Fuck You, Government.

I’ve been trying since February to get help from the government with my mental health bullshit that’s been rearing it’s ugly, destructive head most of my life. Since then it’s been nothing but bureaucratic red-tape clusterfuck inanity. After another extended period of no communication on their end, I called today and found out benefits were denied nearly a month ago, but nobody bothered to send me a letter. Social service programs are specifically designed for cases like this, where mental illness symptoms are a significant detriment to successful interaction with society. As in, unless I get the help I need and start fixing these issues, I am liable to flip out and start physically harming hapless, brain-dead members of society. This is why motherfuckers bring a shotgun to work one day.

Fuck you, Government. >:[

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Take a look around, man and watch our worlds collide!

Title from Buzzov*en, “Shove” from the album …To a Frown

I learned something interesting at my head shrinking session a couple days ago. Apparently, the current medical knowledge of the last decade or so indicates that anti-depressant and anti-anxiety medication has little or no effect on bipolar symptoms, and in many cases can actually exacerbate manic symptoms and trigger manic episodes. This according to a psychiatric professional, so I would assume the information is legit.

So, basically this means the last fifteen years or so of having the entire spectrum of SSRIs and whatnot flunge at me was, as I had come to suspect, doing fuck all for me, and in fact is partly to blame for the constant headcase fuckery cycle of recurring bullshit. All clinical terms, I assure you.

This is one reason I have such a distrust of doctors. Plus they keep trying to harvest my organs for their secret black magic rituals. Just kidding. Probably… 😉

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

…down on the floor, scratching for more…

Title from Fistula, “Smoke Cat Hair and Toenails”, from the album Vermin Prolificus

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Manic as fuck. This has been building. It’s a frantic race to nowhere. A deranged rat on a hamster wheel. The sedatives aren’t working (“I think I can handle my sedatives, bro…” -Charlie). Cyclical thought experiments. Running through my past transgressions. Recall, revisit, rewrite, restore. This is why the lines get blurred.

Suddenly, focus. Something intense, white hot, piercing, and its all that there is. It envelopes from the inside out, wraps tentacles, consuming. It is all that there is.

It is gone. And there is nothing. Less than nothing.

Fractured psyche, rearranged. The protective cover of scar tissue. Healing. Growth. Change…

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© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

So, you’re just gonna come back around here, show your face again like nothing happened?!

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It’s been just under six months that I’ve been completely off any sort of psychiatric medication. The last set of meds I was on triggered strange and terrible bouts of manic insanity, and I wanted to get back to an unmedicated baseline to see what that felt like. At no time in the last six months have I felt any better or more stable than before, though I have had a fair share of days that were much worse: my experience with mental illness, much like my experiences as an active drug addict, is that just when you think you’ve reached your lowest point, life is about to show you just how much more fucked it can be.

For the most part, however, being completely off psychiatric medication for me does not feel all that much different from how I remember feeling while I was on psychiatric medication. Which, in my mind, confirms my suspicions that the meds I’ve been on in the past have done fuck all to address my symptoms. They seem to work for a short while, but then…

I have an appointment this week with a witch doctor or shaman of some sort to discuss the possibility of getting back on some type of psychiatric drug regimen. I will obviously be taking the doctor’s opinion and advice into consideration, but as it stands I am honestly torn about whether or not I want to start back on that shit again. The idea of finding some type of relief from some of these symptoms of insanity sounds rather fanfuckingtastic. However, with each past experience with psych drugs I grow increasingly doubtful of the effectiveness of medication at all.

Besides, I’ve grown rather fond of some of my imaginary friends. Some of them. The rest of you can fuck right off! 😉

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© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

But You Can Make My Teeth Growl

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Spinning: The Melvins, “Night Goat”

I feel like my intellect is the only thing preventing me from diving headlong into insanity with utter abandon. Despite much evidence to the contrary, I am a fairly intelligent bag of meat and calcium, and my philosophical background ensures a certain level of logic and critical thinking. Thus I am able to identify and recognize much of this madness for what it is, a product of delusion and mental illness. So, on a logical level, I realize many of the things I think and feel are not “real,” in the sense that they are perpetuations of the sickness inside my mind. However, there is a very big difference between knowing something to be true on an intellectual level, and believing it to be true on an emotional, intrinsic level.

But then, another thought. Sure, I have certain manifestations of insanity that I can identify as such. But what of all the other things, the perhaps truly delusional things, that I don’t recognize for what they are, that I accept without question as “real” and “true” to my accepted understanding of “reality”?

WOAH.

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Installation by Katie Grinnan

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

The Pills You Take To Mend Will Be the Architects of Your Destruction: A Musing on Paxil and the Struggle With Madness

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Illustration by Joel Benjamin

Someone dear to me shared this outstanding post from Vice News on the subject of psychiatric medication withdrawal. You can find the original post by following this link.

Below is one of my own rantings on the subject from recent months.

Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan

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I have been on and off various psychiatric medications for my entire adult life, mostly concurrent with a good fifteen plus years of self-medication with “illicit” drugs and alcohol. Surprise of all surprises, I am also the kind of “adult” who can never seem to get his fucking life together.  This instability accounts for my inconsistency with staying on the legal drugs — I lose a job, I lose insurance coverage, I lose my doctor, I lose my mind.  In the midst of this, I destroy everything. 

