When I last wrote, I was signalling that there was a change in my life. Yes, there has been a mighty change in my life. I feel much more confident since I have understood the recovery model for Mental Illness. Previously, I looked at my situation as being hopeless. Here I was stuck with a mind and it was going haywire from time to time without the benefit of me trying to recover. Instead, I was being pacified and told "stay on your meds" by the treatment model of the past.
You have to understand, from my viewpoint, just existing was not enough for me. Just being supported by the government wasn't my viewpoint of an existence. I had to know that I made a difference to society. You may say, "You worked long and hard, just relax!" However, I have a mind and it wasn't being used. THAT was very frustrating to me. As I presented in previous posts and presentations my philosophy in life was and still is, "brains not brawn!" Not to say work less but to emphasize that you should make a difference with you life to help others. We all contribute to society is some form or fashion. Even the homeless, which I once, was have a position in society, that is to tap into our empathy and assist them from the rocky bottom that they are in. Trust me, speaking to many of them, they do not want to be in that position of lack of self-worth. I digress now.
Let me get to the point of the post. THERE is hope for those who are willing to risk the comfort zone and move out of the treatment model into the recovery model. This is not a new aspect of psychology but it is a new approach to an old problem. How do we assist those who are afflicted with mental illness? Placing labels on them and placing them in a corner doesn't help the matter other than place them out of society's vision for a little time. But when the bill comes in to pay for those services, society has to pay the piper.
So, what is the recovery model anyway. The model is that through the assistance of peers and professionals the person can become self-empowered and raise up from the illness to function again in society within his or her limitations. That in a nutshell is the recovery model. By no means does it mean to stop taking medication. Instead, the model advocates the foundation to stability is a good medication regime, medication management and then the development of empowerment practices to regain from what has been taken away by the illness.
Does this mean going back to work again? Yes and no. Depending upon the situation, someone could go back to work part time as I did. This helps the person gain his or her self-esteem and self worth. So what should the family and the consumer of psychiatric services consider. From my point of view, the person should look into the frequency of relapses and if they are currently stable. Stability of 1 year would be a good point to start from. Remember going back to work means the added pressures of the environment. Also, the family members need to see how the work process would increase the self-esteem of their family member verses causing another relapse. This decision should not and cannot be made in a vacuum. Instead it needs the input of the consumer, his or her doctor/psychologist/case worker/and or other professional along with the family.
If not going back to work is the answer, volunteering would be a good start for the person. There are many organizations that need people to help them. So, how do I find an organization? VolunteerAmerica.com is a starting point. Your local church is another. Something were the person would need to get up in the morning, start their day and socialize with other people other than being isolated at home.
Will this model of treatment of mental health move forward? Yes, I truly believe so as more and more institutions/agencies look at the whole portion of the person they see the benefit from a financial and psychological perspective. Through Peer Support Programs from organizations and agencies the message is: Hey I am a whole person who needs guidance, empathy and most of all some direction! I have value!
These programs most likely will augment the traditional delivery system of mental health and provide a means to holistically approach mental illness one person at a time.
Thank you for taking the time to read my post!
Friday, February 4, 2011
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
On Track to a Better Life
Several months have past since my last post. The reason being that I have been busy with making a life in Fort Worth. When we last left off I was looking for an apartment to live. I did find an apartment and a roommate. The first roommate was not the best, but we kept our dialogue to peaceful. My life was coming together and I thank God that it was. I could start to function in society once again. Sure there were moments that were very difficult for me, but I am a survivor so I plodded along moving to the goal of independance and functioning once again.
The first thing that I needed to accomplish was to find a position that would use my skills as a teacher and orator. I had a message to deliver to all and that was important. Indirectly, I needed to give hope to all that were in the same boat that I was in and directly, I needed to send a clear signal to my family that I could make it in the world. The last direct message they had given me was that we want no part of you. I was bound and determined to show them, out of anger, that I could definitely make it.
I searched all over for a position. I turned Fort Worth upside down to find work. That is an important message to give those who are in the same state of mind that I was. There is hope and you can do it. I met my case worker and she was an inspiration to me. She pushed when it was important to me and picked my spirits up when they needed to be. I did find a position at the local community college teaching anatomy and physiology. Can you imagine that, a person that was deemed incompetent now teaching anatomy and physiology! I was good at teaching and to this day I am still teaching, part time, the same subject. I have had rave reviews by my students and acceptance by the Dean and Chairman of the Department. So, I look back and realize that I had it in me all the time. All I needed was the support by people, albeit not my family, and the gumption to do it.
