear voices in the background in my room from out the window. It will give the illusion that the neighbours are constantly talking about me. But now I know it is just my sickness.
My mind doesn’t play tricks on me so much now, otherwise I wouldn’t even go to the shopping mall with my support worker, as I’d be so afraid of the voices.