the stigma has got to STOP

i recently visited Ms. Peculiar's blog and was saddened and angered at the same time. it seems ther ewas a shooting in her town by a man who had schizophrenia who'd been off his meds for a long time. now the man had no priors, only a speeding ticket, but other than that, nothing. he went on a rampage and shot and killed two police officers, plus some innocent bystanders.

OK. granted, the man was schizophrenic, but i believe had he kept on his meds, he probably wouldnt have hurt a fly. so that was a sad ending for him and a senseless tragedy for those who were killed.

well, i'mma about to cut loose on the stigma from IGNORANT ASSED PEOPLE that is always attached to mentally ill individuals....

1) Contrary to what you have seen portrayed on TV and in movies, not ALL mentally ill people are raving, screaming lunatics waiting to kill people. most of us are REGULAR people just like everybody else.

2) Of course, if a mentally ill person stops taking his/her meds, YES, negative consequences CAN follow, but ONLY if that person has stopped their meds.

3) Mental illness is a DISEASE just like hypertension and diabetes, and like the two physical diseases, it CAN be controlled thru medication.

4) There is no need to 'back away slowly' or give a condescending look to a person with a mental illness -- WE WILL NOT HURT YOU OK?

5) If you people who have NO CLUE as to what our respective illnesses are -- NEWS FLASH! -
either go online and do a search about said illnesses, or perhaps go to a library and do some research so that you will gain better insight. after all READING IS FUNDAMENTAL, dammit!

6) Dont pass judgement on those of us mentally ill individuals who happen to articulate words well, dress well and take care of ourselves by saying asinine stupid shit like, "wow. you dont look like anything is wrong"....again NEWS FLASH -- we may be dressed nicely on the outside, but can be still struggling our own inner anguish on the inside, and we may be reluctant to share this with you simply because YOU will have some bullshit remark to spew from your ignorance.

7) We are not "playing the system" with our illnesses. some of the ignoramuses of the world have said to me, "well, how are you gonna live on a once-a-month check?" "cant you find a part time job or something?" and the whopper...."are you EVER gonna get well?" here's my response...

a) i do the best i can do on a once-a-month check...so mind your own damn business!

b) yeah i could find a part-time job, but unfortunately when filling out applications where they ask, "do you have any mental/physical limitations in which you cannot perform the job?"
i tend to not want to share that with a potential employer. to know they've hired a loony would probably be bad for business, so that's a resounding HELL NO.

c) am i ever gonna get well...hm...ARE YOU EVER GONNA TAKE THE TIME TO FUCKING FIND OUT ABOUT WHY I'M "NOT WELL?" yeah, i will proably have my good and bad days, but goddam it dont make me feel that i'm some lazy piece of shit sitting back and collecting a check every month, because guess what.....IT COULD VERY WELL BE YOU!!!!

*ahem* i feel better now. if anyone is feelin' what i've posted, leave a comment. peace.

the end of another day

well. i finally got around to taking a bath and doing something with my hair. i feel somewhat human again *big stupid grin*. i even cooked a little dinner....wow, three small tasks accomplished *heyyyyyyyyyyyy*. already took my bedtime meds and pretty soon i'm gonna call it a day. btw, thanks Polar Bear for the compliment to my blog {{{{{hugs}}}}} and also to the other young lady for her compliment and saying which of the "Law&Order" series she likes
****THANK YOU!!!!!!****

i'm still learning how to navigate making changes to this site, so bear with me if it doesnt quite look the way i would like it to. i told yall i was *cough-rolls eyes around* computer challenged!

anyways, i'm gonna go and try to go to bed at a reasonable hour. i dont plan on staying up again until 4 in the morning.

everybody take care and be good to yourselves and each other. peace.

questions to myself

well here i am again. after that sudden burst of energy to wash my dishes and sweep my floors, i havent budged from this spot since. i have been reading other blogs and i can totally relate to a lot of the people who wrote them....especially about feeling 'numb' or on 'auto-pilot' (sorry Sid! didnt mean to steal those from you) well that's how i feel (?). i have caught myself dissociating off and on at times, even while reading the blogs. it's like a part of me is all of a sudden paranoid about unnecessary shit....

hallucinating sometimes? yeah.....it's like i see a shadow whiz by the corner of my eye...and then it's not there.

voices? yes, but on a low level.

feeling the urge to scream for no reason? yep. big time.

feeling like i dont know who i am or what i want to do with my life? damn skippy.

getting more and more isolated and not wanting to be around people? oh yeah.

flat affect? yep.

do i feel like taking a bath and washing my hair? nope.

am i suicidal? we'll come back to that one.

do i wanna just run screaming into the street? uh huh.

am i getting to the point where i am giving less than a shit about other people? hell yeah.

why am i asking myself these fucking question? havent a clue.

do i want to lie down and go back to sleep? yeah, but then i'll be up all fucking night, so that's not an option.

racing thoughts? oh most definitely.

am i suicidal? no.

am i homicidal? that's a 50-50 answer.

do i feel the need to self mutilate myself? no. too scared of my own blood (yet i've seen patients bleed out when i worked in the hospital - wtf?)

does chain-smoking count as self harm? um, yeah.

does anything feel right to me? no.

what exactly do i feel? i have no clue.

why am i even keeping up this stupid blog? i have no life and dont know what the fuck else to do.

why dont you want to get out of the house and do something? because i just fucking dont want to!

dont you like people? not anymore.

do you miss having a relationship? HELL NO.

do i dissociate when i walk down the street? yes. i almost got hit by a car (maybe wishful thinking?) but i caught myself.

do you like yourself? not at all.

do you believe people when they say that you are talented and should let the world see it? hellfucking NO.

why am i asking myself all these questions? hell if i know.

do you LIKE being depressed? sometimes. it seems when something good happens, i always expect the other shoe to drop, so what's the point in being happy?

do you have any sexual interest in anyone? LOL. that's a laugh. but NO. i could care less.

do you get offended if people call you 'mean?' no. been called that all my fucking life.

do the misfortunes of people you dislike make you happy? muwahahahahahahahahaha oh yeah!

if you were a killer, what kind of killer would you be? a revenge killer *evil grin*

would you just kill the person outright or make them suffer and then kill them? *evil laugh* oh most definitely torture and then kill 'em. more fun that way *wink*

are these the end of these stupid questions? *shrugs* yeah. i guess. fuck it.

