its so hard to say goodbye --- my father's passing

yep. the long winding road to remission and recovery. sigh. yes, it's been long alright. as it turned out, i was approved for Social Security Disability. i had been sitting on pins and needles thru that whole summer and i had previously received paperwork from the state adjuticator to fill out regarding my illness and also for my psychiatrist to fill out as well. i did the paperwork and had my doc do his part and i mailed all of it to them. i would call the adjuticator off and on playing phone tag but when i did talk to him he was saying that i might have to see their doctor unless my doctor sent my entire chart to them for review. my heart sank at that bit of news, but i asked the nurse to please fax over my whole chart to the state. they did, and i called the adjuticator to see if the chart had been sent and he told me no. i was already near the brink of losing it again, and again he was telling me of the upcoming visit to their psych doc that i had already confirmed. he told me to tell them to fax it again and after review if they felt that they had enough information about my illness, then i wouldnt have to see their doctor. so, again, i asked the nurse to re-fax over my chart to the state adjuticator because they claimed they didnt receive it. and this time, i made sure it was faxed over by asking the secretary if she was in the process of doing it. she said she was, and i heaved a sigh of relief.


after about two weeks, the adjuticator called me and told me they received my entire chart and that i didnt have to go to their doctor, that they had more than enough information. i nearly wept with joy, and then i asked him if things looked favorable. he said it did, and i would receive a letter in the mail from Social Security telling me what i would be receiving. i shouted with joy to the heavens above because my long draught of not having money was almost over. plus my oldest daughter had already told me she couldnt keep paying my rent for me because it was beginning to stress her and i told her she didnt have to worry about it, that i had been approved for disability benefits and that i would be receiving a back pay check in a substantial amount that would cover the rent for September. she paid the rent for August, and i told her that i would be able to take it from there for the next month. on September 17, 2004, i recieved my back pay check, and i fell to my knees in tears thanking God over and over that i was finally able to take care of myself. as i said before, the check was in a substantial amount, and my youngest daughter had brought it up from the mail and i told her what it was, and she hugged me and then i told her ok, let's go pay some bills. i paid off my phone bill which had crept up to over $500 dollars, i paid my light and gas bills, and took out the rent. still having money left over, she and i walked over to Bank One and i opened a direct deposit checking account with the left over money and then after that, we walked to my friend Marta's house and i gave her $100 because she had been so kind to me during my dark moments. so that month of September was a blessing from God for me, and beginning in October 2004, my direct deposits began. i receive a check for me and for my daughter, and set up online banking with Bank One and also set up online bill pay for the light, gas, and telephone companies. so each month on the 3rd i get my direct deposit in my checking account.


well, 2004 finally ended, and now we go into 2005. i was keeping my appointments with my therapist and my psychiatrists regularly, but in mid-January i began to feel all the signs of relapse. my relationship with my s/o had deteriorated and i knew i was not able to give of myself in it, so i ended it. it had been going downhill for sometime, and i had finally gotten tired of trying to make my illness understood and not really receiving the loving support i needed. when i ended it, it was like a huge weight had been lifted from me, and for a while i was fine.
then i got news from my father's lady friend in South Carolina that my dad wasnt doing well.
i had been trying to find a way to go and see him, but being on a fixed income, it wasnt looking too well. i became deeply depressed when i received the news, and i found myself crying off and on. i told my therapist about how i'd been feeling and he asked me did i feel like i needed to go back to the partial hospital program. i said yes, because that was a huge blow, and i wasnt sure if i could handle it on my own. so back to PHP i went on January 17, 2005. prior to that i had finally gotten my eyeglasses after a nearly three month wait for Medicaid to pay for them. once i was readmitted to the program, i became friendly with a lady who was also in the program, and while we were outside on a smoke break i was talking about going to see my father because i had gotten news that he wasnt doing well. well, this lady (and i wont mention her name here) heard me talking about going to see my father, and she came up to me and said she would help me financially to go see my dad, just tell her when i needed it. i was truly touched by her kind gesture and she gave me her phone number and told me to let her know when i wanted to go, and how i was going to go and she would give me the money. i thanked her for her generosity and we went back inside out of the cold.


