Who knew...

that your child could be so ungrateful for everything you had given her over the years.  Forget about the cars I bought for you.  Forget about the 5 thou I gave you to leave him.  Forget about the 20+ thou that you took.  Your mother is now homeless.  HOMELESS.  A game on tv is more important than that?  Your nightly visits to the bar are more important than that?  More important than my mental health?  Did your extensive medical training include anything about depressive disorders?  I guess not

I expected much...

more from you, yes you.  I understand telling some homeless street person "sorry, I just don't have any money for you".  I understand telling some charity "sorry, We just don't have any extra money for you this year".  I don't understand why you think I want your money.  I didn't ask for it.  Yet when you were asked if you could help a family member, the first thought out of your mouth was "I don't have any money to give".  What about your time?  What about your home?  What about some food or clothing?  What about your LOVE?  Aren't those things that you could give too?  You wonder why I don't call?  Why should I when I don't get any support, respect or consideration from you.  The words " I love you" are so hollow when they are not backed up by actions. 

Okay, I get it....

I have no excuse.  I didn't have a bad childhood, I was never molested, I don't have a drug or alcohol problem.  I'm fine?  NOT!  If you are deemed mentally ill because of one or more of these issues, they can handle that, they have treatments for that.  However if you can't pinpoint a reason for your "problem", then you're not sick?  I know how I feel.  I am trying to tell you how I feel and you are understaffed, underpaid, overwhelmed with your own problems?  Fine, then be prepared to sweep up the pieces when they fall. 

Godammit, I need some help here.  I don't know why I can't get out of bed.  I don't know why I cry all the time.  I don't know why I am not hungry and when I do eat every thing tastes like paper.  I don't know why I want to die but at least I am trying to get some help so why don't you help me?  When I tell you I am not taking my meds, you say "oh, you should take them".  Yeah, that will help me remember.  I can't even remember what day it is.  I wake up and I can't tell if it's 7am or 7pm.  I feel like my brain is turning inside out and morphing into something like oatmeal. 

I feel like anything that ever made me happy has been taken away from me.  I want it back

Why am I not....

surprised.  Once again my "family" has screwed me over and twice on Sunday.  Never trust anyone after a cult gets a hold of their brain.  Shit IS fucked up and bullshit!  There is a atmosphere in this country that has infected the majority of people/sheeple to believe that it is more important to take care of "number 1" before you do anything else.  What happened to "love thy neighbor"?  What happened to "family first"? You wonder why I am depressed?  Watch this video or this one, or this one, or even this one.  There are a lot more out there too.  The story of Monsanto will make you lose your lunch.  Just when we should be holding on to each other and helping our fellow human beings and this planet, that is precisely when we lose our shit and fuck it up even more. I HAVE HAD IT up to HERE!!

Does this look like Disneyland to you??  Well this is what we are facing in this country.  Would you please just WAKE THE FUCK UP!!  WAKE UP!

It just might be time to occupy the farm.

Shall we Dance?

this story in the NY Times illustrates once again why we Occupy.

  I arrived at Zuccotti Park yesterday about 3:30pm to help celebrate the return of the Guitarmy after their 99 mile march to benefit school music programs and honor the great singer/songwriter, Woody Guthrie.  I admit I have been absent from the movement much of the spring and early summer due to some personal problems.  My latest doctor said last week, I need to get out more, Mr. Spock (in a facebook meme) told me the needs of the many out weigh the needs of the few or the one and I really missed the musicality of the park so with a trifecta like that, I had to go.  As I had done in the past, I loaded up my shopping cart with knitting and my folding lawn chair (the one I have had since I was a chaperone at my kids band camp 20 yrs ago).