painful childhood memories

well today i finally got busy around my train-wreck of an apartment. i started with the pile of dishes (for the life of me, i dont understand if it's only two of us in the house, how the dishes seem to multiply like freakin' rabbits!?!?!?!?) scrubbed the kitchen sink, washed pots and pans, wiped down my refrigerator - at least enough to where i wont turn my head in disgust - swept the kitchen floor and the bathroom rugs, and now i'm taking a break.


i had a tearful talk with God last night because i was feeling very overwhelmed about a lot of stuff -- namely, my friend V. she called me back last night in tears herself feeling like nobody understood her and she had said she was tired of always having to put on a front to people like "nothing's wrong". i told her i knew how that felt (believe me I do) and just listened and tried to offer her encouragement. after a while she calmed down, and we hung up.

i was attempting to watch "The Fighting Temptations" on cable, but there was a scene that ordinarily would not have upset me, but for some reason it did, and that was the scene where "Aunt Sally" had died and Rev. Shirley Caesar was singing about "going home". and seeing "Aunt Sally" laid out in that casket reminded me of my own aunt, who died last year in October. i guess it triggered me, because the next thing i knew, i was in tears. the anniversary of my aunt's passing is coming up on the 10th of October, and i guess seeing that scene in the movie made me think of her. i couldnt watch no more of the movie because the tears started flowing uncontrollably, and i shut off the TV, held my pillow and cried from way down deep in my soul -- gut wrenching tears. i was asking God to please, please help me get out of this terrible funk i've been in, and to also help my friend V, who was going thru her own inner turmoil, and cried and prayed until i couldnt no more. after that, i laid down and finally drifted off to peaceful sleep.

mind you i'm not a Bible-thumper by any means, but i do have some spirituality -- it's just that i dont use it the way i should until i have reached the point of no return and wind up in tears crying to God in the darkness, because i feel like i cant go on. i'm really not fond of going to church, but sometimes i feel the need to visit a neighborhood church to get that spiritual "fill up" like when your car runs out of gas and you need a "fill up". i'm not a Bible scholar, in fact, i grew up Muslim under the late Elijah Muhammad's "Nation of Islam". my mother was a fanatic about the NOI movement, and she used to drill it into me by either beating the shit outta me, or snapping at me for not 'obeying' what The Movement told us to do. i didnt have a real childhood where i could go out and play like regular kids, instead i was confined to my house under my mama's ever watchful eye, and made to read the mystic catechisms of the NOI and listen to reel to reel tapes of Elijah Muhammad's speeches. and if i even thought about deviating in any way, well my mama would find whatever she could put her hands on and beat me senseless, and sometimes i would get a double beating if she told my daddy -- and my daddy would beat me with the saying "i'm gonna make you remember this". my little body would be bruised and sore all over and a lot of times i cried myself to sleep.


i dont know what made me reflect back on my childhood....but since i've started i may as well finish. as i said, my mama was a religious fanatic and she felt it was her Muslim duty to make sure i didnt get out of hand.. yet i also believe my mother suffered from bipolar disorder, not to mention going thru menopause and having extreme mood swings to where she'd be singing a song to me and the next minute beating the hell out of me. i remember getting a beating from her where she used one of her shoes going all upside my head and my body literally screaming at me to 'stop that damn crying' all the while i am crying with terror as she whupped my ass. i guess i must have been about 5 or 6 -- i cant remember exactly, when i was crying, she tried to smother me with a pillow all while beating the living crap out of me. sometimes i'd get whuppin's for things i didnt even do, all because some of those old busybody biddies in the mosque had told her some lie about me.

it was a living hell most of my childhood. i vividly remember a time when my mama had whupped me for something and then went to sit on the couch. i was still in my room crying to myself and i was around 6 years old i think, and then my mama came in the room and told me to pack my things because "she didnt want me anymore". i started to cry all over again, my 6 year old brain thinking 'why dont my mama love me no more? why do she want to give me away' and she yelled at me to "hurry up and pack your shit and get out!" by then i was bawling like mad, all the while taking my clothes out of the drawers and stuffing them in a brown shopping bag. i was a little girl -- where could i go? still crying i had filled the shopping bag and still crying, i said "mama, i'm finished." then she said, good. i asked "where am i gonna go?" and she said, "i dont care. just GET OUT!" i walked to the front door crying and dragged the shopping bag along with me. i was afraid, deeply deeply hurt that my mama didnt want me no more and it just made me cry even harder. i guess i must have sat out on the steps with my bag and then the next thing i knew, my mama opened the door, and said, 'well i guess you can stay.'

crying, i came back in the house and went to my room. i didnt know why mama was so mean to me, and why she would always seem to be beating me for no reason.

i remember another painful episode from my childhood. i guess i must have been about 10 or 11, and i was playing with this little girl, and she offered me some of her candy. well, the way it was with my mama, i was not supposed to have candy. but the girl offered it and i took some. then that little heffa went back and told my mama that i was eating candy. why did she do that? my mama went off, threatening me that she was gonna "whip me good" once we got home. i was a nervous wreck, because i knew my mother's temper when she got really angry.
all the way home she said, 'i'm gonna half-kill you!" and as soon as we got in the door, she started wailing on me, with an extension cord at first and then her fists, all while i'm screaming and crying " i wont do it no more mama! please! i wont do it no more!" and she kept on hitting me and hitting me until we wound up in the kitchen, and thru my tears and to my horror, she held a rusted butcher knife in her hand, and the look she had on her face was of pure evil. she came at me with the knife, waving it in my face saying, "i oughta cut your goddam head off your body" i was terrified and started crying and pleading saying 'mama please dont kill me! i'm sorry!" then she took the knife and held it to my throat and said, "i'm gonna cut your goddamn head off!" i could see the rage in her eyes, and i begged and pleaded for my life because i thought my mother had gone insane with rage and had that knife been razor sharp, she would have decapitated me and i would not be here today. she held it at my throat for a long time, the rage and evil in her eyes frightening me even more. after a while she said, "get out of my face. you aint worth it." i think i pissed myself after that and went to my room to cry myself to sleep.