Beyond that, I have ever increasing doubts about the efficacy of psych meds at all, coupled with growing anecdotal evidence and research suggesting I’ve never been accurately diagnosed in the first place. But that is a topic for another time…

I mentioned here that, for various reasons and circumstances, I would be going off the current “wonder drug” that I’ve been pumping through…

View original post 824 more words

before the breaking

Moon Dog by Nick White

Moon Dog by Nick White


i can no longer recall
who i was before
the breaking

memories faded, distant
brittle frames from
home video left out
in weather and dust

there are hints
subtle whispers
a scent on the breeze,
suggestions of
who died that day,
reminiscent personality
left to rot in
so much mire.

i miss him
a bitter longing
or perhaps just the idea
that once this all
was different.

where once was
hope, now bitter
despondency.

where once was
love, now scornful
loathing.

where once was
passion, now caustic
agony.

where once was
vigor, now apathetic
lethargy.

where once was
genial empathy, now
selfish indignation

where once was
wholesome symmetry, now
all lies shattered.

Facing Uncertainty by Sara Biljana

Facing Uncertainty by Sara Biljana


© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Upon Waking, Pure Hatred — And Yet, An Appeal

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My scornful misanthropy is already getting in the way of my attempts to foster ambitious effort today. How am I supposed to do things that require me to be around people if every dumb fucking face I see nurtures boundless, inexplicable impulses towards wrathful violence and furious loathing?

Not your face, though. Your face is fine. If it’s even your REAL face… >:[

In other news, and pertinent to the reason I must venture forth into the world of other fucking people today, I am making some half-hearted attempts to further my profession as a writer of late.  Thus far, this comes in the form of whoring myself and my “expertise” out as a ghost writer, freelance contributor, and/or proofreader to any and all interested parties.  I’ve completed a couple of jobs, ghost writing essays for overworked college students who are also forced to work full-time to support themselves whilst toiling away on a degree that will look great on paper…

…but I’m not bitter.  Says the guy who took a semester off over a decade ago, leaving a worthless Bachelor of the Arts in English and Philosophy with a handful of credits lacking.  But I digress…

What I’m trying to say, is, should any of the none of you reading this need anything written, corrected, proofread, critiqued, reviewed, or otherwise bastardized and shat upon by my glorious intellect, hit me the fuck up!  I would be only too happy to discuss your needs and what I will and will not be willing to do for money (no butt stuff).

My sarcasm in the face of seething, indignant ire aside, I am absolutely serious about this.  Feel free to Private Message me on the Books of Face here or here, tweet my twat on the Twitter here, or just fire off an email to wearetheryan@yahoo.com.  Get in on the ground floor while I am still cheap, easy, and without much moral fortitude!

Artwork Courtesy of BAG MAN-Visuals by Ethan McCarthy (click for more)

Artwork Courtesy of BAG MAN-Visuals by Ethan McCarthy (click for more)


© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Ideation on Oblivion

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Image by Kurore García

This could be the brain cloud talking, but oblivion sounds so goddamn appealing in this moment…

Suicidal ideation is often a symptom of mental illness. In a small portion of the population, suicidal ideation is a side-effect of psychiatric medications used to treat mental illness. When stopping the use of psychiatric medications, often drastically increased suicidal ideation is a symptom of medication withdrawal, even when quitting medication under physician supervision.

Makes a whole lot of fucking sense, doesn’t it?

“Oblivion” by Mastodon

“I flew beyond the sun before it was time
Burning all the gold that held me inside my shell
Waiting for you to pull me back in
I almost had the world in my sight

Lost love
Bright eyes fading
Faster than stars falling
How can I tell you that I’ve failed?
Tell you I failed…

Falling from grace cause I’ve been away too long
Leaving you behind with me lonesome song
Now I’m lost in oblivion

I tried to burrow a hole into the ground
Breaking all the fingers and the nails from my hands
The eyes of a child see no wrong
Ignorant bliss, impending doom

Lost love
Bright eyes fading
Faster than stars falling
How can I tell you that I’ve failed?
Tell you I failed…

Falling from grace cause I’ve been away too long
Leaving you behind with me lonesome song
Now I’m lost in oblivion

Falling from grace cause I’ve been away too long
Leaving you behind with me lonesome song
Now I’m lost in oblivion

Falling from grace cause I’ve been away too long
Leaving you behind with me lonesome song
Now I’m lost in oblivion

Falling from grace cause I’ve been away too long
Leaving you behind with me lonesome song
Now I’m lost in oblivion, in oblivion, in oblivion……”

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Image by mumudeckerr

Of all the DOOM in all the World…

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“…and you had to spin this one…”

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Nothing but fucking nothing helps soothe the gaping, largely self-inflicted wounds of loathing and scornful suffering like this split LP, from two of underground metal’s most leaden and caustic purveyors of DOOM.

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Denver’s PRIMITIVE MAN serve up three blistering, misanthropic tracks of seething, tumultuous rage, while St. Louis’ Fister fill in the flip-side with two suffocating, polar quakes of acidic, cynical torment.

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PRIMITIVE MAN on Bandcamp

This is the essential soundtrack to my descent into madness, and often it is the only thing that brings me back to the surface. I do not say this lightly — this album has kept me from slitting my own fucking throat on more than one occasion.

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GET IT NOW from A389 Records!

Some of us need to be immersed in the darkness to remember why we should bother to seek the light.

Fister on Bandcamp

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Need more hype?? Read on here!

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.