February 2005. a bad month for me. i was having flashbacks of my breakdown from two years before and also still feeling anger towards that bastard who tried to rape my daughter. my emotions were in an uproar and then, i got another call from my dad's lady friend telling me she had to put him in a nursing home because caring for him had worn her out, and that he was not doing well at all. my father had Alzheimer's, which is a horrible disease, and most of the time he didnt know where or who he was, and he also suffered from Parkinsons, which caused horrible tremors, and macular degeneration, where his vision was fading. it was hurting me to hear about my dad's declining health, and by that time, i knew i had to go and see him. i called the lady who offered to help me and told her that i was gonna try to go see my dad for his birthday, which was February 4 and i was going to go by Greyhound bus. she asked me how much was the round trip fare, and i told her and she said she would have a check for me the next day. i thanked her for her gracious generosity in helping me to get to South Carolina, and she told me i didnt have to do that, she was glad to do it. she had dropped out of the program by then and then i got the worst news i could have ever gotten...my dad's lady friend told me he was dying and that it wouldnt be too much longer before he passed away. prior to that i had just sent him a birthday card to the nursing home where he was, and i asked Miss Claudia (my dad's lady friend) if she got it and she said she did, and how beautiful she thought the card was. i did manage to call him on his birthday but sadly, he really didnt know who i was, and it broke my heart. but at least i had heard his voice one last time. he sounded so weak and from what i had been told by Miss Claudia he had become very frail and weak. it hurt me to hear that and by then i was desperately trying to get down there to see him one last time -- but unfortunately i didnt make it. Miss Claudia called me near the end of February and told me Daddy was dying and that they didnt give him very long, that he'd stopped eating and had become incontinent and i started crying when she told me that, and after i hung up, i cried and cried until i was sick --- i fell down to the floor and cried and cried and cried, all the while two songs i'd downloaded by Luther Vandross played on my computer -- "Can Heaven Wait" and "Dance With My Father". i cried and begged God to please let my daddy hold on until i got there, and while "Can Heaven Wait" played, i cried and and cried even harder, because the lyrics were fitting to the grief i was feeling. my eyes were swollen and sore from all the crying i'd done, and then i heard a knock at my front door and it was my oldest daughter's father. still crying, i told him the news i'd gotten and he took me in his arms and held me while i cried. before he came, i called my oldest and and told her her grandpa was dying and it was only a matter of time.


anyways, the next day i went to group and told them the news, and started crying all over again. everyone in the group was very kind and supportive and it made me cry even harder. but i still kept going every day, even though it was very difficult to get up each morning. near the end of February i called the nice lady who offered to pay for me to go to South Carolina and told her the news. she said that she would be at the hospital once i got out of group and she would write out the check for me. i thanked her and told her God bless her for what she did and she said she didnt mind at all.

Tuesday, March 1, 2005. i got the call that i had been dreading...that my father had died. my children were with me and i began to cry all over again, with both of them holding me and hugging me. i was a complete wreck that night. i barely slept, even tho i had taken my bedtime meds, and again it was difficult for me to even get up and get ready for group, but i went. i told the group that my father has passed and that i would probably have to go out of town for the funeral. i was an emotional wreck, my heart was heavy from grief and i was barely functional. i still had crying spells off and on, and was deeply deeply depressed.