I tried to make connection with my family, but to no avail. The wanted nothing to do with me. The holiday season was the hardest and most difficult. You see to me the family was the central part of my life and not to have them, be as dysfunctional as they were, was devastating. Here I would like to not something that I hadn't all along. The family of the person who has gone through and continues with mental health illness, needs support. For you see, I am now on the Adult Mental Health Community Advisory Committee. I am an advocate of all those who have mental health issues. I listen to those families that there love ones have been stricken by the disease and empathize with them. I hear and remember how my family was through hell during those years. So, I understand in a way how they didn't want any part of me. However, they haven't given me a chance to demonstrate to them the change that they wanted to see. Instead, they remember all the pain and conditions that they went through.
This is a message to the families of the affected ones, give the loved one a chance and see what happens. Set boundaries, of course, but when you see a change that is desirable praise them and support them. Don't throw the baby out with the bathwater. There is some good left in your loved ones. Maybe they have to hit rock bottom first and then make a turn-around. Who knows but it behooves you to make the effort at least to keep in touch with them. I say that now, even though I realize that if I would go back to the family I would put myself into jeopardy of possibly relapsing with the pressures of a dysfunctional family. In reality the I do fantasize of the family. We all do. We have this Norman Rockwell picture in our heads of how the family should be during the holidays and that is not reality. We do need to wake and smell the roses. Family is what you make of those around you. If I haven't said it before, then I will say it again: You are born into a family of origin, BUT you choose your family of choice. Being gay and with a disillusion family this makes it even more poignant for me.
During this time, since my last post, my life has changed dramatically. I have and continue to speak to the staff of Mental Health and Mental Retardation of Tarrant County on my Journey to Sanity. I give the perspective of someone that is in the recovery mode instead in the medical sustaining mode. This is important to recognize, past models basically had the person sustaining the illness with medication with little hope of recovering and become a functional part of society. Currently, there is another model that is being used--recovering. Recovering allows for the individual to function in society, as best as they can, with their limitations. It is a more positive approach to the situation.
In my case, I am working part time; functioning on Boards, such as the Samaritan House and Mental Health Housing along with now having found a wonderful partner. I am fulfilling my life and feeling more functional again. This is not to say that I don't have my pitfalls. The holiday season is upon us and I reflect upon a lost family, albeit strange as they may be. The message here is that there is hope for those affected and effected by mental health illness. It is the perseverance that is important. The family needs to perservere and so does the love one. It may see hopeless at times, but there is nothing that we go through that is not for a purpose. Maybe to help someone else or for self reflection but there is always a purpose if we reflect positively.
Thank you for reading and I will be posting more regularly now.
The first thing that I needed to accomplish was to find a position that would use my skills as a teacher and orator. I had a message to deliver to all and that was important. Indirectly, I needed to give hope to all that were in the same boat that I was in and directly, I needed to send a clear signal to my family that I could make it in the world. The last direct message they had given me was that we want no part of you. I was bound and determined to show them, out of anger, that I could definitely make it.
I searched all over for a position. I turned Fort Worth upside down to find work. That is an important message to give those who are in the same state of mind that I was. There is hope and you can do it. I met my case worker and she was an inspiration to me. She pushed when it was important to me and picked my spirits up when they needed to be. I did find a position at the local community college teaching anatomy and physiology. Can you imagine that, a person that was deemed incompetent now teaching anatomy and physiology! I was good at teaching and to this day I am still teaching, part time, the same subject. I have had rave reviews by my students and acceptance by the Dean and Chairman of the Department. So, I look back and realize that I had it in me all the time. All I needed was the support by people, albeit not my family, and the gumption to do it.
I tried to make connection with my family, but to no avail. The wanted nothing to do with me. The holiday season was the hardest and most difficult. You see to me the family was the central part of my life and not to have them, be as dysfunctional as they were, was devastating. Here I would like to not something that I hadn't all along. The family of the person who has gone through and continues with mental health illness, needs support. For you see, I am now on the Adult Mental Health Community Advisory Committee. I am an advocate of all those who have mental health issues. I listen to those families that there love ones have been stricken by the disease and empathize with them. I hear and remember how my family was through hell during those years. So, I understand in a way how they didn't want any part of me. However, they haven't given me a chance to demonstrate to them the change that they wanted to see. Instead, they remember all the pain and conditions that they went through.