a loving muslim mother? hardly. though my mother was an excellent cook, kept a clean house and would bake her own bread and cakes, knew how to preserve food, her extreme mood swings kept me constantly on edge. i was a loner all thru elementary and high school, and some of my teachers used to say that i was 'anti-social' or 'lacks social interaction with other students'.
and dont let me come home with a bad report card...that called for another beatdown, and as i said sometimes a double beatdown if she told my father. my father's pet peeve with me was keeping the dishes washed, and i remember getting the beating of my life because i failed to wash the dishes. my daddy came into my room beating me out of my bead with a broom stick all the way to the kitchen even while i was crying and trying to wash the dishes, he was still whaling away on me. yet and still i loved my daddy more than my mama, and i think my mama might have been jealous of that fact. i dunno. they arent here no more. mama died in June 1987 from lung cancer unrelated to smoking, and my daddy died this past March from complications from Alzheimers.


some of you who may read this may say, "huh. your childhood was a piece of cake compared to mine." perhaps so. but the memories and the pain is still there.

just another day in the 'hood

'sup yall. sorry i didnt post anything here yesterday. been feelin blah lately (and i think it has a lot to do with that bitch 'Aunt Flo' coming to make her monthly visit - GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR)


on the 'bright' side, my beloved oldest daughter bought me a spankin' brand new telephone because the one i had has seen it's better daze, and she brought me a carton of my fave cigs and spotted me $20 bux. i dont know what i would do without my kids -- probably be involuntarily committed in the cuckoo's nest somewhere in a straight jacket or something...or worse.


i have to go up to the Walgreens and pick up one of my meds and it's gonna be fuckin hot as hell outside. FUCK. just what i need to kickstart my day. while i'm there i'll pick up some pads because i know i'mma catch hell when 'Aunt Flo' comes...*sigh*


maybe that's why i've been so blah....hormones are getting scrambled and a slight case of PMS.......which to me means 'Possible Murder Suspect' .....

anyway, it's just another day in the 'hood. sorry if this post is kinda dry....but it's how i feel right now. later.

another lonely day

another lonely day. sometimes i wonder 'why bother' to get out of bed. but yet, i do. i dont think my bedtime meds are working for me no more, because here of late i've been staying up past 10pm (which was my usual bedtime) to sometimes 12, 1 and 2 am. next month i will discuss this with my pdoc. i also have to catch myself from 'zoning out' (otherwise known as 'dissociation') when i'm typing on this computer. i will say one thing -- typing all of this out and knowing that there are others out there who suffer similar symptoms is a comfort to me. a part of me wants to go back to bed and stay there the rest of the day, but somehow i just cant make myself do it. the sun is shining brightly, but the way i feel right now, i could give less than a rat's ass about it. *sigh*.


i did get out yesterday because i had to meet up with my friend V at the hospital where i used to work because she had some stuff for me as i for her. we did our pleasantries and she had a doctor's appointment to go to and i just went on and left.

today, i kinda feel myself starting to relapse...and i can tell when i start having dissociative spells, not wanting to do anything, go anywhere, or even take a bath. i left a message on my oldest daughters cell phone telling her i found my $3.00 coupon for Virginia Slims cigs, because she said that she would come by here tomorrow and get it so she could buy me a carton. and she said she was gonna probably take her sister out for her birthday, being that she's turning 18 next thursday. right now i feel hollow, blah, empty. the only friends i have are V, who i talk to almost every day, and the nice folks here who post their comments, and my Yahoo IM chat friends. in a way i feel cut off from the world, like i dont exist. i suppose i'm depressed about getting my check next month without the extra money i got for my daughter, because i know i wont have nearly anything left once i pay rent and my online bills. yet i will have an increase in my food stamps. *twirls finger in the air* -- i guess i should count my blessings because last month i was getting only $10 in food stamps, and come next month my medicaid card will be back to normal and i can go see my T and my pdoc. i dunno...i think i may wind up going back to the partial hospital program. i was doing fine once i got out, now, i feel like i'm starting to relapse again. it's like i have no interest in anything except keeping up this blog and reading my email. some life huh?


i know some people would say, 'well you gotta force yourself to do things.' OK. but how can i force myself to 'do things' when i have NO motivation, NO interest and NO desire? no disrespect to those of y'all who are bipolar, but i wish i had the mania -- maybe then things would get done around here that i have just upped and neglected. i'd have a clean house, things would be in order, and i probably would go somewhere to just get out of the fuckin house.
but-- unfortunately i'm more depressive, so i tend to shut down totally. when i was in PHP that at least gave me the motivation to get up in the morning, even tho my rides would come at like 6:45, 7 am and i'm not fully awake yet. but i have my bus pass and disabled rider pass, so i could come on my own....shit. scratch that notion. i just gotta figure out a way to get thru this.

the bitch of it is......................................HOW?

new blog

hi all. just wanted to let you know that i have started a new blog called "WTF????????" its mainly my observations and rants about shit i've encountered or seen in the media. feel free to check it out. thanks!!!!!!!!!!!!!

holding back the tears part 2

i dont know what i have done to deserve such caring people in the world. everyone who has left a post to my blog i thank you from the depths of my heart. you know who you are--you are the best!

i was IM Yahoo! talking to my online adopted 'daughter' who lives in Canada, and out of the blue she offered to send me a check for $100! i was so shocked i was at a loss for words....all because i said i couldnt afford the membership fee at the museum where i volunteer from time to time and that i had no food in my cupboard. this poor sweet girl who has gone thru more hell and abuse way too many times, offered to help me! i couldnt believe it....and i'm still in shock.

this dear, dear girl has been thru abuse of horrific proportions, from family members yet in spite of her difficulties she carries on like a trooper. there were times i wish i could have sent her money but i didnt have it. yet she is sending me money! i am humbled by her kindness.

i dont know what the conversion rate is for $100 in Canadian money to American money, but my bank said i could still deposit the check into my account. if anyone knows what the conversion rate is, please let me know. no matter what it is, i'm still touched by her kind gesture. its been said that God takes care of fools and babies, and Lord knows i've been more of a fool than most, but i guess i am worthy of good friends like her, my other friend V, and those of you who have posted comments on my blog.

to all of you -- i say a huge THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! again, i'm holding back tears, because all my life i've done for others and didnt expect anything in return--and didnt get it either way. this is gradually restoring my faith that there ARE good and decent people in this world.

God bless you all...and again THANK YOU.

Nice

I have "met" so many wonderful people in blogland, it is so nice to feel a part of a community, even if we all are crazy. It amazes me how many of "us" are out there. Mizeeyore, you're awesome! Thank you for inviting me to be a part of your blog! Looking forward to reading about your experience with mental illness on Crazies Unite! It has been totally therapeutic to be part of blogland.