on that wednesday, i saw the nice lady at the hospital after i had gotten out of group and she saw me and motioned me over to sit with her while she wrote out the check for my busfare. i hugged her and thanked her over and over for her generosity and put the check in my purse. prior to that my brother called me on my cell phone and asked me if i knew of some cheap flights to South Carolina because that saturday they were having a graveside service for our father. i told him i would get back to him. i had previously went online to check the airfares which was way out of my price range, and i had told the nice lady that i was going to go by bus down to S. Carolina. the fare was $233.00 round trip and she had wrote the check out for $238.00. i called my brother back and told him i was coming by Greyhound and was gonna leave the following day, Thursday, the 3rd of March. he said that was good and i began to start packing my things for that long bus ride. i felt bad that i didnt have enough to bring my children with me, but they understood. on that Thursday, i called PHP and told them that i was leaving that day to go down to S. Carolina because the funeral was on saturday. i had gotten my direct deposit that morning and paid all the household bills online and then went out and paid the rent and cashed the check the lady had given me, and then rushed off to the 95th & Dan Ryan Greyhound station to buy my ticket, and dog tired, i went home to prepare to leave. by that time my oldest daughter had come over to keep an eye on her little sister, and i was frantically rushing to leave out to get to the bus station. she downloaded some songs on a blank CD and i had gathered up some extra CDs to listen to because she had also let me carry her CD player so i wouldnt lose what was left of my mind on that long bus ride.


around 6 pm, lugging my heavy bag and purse, i told my kids i was leaving and they all hugged and kissed me and told me to be safe on my journey. i told them i would and that i loved them and i would see them on monday. wearing my heavy winter coat, i traipsed to the bus stop and took the #4 bus to 95th street and then took another bus to the 95th Street train/bus station.
i got there at about 7:15 and wearily made my way to the Greyhound station. i carried my cell phone and called the kids and told them that i made it to the station, and then my oldest told me that her dad was there and that he wanted to talk to me before i left. we talked for a while, and then i hung up and stood outside to wait for the bus. i was getting more and more agitated and irritated and asked the tired looking ticket agent where was the bus and she said it was late but it would be there. i was getting madder by the minute, and there were other people waiting both inside and outside the terminal. i went across the street to buy a big bottle of water so i could take my meds whenever the damn bus showed up. it finally came, and had to go downtown so we who were taking it could meet our connecting bus to go to our varied destinations. the lady at the 95th terminal had allegedly called the downtown terminal to tell them to hold the connecting bus because the bus we were on was running behind schedule, but as it turned out, by the time we got downtown, the connecting bus had left. tired, hungry and pissed beyond pissed, i went to talk to an agent and told him my tale of woe, that i had missed my connecting bus and so on. he asked to look at my ticket, which i was holding on to for dear life, and he swore under his breath and told me to wait there. prior to that, i was hungry and i had bought some chicken and rice with a roll and took my 9 pm meds. i wolfed down the food while the agent did his thing and then i sat there and waited.

stay tuned for more .....

one flew into the cuckoo's nest - episode 4

yep. my downward spiral began again in April, 2004. i was on an unpaid medical leave from my job and was getting more and more depressed. May 2004 -- after a visit to my psychiatrist and therapist, and from the angry feelings that had been building up within me, i wound up back in the cuckoo's nest -- again. this time i had thoughts of not hurting myself, but hurting other people. i was angrier than angry and it showed in my mannerisms, my speech and everything else. i had serious thoughts of killing the bastard who tried to rape my daughter, i had serious thoughts of strangling the shit out of the bitch ass nurse i had worked with, hell i felt like just getting myself an Uzi and blowing away everybody. also during that time, that's when i started hearing voices -- at first the voices sounded like a faraway muttering, but as my thoughts started racing and my mind was in an uproar, the voices became louder and louder until it felt like a convention was going on inside my head. also i did attempt suicide -- i had drunk a half a bottle of prescription cough syrup and laid down and waited to die. fortunately i didnt, but i was sleepy as hell and my thoughts were still scrambled because of the interaction with my medication. to put it bluntly, i was a time bomb waiting to explode.

