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

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. 

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

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