Getting back my knitting mojo

I love to find things to knit that support activist activities and causes.  This one is for the mothers out there that want to nurse in public places.  Why not?  It is the most normal and healthy thing to do for your baby.  So do you want a baby hat for you child or maybe you know someone who would appreciate the positive statement that it makes.  Makes a great shower gift! 

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

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.

My Robin Hood...

...will not "rob" from the rich.  My Robin Hood would make sure we are not robbed either.  I don't require a huge redistribution of wealth.  I know that a lot of Occupy Wall Street folk are focused on the extensive gap between the wealthiest and poorest in this nation.  I am constantly seeing statistics about "they" have this and "we" have not.  I'm not against statistics but when all you do is publish them, without a corresponding solution, then they fall flat.

  All I want is, what would be considered by (IMO) the majority of people, what is fair.  Right now the minimum wage is not fair.  The average income for the "middle class" is lower now than in 1968.  Too many people can't "get by"* without a second job.  After working for over 40 years and paying into the SSI system, I should not have to worry about it not being there.

My Robin Hood would make infrastructure and the ensuing jobs a top priority.  My Robin Hood would mandate a "living wage" for our essential people like teachers, nurses and other service people that take care of us and our children.  My Robin Hood would focus on sustainable industries like wind and solar power.  My Robin Hood would have a heart and end the wars and safe guard our food.

I don't think I am asking for anything out of this world or unreasonable.  I don't think most of the people I know are either.  "We" don't want handouts, we want a helping hand to get back up on our feet.

I want a Robin Hood to vote for.    Could that be the Green Party?  I can only hope that my Robin Hood  is out there somewhere.

*get by is being able to pay for an affordable home, car and food without a struggle, being able to put a little away for a rainy day and not living from paycheck to paycheck.  This does not include luxury items, just being comfortable and having "enough".

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.

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???

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.

Seriously?!?!

Round 3.  Called the last number back and was told that it usually takes 2-3 business days to get the call back I was waiting for.  Seriously?!?!  If I had a fever would it take 3 months to get an appointment?  If I had a broken arm would I have to wait 3 days for the scheduler to call me back?  Why is mental health taking such a back seat.  I am still in sick, I am still hurting.  I am not trying to get an appointment to get my teeth cleaned.  I am trying not to die.  Seriously

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.

Writing this is one of the hardest thing I have ever done

To whom it may concern,

  I know that I have always put on a happy face and I say that everything is fine.  Guess what, it isn't.  I have been made to feel that when I had money, I was useful and now that I don't, I am not.  I always worked hard, lived frugally and I gave generously.  I have never been one to covet the latest gadgets or fashions.  The fact that I feel like I have been thrown aside may surprise some people but that is why I am writing this post.  I have looked for work but now I have given up on that.  I thought I had a lifemate but now I know that was all a lie as well. I am truly alone.

  Maybe I have too much pride, or maybe I am just to ashamed  to ask for help.  I know that if I don't tell anyone that I need something then I can't expect to get it.  You can't read my mind but you could open your eyes. 

  Here is what I can't put into words on the phone or in person.  I will use the written form to say what I can't say to your face.  I need help.  Plain and simple as that.  I am depressed and I find it hard to get out of bed everyday.  I am crying just trying to type this.  I won't be able to pay my rent next month.  I have trouble eating because 75% of my teeth are gone and I have one tooth that is infected and oozing green puss.  It has been like that for months and I had heard that such an infection can get in your blood stream and kill you. I have been waiting to die.  This seems like a better way than walking in front of a bus.  Since that has not happened I am starting to think maybe I am supposed to be here for a while longer for some reason even though I don't know what that is.

"You should apply for state/federal aid".  Yes, I know and everyday when I get dressed and think about going out and facing that bureaucratic staredown I go back to bed.  I just don't have the energy to try.

"What about your family?"  My family doesn't understand the depth of my depression.  All they saw was the physical mess in the house and not the mental/emotional mess I (I am a good actor and I do most of my crying in private) had become and they threw me out.  When they do reach out to me it feels like a hollow chore they must perform to make themselves feel better or a scolding about how I don't keep in touch.  Somewhere in the back corner of my brain I know they love me.  I just can't feel it right now.

Over the last three months I found something to do that did make me feel a bit better.  Knitting for Occupy Wall Street.  I felt I was making a contribution.  I met some nice people that seemed to like me.  I learned a lot about my country that surprised me and made me want to help change things.  The problem is, that until I get better, I don't think I can do much to help.  A 'cause' can't cure me.

Words hurt.  Actions even more.  I'm glad that you have a ...game/toy/coat/shoes/hairdo/house/job/car/vacation/dinner/dog/high score/opinion... but right now I just don't care.  Seeing all those things posted on facebook and twitter are just a slap in the face to me right now. 

I didn't write this to get attention.  I just needed to say things that were in my head the only way I knew how to get them out.  I suppose it should make me feel better.  I will wait and see.