Thank you all!

holding back the tears

right now i am TOTALLY pissed off! somebody stole my cigs i ordered online! i honestly believe it was the mail carrier because when i check the tracking number at the USPS web site, it said they were delivered Saturday at 12:22 in the afternoon and signed off with MY initials (G.M.) ! WTF? the cigs were some discount brand, but goddam it i paid $19.67 via e-check for 'em and somebody steals my identity AND my squares! i am filing a complaint with the Post Office and the Postmaster General to find out who the fucker is that clipped my squares. oh i am NOT givin up on this! i'm trying to cut corners by buying some super cheap cigs so that i wont have to pay $5 or $6 a pack and at least have a carton to last me the month. now this. hell, i'm only gettin a check for myself now, and my budget is gonna be super tight and yes i know smoking is a bad habit, but goddam it, at least it's legal and it helps me keep sane, a'ight? i know i shouldnt be bitching about some cheap cigarettes, but dammit, i paid for 'em so i could have SOMETHING that i enjoyed, and it didnt mean a rat's ass if they were cheap, just as long as i didnt have to pay no $5-5.50-5.75 to $6.00 for no squares, shit!

well, my oldest daughter called me back because i had left a voice mail message telling her my tale of woe. she was just as pissed as i was about somebody having the balls to take my carton of cigarettes. i bitched to her about what had happened, and then she told me "mommy (she's 26 years old but still calls me "mommy" *big cheesy grin*) dont worry. i'll pick a carton of cigarettes for you. and i'm gonna get you a new telephone too" because my phone is shot to hell. that nearly brought me to tears when she said that. i told her "you gonna make me cry" and she said "no cry for mommy" (lol). i told her how sweet she was to do that and that i had a coupon (somewhere around here, i'm gonna find it too dammit) for $4.00 off a carton of Virginia Slims (any brand) and she said she'd come by on Thursday to get it. that brightened my day considerably. i thank God for both my daughters. i dont know what i would do without them. and it's funny, i had just got off the phone with my friend V, who was gonna bring me a phone, which i thought was a very wonderful gesture from her, and i called her back on my cellphone and told her she didnt have to bring it after all, that my oldest daughter was gonna buy me a new phone. V has been very good and kind to me, and i have two cards of appreciation i'm going to give her tomorrow when we see each other. the poor girl suffers from BPD (bipolar and borderline personality disorders) and my heart goes out to her because she struggles so hard to keep herself together and stay strong in her Christian faith, and she has become my best friend because we understand one another's pain and trials and tribulations. she has given me clothes, food and even money when i didnt have it, and i try to reciprocate back to her as i can by giving her cards, and even money if i have it. she even got a little gift for my youngest daughter's upcoming birthday, and i thought that was so sweet of her to do that. she's "adopted" my youngest as her little 'goddaughter' because i always talk about how she always looks out for 'mommy'.

yes me and my girls have had our share of squabbles, fights and tears, but i thank the Good Lord they are still here for me. if i didnt have them, i probably would be dead and gone. i love them so much it hurts. and at times i feel bad, especially about my youngest, because i dont always have money to buy her the things she wants. it hurts me to the point i sometimes break down and cry because i want her to have everything and i feel like a loser because i cant give it to her. but she is resourceful, and she has her little job at the neighborhood candy store where she is saving her little money in her cute blue "pig pig" piggybank.

also at times, i feel like a burden to my kids because of my illness. i sometimes feel guilty that they look out for me, and i'm a worthless piece of shit because i am unable to work anymore. i hate this illness and what it has done to me, and yes, in my darkest, most wretched moments, i dont feel that my daughters deserve a broken, worthless half-crazy mother like me, and i will go into the bathroom and stare long and hard at the bottle of ibuprofen with tears in my eyes because i feel they deserve a mother who is mentally stable and whole, not an old broke-down nutjob like me. then i close the cabinet and sit on the commode and weep, because i know it would hurt my kids more if i killed myself, so i push those thoughts out of my mind.

as i type this missive, i'm sitting here with tears in my eyes because for a long time i thought my kids hated me, and now i see they always loved me, even when i didnt love myself. i'm crying now because of the love i have for my children is so deep it hurts.

i better go now. it's getting harder to type while i'm crying like this.

a little bit of my poetic flow

the freedom to be ME

im not perfect
never claimed to be
and i damn sure dont possess
a wall full of degrees
like AA, BS
Master's or PhD
im just an ordinary woman
as ordinary as can be
and all i've ever wanted
was the FREEDOM TO BE ME...


why do people wanna judge me?
why do they feel this need
to criticize or diss me?
ive tried over and over
to figure this shit out
and all it has done
is leave me in doubt
about who I am
and what others say
i should be
when all i want is
THE FREEDOM TO BE ME...

to live my life
on MY own terms
to have the freedom of choice
in what lessons i learn
be they easy or hard
dont matter one bit
and God knows i'm so tired
of hearing other people's bullshit
and im REAL tired
of tryin so hard to fit
into a mold of what
other people say
the way i "oughta" be
please for God's sake
lemme find my own way!
i mean, i do respect
what you might have to say
but if i make a mistake
or i stumble and fall
i dont need negative comments
or criticism from y'all

lemme be the person
that I wanna be
be it right or wrong
good or bad
happy or sad
whatever the fuck it is
they are MY choices y'see?
so goddam it please
honor my plea
be you friend or society
lemme have the God-given right
and the FREEDOM TO BE ME!!!!!!!

just one of them daze........

today is 'just one of them daze' where again, i'm sittin on my big fat ass surfin' the 'Net, reading and posting comments on other people's blogs....btw, a HUGE THANK YOU!!!!!! to all of those nice ppl who dropped by my blog and posted comments. it is a great feeling to know i'm not alone in feeling the way i do sometimes, and your posts are warmly welcomed....so again THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


i guess i really dont have much to talk about today....same shit, different day. i'm down to my last cig and i need to get my lazy butt out of this house and traispe up to the gas station to get me some more.... at least i can say 'wow, i actually got out of the house today!' yeah, big whoop.


from the different blogs i've read, i see that i'm not alone in this bloggin' thang. shit, i've literally kicked watchin' TV to the curb, just so i have a reason to get up everyday. yet, from my reading, i have come across some wonderfully written blogs that make mine look written roadkill. my heart goes out to all of us who are still struggling with our respective illnesses, i.e., depression, bipolar, schizophrenia, P.T.S.D., OCD, panic/anxiety attacks, SI/SH/SM urges, dual diagnoses (substance/alcohol issues along with mental illness issues). i pray that one day we will finally be set free from out personal demons and also be accepted as PEOPLE and not fallacies of the lunatics portrayed on TV and in the movies. i pray that we all are accepted as ONE world, regardless of race, sexual orientation, body type, hair texture/length, creed, color, and yes, even mental illness. theres' way too much sterotyping in this world, and if any of y'all feel like i do, that bullshit needs to STOP. Seriously.