  There I sat, all afternoon and into the evening knitting, and under the watchful eyes of Brookfield Properties and the NYPD.  After it got dark I heard some people start to get wary about the sudden increase in numbers of officers around the park.  This has been a tactic of the department for a long time, use the darkness to cover up anything they might do that is illegal.  In the amount of time that it takes to take a single breath, I was surrounded by many men in white shirts, BP security and NYPD alike.  I was asked to leave.  I inquired about being shown the rules, in writing, while I put away my knitting, stood up, folded my chair and put in on my shopping cart.  I was trying to comply (clearly shown in this video) with their "request" to exit the park (hampered by my bad night vision with all the flashbulbs) when an officer grabbed my cart and tried to take it from me.  I said, that's private property.  That was when I felt a leather gloved (now known to be Lombardo) hand grab my wrist and I panicked.

  I think some deeply hidden childhood training must have taken over my body because I did a "duck and cover" maneuver.  I also heard myself screaming, but couldn't see what was going on because I couldn't open my eyes due to the panic attack.  Fortunately there are many in the OWS family that film the police.  I became aware of the voice of an angel (OWS medic and angel) telling me that it will be okay.  She helped me to the other side of the street and stayed with me until I stopped shaking.  Many more of my fellow human beings came over to offer water and comfort.

 Here is where things in my head get confused.  I was brought up to ask "Police Officers" for help if I was distressed.  They were supposed to be the knights in shining armor that come to your rescue when you are in trouble.  THEY ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THE CAUSE OF THE TROUBLE.  I was doing nothing wrong or even illegal.  I was even trying to comply with their commands even though there was no legal basis for them to ask me to leave that public park.  You must be asking yourself why did they feel the need to do this?  Surely the woman must have done something.  Now I don't want to get all "conspiracy theory" on you but, the thoughts of some of my fellow occupiers was that they were trying to incite violence by attacking "the knitter" (my handle in the park).  They have been filming us as well and I'm sure they want the same kind of evidence that we have against them.  They didn't get it last night.  They did however get my knitting which was not returned to me.  I never intended on becoming an icon of the movement but I guess that is what happens when you show up peacefully knitting things everyday that you give away to people.

What a lovely ride.....

....I had in an ambulance this afternoon.  I went to the appointment downtown to be evaluated for disability and had a pretty good melt down.  All I have wanted, since that first appointment in January, was for someone to listen to me.  NO!  To HEAR me.  Well, the doctor heard me loud and clear today.  I just couldn't handle anymore.  I have talked to countless people on the phone and in offices until I was blue in the face.  I had let that infected tooth go for so long and I stopped talking my bp and sugar meds.  What more do you want me to do so you see I don't want to be here like this anymore???  Ya wanna see blood?  Ya wanna see broken bones?  What is the difference??  I am a woman brought up in the subservient sixties.  The one the doctor pats on the head when you get stitches and calls you a brave little girl for not crying.  Well now I am crying and crying hard so why did it take more than six months (here in NYC, a lot longer if you count MI too) to get some help when I did finally ask.  I know it is almost 5pm and your lovely wifey probably has dinner waiting, or reservations and you have a timetable, but it is really disrespectful to talk to so fast and keep interrupting me when I am trying to tell you why I am here in your locked up psych ward.  The cloud of dust you left as you handed me off was visible.  Way to make someone feel good. 

When you see...

...a doctor, aren't you supposed to feel better when you leave than when you got there.  I saw the "psychiatrist" on Tuesday and you would think that as I left the office, I would finally have some hope of getting the help I have been seeking for over 6 weeks.  Instead, once again, I felt the sting of humiliation and despair.  "you won't get the emergency assistance and you will be homeless, you better face up to that, and I really don't think you qualify for disability either"  My interpretation...  Why don't you get off your fat lazy ass and get a job you loser.  Oh yeah, and no meds either.  Just go home and cry some more, who cares.  I don't ask for help until I really need it and then to not get it is just......................

On one hand...

... it was a good thing to go to the appointment.  I was evaluated and found disturbed enough to warrant 2 more appointments.  One for introduction to a group therapy leader and the other one for the actual psychiatrist, the one with the drugs.  On the other hand, I was reminded of how far I have fallen into the pit.  I'm thinking now would not be a good time to re-read "the Bell Jar".