before i was hospitalized, i had went online to apply for Social Security Disability. i figured what the hell, just go on and do it. i didnt expect to be approved but i did it for the hell of it. i went thru the application process online and got a confidential number in the event i needed to change some information. i printed out all of it and tossed it in a corner somewhere. i had a strong case of what i call the "fuck its" -- meaning, okay so i filled this shit out...fuck it. also again, before i re-entered the cuckoos nest, i would sit around in my funky pajamas and stare blankly off into space. i think i had began losing touch with reality and the voices became louder and more intrusive. i didnt want to eat, i didnt want to bathe, like i said, i had the "fuck its." i would sometimes sit for hours on end staring at the floor, the walls, or still in a catatonic-like state, rock back and forth over and over. it was like my body was there but my mind was way off in the Twilight Zone. i remember i didnt take a bath for close to 3 weeks before i finally got down wind of myself and got my ass in the bathtub because i couldnt stand my own smell. it didnt
help that much, but at least i was clean.

anyway, fast forward to the second week in May 2004. i was in group and i started getting agitated and edgy and i think one of the nurses asked me was i alright and i said no. she said was i feeling suicidal and testily i replied no. then i was asked if i wanted to hurt someone else and i said again irritably, 'yes'. so once again i was walked over to the cuckoo's nest, and admitted again, this time for 'homicidal ideation.' all the anger i had been feeling had been coming out in different ways and i was at my boiling point to where i actually felt like killing someone - namely the bastard who tried to rape my daughter. my oldest daughter was living with me during that time and because i had no income coming in, and she was working, she stepped up to the plate and paid the rent faithfully up until september. but i digress.
while i was in the cuckoo's nest i was started on Seroquel again - this time 200mgs and of course the nitey-nite pill, and Zoloft 150 mg. also, we patients were allowed cigarette breaks -- woo hoo! we were allowed breaks after breakfast, after lunch, after dinner and before bedtime. i was glad of that because i just couldnt take the patch breaking me out and nearly puking on the gum, so i guess staff figured the best way to keep the patients from completely going off the deep end was to allow us smoke breaks. that at least was something we looked forward to, and some of the staff who were smokers joined us outside. it made my stay in the loony hole a hell of a lot more tolerable. also my daughter came to visit me and brought me some extra clothes and my own soap (because the little ass bar of Dial soap made me itch) and my own toothbrush and also some gel for my hair. i began to feel a little bit more like myself and actively participated in the other groups we had during the day, like occupational therapy and med therapy. also we still got a nighttime snack and sometimes we played bingo and got a prize...i won a couple times and got an extra couple of snacks (actually a couple of bags of chips) or we would watch TV until it was time for us to go to bed.

i forgot to mention that i had a roommate who wasnt too bad. she kept to herself and i kept to myself and we got along fine. i believe she was schizo, but she was ok. i remember when i was first admitted i was assigned to one room that i thought was where i was supposed to be, until i was rudely awakened by the night shift nurse telling me that i was to be moved to another room. that pissed me off and i let her know in no uncertain terms that i was not a happy camper -- i mean come on, shit, it was fucking 2 in the morning! i fussed all up and down the hall back and forth with the nurse and finally went to the new room, still bitching under my breath.

anyways, i went in on the 11th of May and was discharged on the 14th of May 2004. again, i had med scripts to fill but this time i was able to make it home without any problems or feeling woozy or nothing like that. i got home and was happily greeted by my youngest and oldest daughters and i will admit i was glad to be home. at least i could smoke without feeling like i was in jail :-) .

that was the last hospitalization i had. i havent been admitted again for suicidal or homicidal ideations since.

more to come....stay tuned.....

remission....and back down into the black hole of hell

as i said in my last post, i had begun to go into a brief remission, but it didnt last very long. after being on new meds, i begun to have what i call "zone out" spells...i would sit on one side of my couch and let the TV watch me...i was too spaced out to really watch it. i would sit for hours still in my nightclothes, sitting and staring at the television but not really watching it. the moments of clarity i did have i got hooked on watching reruns of "Law and Order" (i didnt know that show was so good!) on cable and also the reruns of "ER" and "Law and Order SVU". during those moments i could focus on the programs and after a while i watched those shows religiously. still though, i would sit around in my nightclothes, chain smoke and watch TV.