well, lemme get offa my soapbox. holla back.

tired of people's bullshit

shit. a boring day all around. i guess i'm back in the fog again. aint wanted to do shit, but sit my fat ass at this computer and read other folks blogs and post comments. wow...fun, huh? at least i know there are other folks out there kindasorta feeling the way i do from time to time.

i went online and saw my phone bill and nearly fainted....but i knew it would be high, so i immediately got on the horn and called SBC to work out a payment plan. as i said before, it's gonna be tighter than tight around here, and i know when shit like this happens, that's usually when i start relapsing. but i'm gonna fight it wit all i got. i went ahead and gave my youngest daughter her birthday card and present ( a cute Pooh Bear wallet where i'd hidden some money) early so that i wouldnt forget to do it when her actual birthday comes on the 25th. she's been making $15 a day working in the little candy store and i'm proud of her putting her money in her little blue plastic piggy bank. once again, the TV is yappin at the living room, cuz i've been online all damn day either playing computer games or reading blogs. great life, eh?

i went to the pdoc appt yesterday, but i cancelled it because i didnt wanna take a chance and get a bill because those fuckers from Amerigroup are still on my medicaid card until next month, then they will be gone for good. my pdoc understood my dilemma, and i said that once i got the new medicaid card for september minus Amerigroup then i will make an appointment. he did tell me if i needed meds that he would help me out with samples until everything is finally straigtened out. so far *knock wood* i'm ok in that department. i also gotta call my T and tell him what i told my pdoc, because i was supposed to have an appointment with him on monday.

*sigh* well soon i'll get my cig order (cheap ones mind you) and i wont have to buy cigs for a while provided i dont get stressed and chain-smoke like i've been doing. and, next month i can actually go grocery shopping like i used to since public aid increased my foodstamps from the shitty $10 i was getting.

you know what amazes me and pisses me off at the same time? when you (choose) to disclose you have a mental illness, and you keep yourself up, they look at you or say asinine shit like, "well you seem fine to me" or "i dont see anything different about you". NEWS FLASH! just because a person takes the time to groom themselves and not look like a bag lady, or a bum, dont mean that they are 'ok'! sure, there are many poor souls walking around dirty, disheveled, and talking to themselves, but most of those poor souls cant help it. so i say dont pigeonhole the others who take the time to keep themselves clean and neat, that we too should "look" like those poor souls, a'ight? i recall a time when my ex said some shit to me that i shoulda went off about, like, "well are you EVER gonna get well? are you EVER gonna go back to work?" like i was some lazy deadbeat living off "the good working people" like her, and so many others, collecting a check every month. WTF?

to answer that question, i dont KNOW if i will ever be 'well' ! would you ask a diabetic if they will ever "get well"? would you ask a person with leukemia will they ever "get well"? i am so goddam tired of the stigma associated with mental illness! yes, some of us DO eventually "get well" but it's a daily struggle to just keep sane. just like patients who have cancer, and go into remission, so it is with the mentally ill. we go into 'remission' and can be just fine until something throws a monkey wrench into that 'well' state and fucks us up again. those of us who suffer from depression, bipolar, schizophrenia, panic/anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, and other mental illnesses are no different than those who have diabetes, or high blood pressure (hypertension), or HIV, or cancer. we have a legitimate ILLNESS that can be just as debilitatitng, just as severe, and sad to say, sometimes deadly as those other physical illnesses. when one loses touch with reality, has crying spells, racing thoughts, hallucinations/hearing voices, or even contemplating s*icide, we are sick too! but i guess these uninformed idiots think that because some of us still keep up our hygiene, and can hold a conversation that we are
"getting over on the system" and that we "could hold a job if we really wanted to".
and that we should "just snap out of it". ANOTHER NEWS FLASH---some of us just cant "snap out of it" ok? any little thing can trigger a relapse that could put us back in the hospital, ok?

i get sick and fucking tired of people saying trite shit like 'well everybody gets depressed sometimes....you'll be alright." i say FUCK YOU! unitl you have experienced what i have, until YOU have burst into tears while working, until YOU have sat around in your nightclothes day after day, zoning out into space, or heard voices, or worse, have considered ending your life because you feel like a worthless piece of shit that nobody gives a fuck about, muthafucka, dont tell me shit about how I should feel, a'ight? keep your asinine bullshit to y'self, ya heard?

if anybody can relate to this, feel free to post a comment. BTW- thanks to all who have visited and read my blog....it means a lot to me.

holla back, a'ight?

a rainy day in Chi-town

*sigh* it's a dreary day out today. yesterday wasnt any better, but at least it has cooled off some. got up took my AM meds and then i see my pdoc today at 12:30. after that i will go and pick up my meds from Walgreens, and try to get out to the hospital where my godson is. poor baby is probably thinking i dont love him no more. i sent an email to Ms. Williams at the museum for their event tonight, the Neo-Soul Explosion, first saying i was considering coming tonight and also asked if i could perform some of my poetry. i havent checked my other email addy to see if she responded, but after all the running around i will be doing today, i doubt very seriously if i go tonight. i dunno.

well one bit of decent news...my caseworker called me back (finally) to tell me that since i wont be getting a check for my daughter from Social Security (which sucks) that my foodstamps will increase next month from that fucked up $10.00 to $197.00 starting on the 1st of September. i'm glad of the increase, cuz at least i can go grocery shopping like i used to and not run out of food before the end of the month. to supplement my cupboard with food, i've been going to a couple of churches in my neighborhood that gives away food so at least me and my daughter wont go hungry. also, i have signed up to buy some cheap cigs online so that i wont have to cough (pardon the pun) up $5.70 or $6 for a pack of my regular brands, Salem Lights 100s or Virginia Slims Menthol Lights 100s. i mean this site has those brands, but since my funds are gonna be super tight, hell, as long as it's a menthol light 100 cig, beggars cant be choosy. as it is i've been smoking these Maverick Menthol Light100s, and they aint so bad, plus they are only $4.80 or $4.75 a pack and like i said, these will do when i cant afford my usuals. so i should be getting my online cig order soon.