Three and a half...

...days and counting.  I didn't think it would be this hard to wait just 2 weeks.  I never should have let it get this bad.  I don't know how long it will take to make it right.  I don't know if I want to go back or move forward.  I know I was once happy but they say you "can't go home again".  To move forward into the unknown does not mean happiness either.  What the hell am I supposed to do then?  I tried, I really did.  Then why did I fail, time after time?  Everyone says, it's all out there, just grab it.  Who greased the pig so I couldn't hang on???

Half way there..

to my appointment.  I think it may rain, sinus headache

And the phone.....

finally rings.  I have an appointment for May 31st.  Well that is better than August isn't it?  I guess I just have to hold out for 2 weeks.  I can do that standing on my head, or lying in bed which is what I have been doing for the last 2 weeks anyway.  It takes a lot longer than that for any passive suicidalism to take effect so I hope y'all will stop worrying about me at least for now.  I do appreciate my fam and friends who have shown concern even if I don't answer back when you post.  I don't have internet everyday so I tend to procrastinate responses in favor of virtual farms that need my attention, so goes my disease.

Really?

I went to the doctors nearly 2 weeks ago hoping to get some help for my depression.  My PCP referred me to the pysch at the clinic, went to get an appointment and they said not until August.  Really?  So I called the insurance provider and asked for a list of docs I could call to get seen sooner.  First number, machine.  Really?  Second number, not an outpatient clinic.  Really?  Third number, left message on machine, never called me back.  Really?  This makes me even more depressed and I quit trying.  Got the book of providers in the mail so today I started making calls again.  Called the third number again, left message, no call back.  Really?  Called another number that I found in the book, machine.  Really?  and again, same, and again, same, and again, same.  Really?  All these mental health professionals never answer the phone??  during regular business hours?  Really?  I finally get through on the fifth call to a real person who says she will have someone call me back.  STILL WAITING!!

My take on things

I know some of you didn't like the meme I posted last week. You made it very clear with the hateful and condescending things you posted in the comments causing me to moderate my comments for the first time ever. I made my point so I took it down. Some of it was so bad that the website asked me if I wanted to report it as abuse. I did not.

If you don't understand why I made it in the first place then you haven't been paying attention. I have had it with the hateful things I have seen on Facebook in the last few months and it was my way of expressing my feelings. The comments directed toward me have made me feel that, in your eyes, I have lived out my usefulness and I should just shut up and die. That may have not been the words you used but it is how I was made to feel. These things did not come from some random people, it was from my own family members. My comments, on Facebook, were not hateful. They were stated in a questioning manner and also in an informative manner.

This is not an apology, it is an explanation. I was extremely depressed when I came back to NY and I had found something to bring me out of it. That something was Occupy Wall Street. I found something that woke up my passions and gave me something to do everyday. I had not been able to find a job and that only added to the depression. The response to this was to insult me outright in the public forum of FB. No one had my back and no one questioned the abuse in any way except offline. Some even agreed with it. This only reinforced the abuse to me. I expressed myself OFF Facebook in my own blog and then got crap for that too.

If you don't like the way I express myself in my own blog, you don't have to read it. If you want to help, maybe you could buy something from me so I can try to pay some bills. I am working on getting better but it takes time.

Depression, what is it?

As defined by the US Library of Medicine...

"Depression may be described as feeling sad, blue, unhappy, miserable, or down in the dumps. Most of us feel this way at one time or another for short periods."

"True clinical depression is a mood disorder in which feelings of sadness, loss, anger, or frustration interfere with everyday life for weeks or longer."

Doctors can be quick to prescribe and that can be a problem. I don't think some of the people in my life understand the difference between those 2 definitions above. If you did you would not blame me so much.

That is all I am going to say

and now I am going to say this...brain cloudy, eyes red, nose stuffy, why do I let people get to me