the only time i would move from my spot was to go to the bathroom, and sometimes surf the Internet -- mainly checking my emails and stuff like that. i had also became a regular in a chat room for depression and then i got hooked on that and for a while that filled my lonely hours and days that seemed to drag on and on. i began to withdraw from the world outside and would only go if i needed cigarettes, or had an appointment with my therapist and psychiatrist. other than that, i didnt budge from my spot on the sofa. and then i began to have sugar cravings that were almost addictive -- i would down Little Debbie cakes like regular food, and before i knew it, i had gained all the weight i'd previously lost -- about 25 pounds. i still felt depressed, lonely, and also my relationship with my s/o was deteriorating too. i had no sexual interest, and i didnt care. so each and every day it was the same routine -- get up, take morning meds, sit on the sofa all day, watch TV, sit on the sofa all evening and then take betime meds, go to bed.


during those times i didnt seem to care what was going on around me -- i was still zoning out from time to time, and as i said before, i only went out of the house if i absolutely had to. this went on thru the end of 2003, and by then, i think around October of that year, i finally was released to go back to work. i didnt look forward to it, but i had to try and catch up the bills that had gotten out of control. so -- back to work i went.

i managed to stay sane up until April 2004, and then the spiral down the black hole began again. when i saw my psychiatrist, i told him that i had been having moments where i spaced out, i didnt or couldnt seem to concentrate while i was working, and also i still felt depressed. in fact, i began crying as i told him how i'd been feeling. he immediately took me off duty -- again, and told me he was going to put me back in PHP. he also called my supervisor on my unit where i worked and told her what was going on. still weeping, i thanked him, and thus began the descent into the dark hell hole of severe depression -- yet again. prior to seeing my doctor, i had had a run-in with one of the nurses on the floor who was a bonafide bitch supreme, and again i was feeling the urge to chokek the living shit outta her ass, and when it was time for the second half of my shift, i told the charge nurse i didnt want to work with that bitch because if i did i wasnt responsible for what i did to her. that bitch had been riding me all shift about piddling shit, and it was grating on my nerves and again i was only a millisecond away from bitch slappin her ass.


also, in February 2004, my youngest daughter was nearly raped by a man in my building. i found out when i came home that night from work, and when my daughter told me that, i nearly went thru the roof i was so angry. i wanted to kill that bastard right then and there. i asked her if she called the police and made a report and she said she had. i could not sleep that night because i was too angry. this was on a friday night when my child told me this. the next morning was saturday and that began my weekend to work -- however, i didnt make it to work that day. my teenage daughter had went around the corner to the store and came back looking terrified and told me she ran into that bastard again and he gave her a look. immediately i called the police and told them what was going on and they said they would send some officers to my house. all of this transpired around 1:30 -- the time i usually would start preparing to go to work. the cops came -- two plainclothes cops - one African-American and one Caucasian. i told them what had happened to her the day before and the black cop told us to get in the unmarked police car and wait while they waited for the muthafucka to show his face. as soon as he came out of his building, my daughter yelled, "that's him right there!" and the cops swung around to the front of the building and arrested him on the spot. i knew right then i wasnt gonna make it to work that day or sunday, so i had the black cop call my job and tell them it was a family emergency and that i wouldnt be in both days. i was still in my uniform when we went to the district police station on 79th and Halsted, and i was getting angrier by the minute. i wanted that muthafucka's head on a platter , and the black cop (who was a nice guy named Anderson) took me and my daughter into an interview room and told us we had to wait for the state's attorney to come down and hear both sides of the story.