i've also signed up with both the light and gas company's 'budget' program, which hopefully will keep my light and gas bills to a minimum. the phone company -- well, that's a different ball of wax. i guess after i see my next bill and pass out and then come to i will ask them to put me on the "defer bill" plan where i can pay them a little at a time.

i'm trying to cut corners as i can by helping myself, and even my teenage daughter is making a little change for herself by working at this little candy store up a couple blocks from where the UPS store is. she dont make much, but hey, i give my babygirl mad respect for trying.


shit.....i hope nobody from Social Security reads these things, otherwise i'm fucked! and that's all i need is for them to see this shit......oh well, 3 tears in a bucket, mutha fuck it.

that's it for now. peace.

cruisin' along

well i guess i got over my "fuck it" mode for a while. i actually got out of the house (yay for the loony lady!) and went to this church in my neighborhood and racked up a few extra groceries. at the suggestion of my friend V, i called the light and gas companies and asked to be put on their "budget" plan, since i wont be getting a check for my daughter no more...fuck! so my budget is gonna be tighter than dick's hatband next month and i still got rent and bills to pay. i aint gonna have much left after *sigh*, but i gotta do what i gotta do. i went back out in the stifling heat and bought me a couple packs of cheap squares, and then rode the bus up to the Walgreens and bought some precooked fried chicken (yum, the hot'n'spicy kind i like), and bought my daughter a pack of her brand of smokes and got back on the bus (thank God it was air conditioned) and came on back home. i also managed to finally get around to washing the dishes that were piling up and cooked dinner...we're having the chicken (which was microwavable, thank God), some cheesy mashed potatoes, and some fresh corn on the cob. so at least me and my daughter will be eating good for a while. i dont know where i got all this energy from and i aint gonna question it...i give all the credit to the Good Lord. oh yeah, yesterday my friend V cut my hair for me so the sheep's ass is finally gone and i look like a person again *big cheesy grin* :). she wears her hair close cut like i do and she's been cutting it for me since my funds have been tight.

i have an appointment on Friday with my pdoc, and i see my T on the 15th. i guess my mood has improved since i finally closed off all contact with my ex, because i aint gotta hear the drama from her no more. and if y'all are wondering, yes, my gate swings in both directions, ok. end of story.

my friend V bought me a cute little red hat and gave me a shitload of hair gel and some vitamins and also some facial soap. she's bipolar and has borderline personality, but i understand her and aside from a few ppl i know from IM's thru Yahoo and MSN, they're my only friends. i do have some guy friends too, in fact i went to see one of 'em yesterday too. i was once crazy in love with this cat -- for close to 10 years i carried a torch, but it was not to be, so....moving right along. it was good to see him again tho, and he always made me laugh. he and i are the same astro sign Capricorn, only his b-day is a week before mine -- his is December 23 and mine is December 30, so every year we call each other on our respective birthdays and say, well, happy birthday.

then my godson called me last night and told me he was in the hospital recovering from pneumonia. me and Capricorn Brutha are gonna go see him whenever he finishes up doing what he's doing. my godson is gay, but i love him like my own son, and i nearly cried when he told me he had HIV. thankfully, he's already on meds and had been doing fine, until monday when he told me his back was hurting something awful and went to the ER and they admitted him because he had pneumonia. i just worry that his immune system can fight it off in spite of the HIV. i worry about that boy even more and i pray constantly that he will live a long healthy life. with the newer meds that are out for HIV, i feel he will make it...hell, he'll probably live longer than me, cus i am a hopeless nicotine addict.

anyways, so far, i've been cruisin' along at a steady pace. i just hope it stays like this for a while. for now, that's all folks. peace.

the fog is beginning to fade - slowly

good morning/evening/night wherever you are reading this from. well, today seems like its much better than yesterday when i was in the "Twilight Zone". first off, i called my T to set up an appointment for this week; unfortunately he was booked all this week, but he did tell me to pick a day next week, which i did. so Tuesday the 15th i will see him and try to unload all of this shit that's been backing up in my head. then i called the phone company and asked them to add their 'call screening' feature to my service because there were certain people i didnt want to talk to -- so that went well. then i got a call from this fucked up 'managed care' group called 'Amerigroup' telling me that i am officially disenrolled from them and that my Medicaid card from public aid for September will be just straight Medicaid. *woo hoo thank you Jesus!*

i dont know what made me sign up with those idiots in the first place. i guess because they seemed to offer more than Medicaid did in terms of no co-pays for certain meds (altho Medicaid usually asks for a $3 co-pay, which is doable) which is about the only thing i will miss about them. other than that, i could give less than a rat's ass about them muthafuckas. at least now i can go to my T sessions next month and not have to worry about whether or not it will be covered. i hope and pray that i dont get a fucking bill from my last session with my pdoc or for my upcoming session with my T. that's all i need right now -- another fucking bill.

anyways, i think i will get my ass in the bathtub today to wash away two weeks worth of funk and also wash my hair and maybe do some small tasks around this house. i kinda clued in to what was making me feel so blah....i had been talking with my ex a lot lately and all she had to offer was drama and more drama from her dysfunctional family, and i just didnt wanna hear it no more. i sent an email saying that i'm not in the best of moods and that i wont be calling and ask that she not call me. then i blocked both of her email addys so she couldnt respond and next i will remove her numbers from my cell phone. i have made up my mind that you cant be friends with ex'es...at least i cant, because all it does is trigger residual feelings and i dont wanna be a part of that shit no more. so this time, i aint gonna look back. what used to be aint no more and it's time to completely close and lock the door on that part of my past. God knows i dont need the drama. i was doing fine when i wasnt talking to her, and i noticed since i had been, it was pulling me back to the dark hole again, and i aint tryin to go back to that fucked-up place no more. aint nobody worth that kind of shit, and i for one, know good and hell well i do not need to hear nobody's drama when i'm still struggling to keep what little sanity i got left. so FUCK IT
(lol).

now i'm just praying to God that i can make myself get outta this house and go back to doing my volunteer work -- even if its only a day a week. at least when i volunteer at the hospital they give us a $5 lunch voucher, so i aint gotta pay nuttin outta my pocket. which is more than i can say about the museum, altho i do like being around the artistic atmosphere. but i'mma be takin baby steps...aint gonna try to do everything all at once. i'mma take my time -- hell that i got plenty of as it is (lol).

so -- we shall see how it goes. i'm out. peace.

some shit that's been churnin around in my head....

here i am again. same shit, no different than my last post. *sigh*. i dont know what the fuck is wrong with me. i mean, damn, i take my meds the way i'm s'posed to, yet i feel like i'm in the fuckin' Twilight Zone and just waitin' for Rod Serling to come out and say "picture a woman, alone, sitting in the dark, smoking a cigarette, aimlessly typing shit nobody will probably ever read. she hasnt washed in two weeks, her hair is like a sheep's ass, and she dont give a fuck. this is the border between sanity and madness....next stop, the Twilight Zone......"

