[uh-amer i kuh n idee hut]: The title refers to the state of the United States at that point in time. It speaks of a nation controlled by the new, biased media, and how the singer is not part of a “Redneck Agenda” discontent with how things are going. It was released during the 2004 presidential campaign, where George W. Bush was re-elected.

 

The House Got Has Forgotten Part 6: There was a terrorist among you.

There are two important things a writer always loves:

Making people think.

Getting their ego boosted.

So even the people the people that love to be tragic artists and live off the fact they are doing it for their “craft” they still enjoy the compliments. Trust me. I do. It makes me blush and feel like a superhero in my own way.

So… you read the title of this post and you are wondering who the terrorist is that was among you while you were diligently working the corridors?

That terrorist was me.

Not many people are left in The House That God Has Forgotten remember me back in the day, but I was a monster. I screamed at you. I screamed at you so much that I do not even remember screaming at you. That is how awful I was.

That has all changed. Since the medicine.

You see I am bipolar (used to be called manic depressive).

When I first started working when The House That God Has Forgotten I was fine tuned and as sharp as a steel blade (not to say I am not now, but I am much careful than I was before). Everyone however paid the price for my reckless behaviour. They got their ass handed to them on a platter.

I would not be a mean girl, or a newbie, or a cheerleader or anything else I described. I had my own category and that was Terrorist.

I was a very good terrorist.

You fought with me, and the match would end with us screaming at each other and me hating you and vice versa. I was a master manipulator at pushing people’s buttons and it made me feel proud.

I drowned in the glory of being the bitch of The House That God Has Forgotten.

It has been a long road to get to where I am now, the girl that says hello to everyone on the elevator and the one that tries to smile to every face she sees. I am a happy person. I enjoy making new work friends to talk to.

My story begins long before I started Working At The House God Has Forgotten. For me it started as a teenager. My angst and depression were seen as something a teenager “goes through” and to be honest, my parents had their own issues at the time so they were not really there to notice (sorry mom and dad).

I tried to kill myself once, I saved up about 30 prescription pain killers and took them with a glass of vodka. I was upset that my scores on my university entrance exam were too low to get into the school I wanted (only 10 points!) to go to.

So I took the pills and the vodka. In my case, I threw them up. My parents got made mad me for making too much noise.

I did fantasise about killing myself more often than not, but after that disaster I never luckily went there again. Me throwing up saved my life in one way that I will forever be grateful.

When I eventually went to college. I was manic. I could stay up all night and party and then the next day write long papers and get excellent grades (surprise! I was an English major! I wanted to be a writer). I got scholarships, and I got offered more scholarships. But on a whim (a manic one) I joined the army and signed myself up for a five year contract.

Being in the army is an excellent job for someone that can stay up all night and scream at other people, so I was great at my job. No one ever questioned my behaviour.

No one ever challenged me until I started working at The House That God Has Forgotten.

My daughter was born and I had a breakdown. Life was not good for me. I was very depressed and still without a diagnosis. Until one day I had a breakdown on my ex wife’s living room floor. She called the emergency psychiatric line and a doctor urged me to come in. A guy I know, a colleague dropped everything and spent the day and night with me (I will never forgot what you did and you know who you are).

Things were still bad for me. I dreamed of jumping in front of commuter trains putting bags over my head and taking all the oxygen out of my lungs. I drank bottles of vodka.

But it was two colleagues who called one night to the boss of operations (vakthavande) and told them they were worried about me. That he needed to call me just that night to see if I was OK. they knew something was wrong, before I even did. (They I will never forget either).

So even being a terrorist of The House That God Has Forgotten I had great people in my corner.

The medicines started eventually. Anti depressants (which make bipolar people manic) and narcotics, but along the whole way my friends in the central guard always had my back. They listened and they treated me normally. It made me still feel like a whole person.

Then it became the medicines that made me pass out, the medicines that made me shake, the medicines that were used for people that are in major car crashes (and are an absolute bitch to stop taking cold turkey might I add. For the life of God NEVER take Lyrica).

It was new doctors, until I finally found the right one. But still it caused problems. I got put on too high dosage of another medicine and my colleagues did not know what to do. Until one day I got called to the 4th floor and a boss, or shall I say at this point was a leader and he sent me home and offered me a ride there if I needed it. (that I will never forget either).

I came out pretty early that I was bipolar to everyone. Because I wanted to make the point that I know others are probably in the closed with their mental illness and that it is nothing to be ashamed of in The House That God Has Forgotten.

I did not want “I am so sorry” when I told people I was sick. I just wanted them to learn and stop calling people with my illness as “crazy”.

Sometimes I regret that decision. I have paid a very BIG price for it professionally. They call my doctor once a year to see if I can work in the security business (the government also requires that once a year I have to prove from my doctor that I am mentally stable to drive a car).

I don’t apply for jobs in The House That God Has Forgotten because I am afraid that I will not get them. (not saying that this is true by the way, but it is how I feel). Sometimes I get asked personal questions about my medicines and if I take them (which I do religiously two times a day).

People see calmness for depression, which it actually is just being me. They see how I am as being strange or showing who I am for all the wrong reasons. (I don’t talk much when the boss is around because it is not what we do where I come from. They are an authority figure, we do not even say there first name to them).

I can feel very violated. Sometimes it makes me feel like The House That God Has Forgotten liked me better as a terrorist than a person who is stable and has control of their emotions.

I made a decision to move floors 6 months ago because I was not healthy. I was over stressed and did not feel good when I came home from work and it was effecting me not only at work, but at home too.

So I decided to do what was healthy for me, but I lost one of my favourite parts of my job and that was teaching new people.

I want so badly sometimes to be more than what I am in The House That God Has Forgotten, but sadly I think they like the terrorist a little more than they do the new me.

Also sadly, my example is gone now. Too many new faces to explain that I suffer from mental illness. But now when someone who knows tells me their problems they have with mental health I give them my advice to not say anything.

I did, and now it makes me feel like an American Idiot.

 

 

 

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