being that it was a saturday, it took some time before the state's attorney got there, so my daughter and i were interviewed by one of the detectives who listened patiently as my daughter rehashed the whole awful situation. i asked the detective would that bastard go to jail and he said it depended on whether or not he admits to his guilt. when he told me that, i was livid. i was nearly yelling 'if he admits it?' what kind of shit was this -- this muthafucka put his hands on my daughter dammit, and so on and so on and i wanted his ass in jail. i was so mad i was pacing around the room. the detective sympathized with my feelings but he said the only way that they could put him in jail was that if he confessed to what he had done, and he also had to wait until the state's attorney got there. so we waited. they were interrogating the bastard in the other room, and i was wishing i was one of the cops interrogating his ass because i woulda beat a confession outta him so help me God. me and my daughter went out in the cold to smoke our cigarettes, and i was still highly pissed at the whole justice system. time seemed to drag by, and then finally the state's attorney came to see us first and get our story and then he went to go and talk to the perp. after a few minutes, the state attorney came into our room and from the look on his face i knew it was bad news. he told us that they could only hold that muthafucka overnight because he didnt confess to the crime, and it was deemed a misdemeanor and battery.


i was so furious i couldnt even talk. the state's attorney apologized to me and to my daughter about the results and said if the bastard had admitted to his guilt then they could have arranged for him to be sentenced and put in jail but since he didnt, there was nothing they could do but keep his ass in a cell overnight and let him go the next morning. i was too outdone. they did give us a court date for sometime in April, and after a while Anderson, one of the arresting officers told me that he had arranged for one of the other cops to take us home. i was too through...and all this shit happened two days before Valentine's Day. i had to miss two whole days of work because i was too upset to even go to work, and worried constantly about my daughter's safety when i did go back to work that following monday.

sigh. february became a bad month for me and as it came to an end and march approached, my anger was steadily building up inside of me. i worked, but it was like my body was doing my job, but my mind was not there. and then to top it off, during that month of march we had one of the worst nights on that floor that ever happened....we had four Code Blues that night. the whole unit was in an uproar and i had the misfortune to have three of the patients that had coded and eventually died. i was a complete and utter wreck, my nerves were shot, and i broke down and cried. it was horrible. i was running between the rooms of the three patients trying to do the post-mortem care on each of them, and losing it bit by bit.

near the end of march, i could feel myself slipping down into the black hole again, and by the time April came, with the impending court date hanging over my head like a cloud of doom, i knew i couldnt take much more. i was still seeing both my therapist and my shrink, and though i kept my appointments, my mental state was slowly relapsing and near the middle of April, on the 25th, 2004, i couldnt handle it no more. when i saw my shrink i told him that i didnt feel like i could work anymore after all the drama that had went on three months before. i couldnt take it. he recommended that i go back to the partial hospital program and called upstairs to my boss and told her that he was taking me off duty and putting me on medical leave. i gratefully thanked him and went to the Human Resources office to get the necessary paperwork for FMLA(Family Medical Leave). i filled out what seemed like a gazillion papers, and had my doc sign off on one of them, made copies for myself, and carried the completed papers to the HR office. i asked if my medical condition qualified for the short-term disability from the job and was told i was eligible for it. again more paperwork, and waiting. The FMLA was approved, but unfortunately i couldnt use my sick time so it wound up being unpaid. but i was hopeful that i could get the STD from the job to cover my bills. i did manage to have a couple of paychecks that paid April's rent and bills, but after that, i had to go to the Public Aid office to apply for emergency food stamps and a medical card for me and my daughter. again -- more paperwork-- i had to bring copies of my check stubs, rent receipts, damn near my whole life just to get a Link card and a medical card. while all of that was going on i got a letter in the mail from the insurance company that i was ineligible for the STD thru the job because the effective date was May 1st and had i waited out the the 6 days prior, i could have gotten it. that just threw me completely under, and this time, instead of being suicidal, with all the anger i had building up inside me, i was feeling homicidal instead. so...with that it was another admission into the cuckoo's nest -- again. stay tuned.........