*sigh*. i just got off the phone with one of my friends i met when i was in the partial hospital program. i know all the things she's tellin me are right....that i should get out more, make myself do things that make me happy, bla bla bla....yet i just dont have the fuckin motivation to do a damn thing. and i know i should. i know this, but yet...shit, i just fuckin dont want to. i know it aint time for that bitch 'Aunt Flo' to make her monthly visit cuz i just finished with her ass last month, so i dunno.....i just fuckin dont know.

oh wait, i did manage to take my fat ass to the gas station to buy me a couple packs of squares, but even while i was walking i felt like i wasnt in my body....my affect is flat, and i caught myself starting to zone out. if i hadnt, i probably woulda got my ass run over when i crossed the street both coming and going. maybe i'm upset because i dont have enuf money to really give to my teenage daughter for her b-day that's comin up. i will get her a card and put whatever i can finagle in the card, but then she was sayin she wanted a cake for her b-day....and with the fuckin $10 i get a month in food stamps, well hell that's gone already. and birthday cakes dont come cheap.....the child is gon be 18 -- shit i didnt have no cake when i turnt 18.....but i love her dearly so i'm gonna find a way somehow....maybe i can ask my oldest daughter for the money......

Lord, please if you're listening, whatever this funk that i'm in please, i beg you, help me out of it. i used to be a person that stayed on the move....now i'm just a fuckin hermit. yet i know my friend is right....i need to get my fat ass up and outta this house. this is so not me.....i'm a Capricorn dammit, and we usually are always moving....but then again, depression is common with this sign too and when we get depressed, i mean we get DEPRESSED ok?

and to think a few months earlier i was full of energy....what the fuck happened????? i mean, when i was working, i used to dream about staying home all the time, which caused me problems with my attendance at the jobs i had. now that i am home all the time, i dont know what the fuck to do! i need to clean my house, but the thought of that just makes me tired. i used to work like a dog when i was working -- i mean from the time i hit the floor at 3pm all the way til 11pm, i was movin non-stop (FYI i used to work as a CNA - certified nurse assistant in various hospitals). a lot of the shit i did would have killed the average person, but no, not me....i would pull 300-450 pound patients up in the bed BY MYSELF ok? i would go out of my way to make sure my patients were well tended before i ended my shift, even to the point if an admission came in and my shift was officially over, i would sometime deliberately miss my bus so i could get that patient admitted and settled in their room so that the 11-7 crew wouldnt have to do it. call me stupid, but that was just the way i worked. now, after 11 years, you couldnt pay me to do that kind of shit no more. and i'm suffering from all that heavy work...i had to have surgery on my right shoulder because i had torn a ligament next to the rotator cuff from pullin heavy assed muthafuckas off stretchers and on to their beds. and now that same shoulder hurts like a muthafucka from the overuse - again. both my knees are shot to hell from standing on my feet all the damn time and from falling on both of em several times. i have to walk with a cane just to climb these three flights of concrete stairs in my building. and yeah, i know i need to lose weight, but fat lazy bitch that i am, again i say FUCK IT. i had dropped about 30 pounds before i stopped working, to the point my fucking uniforms started hanging offa me. now if i were to try em all on they'd be too fuckin small. FUCK IT.

i just got too much jumbled shit churnin around in my head. God help me, please.....i dont know what the hell else to do.....

emotionally numb

today i just feel like my emotions have had a whopping dose of Novacaine injected into them. i'm not depressed, just...numb for lack of a better word. i mean, all my bills are paid, my rent is paid, i have food in my crib, but i cant understand for the life of me why i feel so emotionally numb inside. i guess i got a industrial-strength case of anhedonia meaning "loss of pleasure." that seems to fit my mood right now. i should be out and about enjoying the sun and cooler temperatures, but instead i'd rather just hide away from the world.

people that i know say i am talented and i should share my talents to the world, because i like to draw, and also write poetry. and it's funny -- those very things used to give me a lot of pleasure. i used to do open mike poetry events....now, i just dont want to be bothered. *sigh*

i fill my days now getting up out of bed, and sitting at this computer all day long, either surfing or playing Yahoo! computer games. what friends i used to hang out with, i just dont want to no more...i mean my godson is a DJ, and he plays the kind of music i like which is dusties (an affectionate term black folks here in Chi-town call 'oldies') and there was a time i would not be sittin at home on a saturday night but hangin wit him and dancin my ass off. now......i cant be bothered. i mean, sittin in a old-ass lounge with some even older-ass old men and women perched at the bar or elsewhere just dont fly wit me. and i hate when them old-ass-Viagra-taking muthafuckas try to push up on me....shit, go take yo old ass home and soak ya dentures, Poli-Grip breath, damn!

i am gonna call my T tomorrow and set up an appointment. maybe by talkin somma this shit out will help me feel better --- i dunno. as i said in my last post, i aint combed this sheep's ass head of mine, i aint bothered to take a bath, i just dont feel like doing a goddam thing. the TV is on watchin the room, and i could really care less. my teenage daughter is gatherin her clothes together to do her laundry...me? fuck it. i'm lucky if i summon up the energy to wash out some draws for myself. nothing --- absolutely NOTHING interests me right now. so FUCK IT.

if anybody else out there has/is feelin what i'm sayin here, holla back, a'ight?

three tears in a bucket, muthaFUCK it.

the 'fuck-its'

yep. that's how i feel right now...i have what i affectionately call a case of the "fuck-its". the 'fuck its' happen for me when i have a boatload of shit aimlessly running thru my head and i aint got the energy to figure the shit out so i just say 'fuck it.' it's when shit that is too stupid and asinine beyond belief is just too stupid and asinine beyond belief that you can't fuckin figure it out...enter the 'fuck its'.

for those of y'all who like the term 'the fuck-its' please feel free to use it as you like....fuck it lol

have you ever just felt like nothing fuckin matters no more?

have you ever wished you could just dis-ap-fucking-pear because people in general make you sick?

have you ever looked at a so called "sane" person and knew deep down inside that they were a raving lunatic too?

have you seen these stupid drug commercials where they tell you the side effects of certain medications...i.e., Viagra (sorry guys no disrespect to those who take the shit a'ight?) that
it "may cause blindness?" WTF??????? oh yeah that's a winner right there....you have a hard dick but unfortunately you gotta use a Braille condom because you've gone fuckin blind!!!!!
oh yeah...you'll get a woody, but ya cant fuckin SEE it! damn, i had always heard that if a guy jacked off too much he'd go blind.....wtf?

have you ever just felt like slapping the shit outta somebody on general purpose?

fuck it....


have you ever had the 'fuck-its'? if so, holla back at me!

Quote from George Clinton of "Parliament/Funkadelic -- "three tears in a bucket, mutha

FUCK IT!!!!!!!"


i'm out. holla!

thoughts

i know it's been a while since my last post. it's been bill paying and rent paying time and i have been out in the hot sun running around trying to take care of my business. i finally figured out why i have felt numb...i think my pdoc increased my meds so that the pain of losing my dad wouldnt send me over the edge and back into the hospital again. it makes perfect sense now. still -- i have moments of feeling empty and lonely, but i have a good friend from the PHP program that i talk to regularly. she has bipolar disorder and borderline personality disorder. yet, we talk and try to be as supportive to each other as possible. she is a wonderful person, she's given me clothes and food when i was in need, and i try my best to show her my appreciation to her by doing little things when i can. she's like a sister to me, and if i can help her in some way in the ways she's helped me, i will do my very best to do so.


for those of you who dont have a mental illness, i wouldnt wish it on anyone. it can be very debilitating, and a lot of people simply wont take the time or the effort to learn about them. and it pisses me the hell off when some people say "well, everybody gets depressed. you gonna be alright" and other asinine remarks. i say until you have walked in my shoes, you cant tell me shit about how i feel, ok? that was the issue with my ex -- and now one of her daughters has to see a therapist and take anti-depressant medication because she had an extreme bout of post-partum depression where she hit her baby and now is under investigation by DCFS. oh well...what goes around comes around. she also told me that her son is involved with an obviously psychotic girl -- i mean, who goes and cuts a pair of Jordans in half and then nails it to the door with a fucking butcher's knife? the girl is obviously mentally unbalanced, and i hate to say it, but i have this gut feeling she's gonna go over the edge one day with all the bullshit that is going on with her children. oh, and her other daughter and baby have to be tested for Hepatitis C, because when the girl got a transfusion of some sorts, her doctor told her it was infected with the Hep C virus, and get this -- the people who provide blood, plasma and platelets -- i wont say their name but they know who they are -- had told her doctor not to tell her about it! is that fucked up or what? um, can you say lawsuit? i think the hell so! so like i said, it aint gonna be long before all of this takes its toll on her and she winds up in therapy. oh well. shit happens.


and mind you, i'm not jumping up and down with glee about what's going on with her children, but i see it as comeuppance time for the times she was not supportive of me. i am genuinely sorry all of that is going on with her children, but as i say, it's all gonna back up in her one day, and she's gonna need therapy just to keep her own self sane. but for now, all i can do is pray for her and her family. hell, right now i'm doing whatever it takes to keep ME sane.

anyways, that's it for now. feel free to post comments....they would be greatly appreciated.

remission.....for now.............

well. it's been a little over three months since i was discharged from the partial hospital program. i had been doing volunteer work off and on at Mercy Hospital and also at the DuSable Museum. but now, i dont know...i feel numb. maybe it's because my pdoc increased my Zoloft dosage from 100 mg to 150.....i dunno. usually my days start with getting up and smoking a cigarette, and then sitting at this computer for hours either playing computer games or just surfing the 'Net.

truthfully i dont know what to really do with my days....sometimes i have energy to burn, some times i dont. and i feel like i'm going back into seclusion to the point where i dont want to come out of the house unless absolutely necessary. i volunteered at the museum a total of three times, and the volunteer manager lady called me today and asked if i was available for some events taking place over the weekend -- tonight and tomorrow night. i told her no for tonight -- that i wasnt feeling well and that i would have to give tomorrow a lot of thought. i already know i'm not gonna go because my period came and has been giving me hell and truthfully i'm not in the mood to be around a lot of people. i just prefer the safety of my dirty little apartment, cocoooned away from the rest of the world. last sunday the temperature hit 102 degrees and i did not come out of the house until nightfall to go buy a pack of smokes and even then it was warm and muggy out. now i hear next week is gonna go back up to the 90s ----fuck!

i took my nighttime meds three hours ago and for the life of me i dont want to lie down but my body keeps telling me to do it. when i start twitching around in this chair then that's my cue.

oh well. i'm in remission now.....for how long? i have no clue.

it's so hard to say goodbye -- my father's passing - part 2

sorry i havent written in a while. this past father's day was quite painful for me. as i mentioned in my previous post my dad died back in march, and i was truly devastated about losing him. when i got the news from his lady friend that he was dying, i cried and cried all that night...cried right down to the floor in a crumpled heap of tears. it felt like my heart had been ripped right outta my chest it hurt so much. i was listening to "Can Heaven Wait" by the now late Luther Vandross and it made me cry that much harder because in a way i was begging heaven to please wait until i got a chance to see him before God called him home. but unfortunately i didnt make it in time. he died March 1, 2005. again --- more tears. and i had to get down to South Carolina for the graveside service. thankfully that way had been made and i did make it. since then, i've had my moments where i cry off and on from time to time because i miss him so much. and as i said, this past Father's Day was a bit rough --- for one, my mother died in the same month on June 17, 1987, and then i just lost my father that prior March, so it was a double whammy emotionally for me. however, i did send Father's Day cards to Mama Claudia (his lady friend) to put on his grave, and of course i cried off and on that day while listening to Luther's "Dance With My Father." the lyrics were so poignant, and reminded me of when i was a little girl always running to my daddy much to my mama's chagrin.

now that Father's Day has come and gone, the pain of losing him isnt as bad as it was originally. i still have moments of sadness, but know he is not suffering anymore and him and my mama are back together again in Heaven. my mama truly loved my daddy and was heartbroken when he left her without warning. aside from the cancer that eventually took my mother's life, i truly believe she died from a broken heart because she loved my daddy so.

well. i dont have much to say in this post. stay tuned for periodic postings. peace. also please feel free to post your comments....they would be greatly appreciated.

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.........