This is a message to the families of the affected ones, give the loved one a chance and see what happens. Set boundaries, of course, but when you see a change that is desirable praise them and support them. Don't throw the baby out with the bathwater. There is some good left in your loved ones. Maybe they have to hit rock bottom first and then make a turn-around. Who knows but it behooves you to make the effort at least to keep in touch with them. I say that now, even though I realize that if I would go back to the family I would put myself into jeopardy of possibly relapsing with the pressures of a dysfunctional family. In reality the I do fantasize of the family. We all do. We have this Norman Rockwell picture in our heads of how the family should be during the holidays and that is not reality. We do need to wake and smell the roses. Family is what you make of those around you. If I haven't said it before, then I will say it again: You are born into a family of origin, BUT you choose your family of choice. Being gay and with a disillusion family this makes it even more poignant for me.
During this time, since my last post, my life has changed dramatically. I have and continue to speak to the staff of Mental Health and Mental Retardation of Tarrant County on my Journey to Sanity. I give the perspective of someone that is in the recovery mode instead in the medical sustaining mode. This is important to recognize, past models basically had the person sustaining the illness with medication with little hope of recovering and become a functional part of society. Currently, there is another model that is being used--recovering. Recovering allows for the individual to function in society, as best as they can, with their limitations. It is a more positive approach to the situation.
In my case, I am working part time; functioning on Boards, such as the Samaritan House and Mental Health Housing along with now having found a wonderful partner. I am fulfilling my life and feeling more functional again. This is not to say that I don't have my pitfalls. The holiday season is upon us and I reflect upon a lost family, albeit strange as they may be. The message here is that there is hope for those affected and effected by mental health illness. It is the perseverance that is important. The family needs to perservere and so does the love one. It may see hopeless at times, but there is nothing that we go through that is not for a purpose. Maybe to help someone else or for self reflection but there is always a purpose if we reflect positively.
Thank you for reading and I will be posting more regularly now.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Baby Steps
So now I am out in the world and stabilized. I had made the decision to live in Fort Worth but I knew nothing of the area except that small portion between Sundance Square and Union Gospel Mission on E. Lancaster. What was I suppose to do?
The Social Worker from the jail had assured me that I would be living in a group home and that I was to call the manager once I was released. I called him but there was no answer. I proceeded down familiar roads carrying a bag of clothes and what little money I had made at North Texas Hospital. You see because I was doing well at the facility; they have a work program earning money shredding paper. So with that money I proceeded out into the world. The bank was closed and I was in a strange but familiar city.
I asked a gentleman, at the bus stop, where there was a place to spend a nite? He told me that there was a place off Lancaster that was ok for $30.00 a nite. So, with bag in hand, I proceeded to take the bus to Lancaster and found the motel. It wasn't the best place in the world but it was shelter. It had a bed and some amenities so it would be better than spending the nite out in the cold. During the nite I thanked God that I was alive and I would call the manager of the group home in the morning. I could barely sleep because of the noises I heard and the anxiousness that I felt, but I tried.
Early the next morning, I awoke and called the manager. He responded that he would pick me up and take me to the group home. I anticipated the worst and expected the best that I could get was a room to stay. When the manager came we went to the East side of Fort Worth and I was amazed to see the homes in the area. I was, however, warned that I shouldn't walk during the nite and I knew what that meant. This wasn't the best part of town.
I met all the members of the group home and was amazed to see that I was in a home with individuals that were in worst shape than I was before. I was befriended by the house manager and started living in a group setting. The first nite was the hardest because I had to go through an initiation by the members. One of the members of the home, placed an empty can of beer in my clothes. I, however, saw this and made a statement at the house meeting that someone was trying to put me into jeopardy of being kicked out of the home. This was resolved with a strong message by the manager and was resolved immediately.
I proceeded through the weeks that I stayed at the group home to find my way through Fort Worth. I remember indeed that one day I tried to contact my family and was rebuked by the statement, "we do not know you." So here I was alone in Texas starting my new life. The first thing on the list of twenty-one things to do was to get a driver's license. I attempted several times to find out how to get my license and this took several trips to the Department of Public Safety. Finally I did receive my license after taking both a written and driving test.
I started looking for a job to support myself by going to the library and writing my resume and starting my search of local teaching positions. I also was very fortunate to start building my church family by finding Agape Community Church. It would take two buses and a two mile walk but I attended regularly. I was befriended quickly and started building a network of friends. In all I was building a network of support and had strategically placed myself in a position that I could move out of the group home in several months.
This brings me to the point that I would like to make with this post. I observed all eight members of the group home. Some of the individuals were clearly bound to stay there for the rest of their lives, but there were some individuals that could make the transition back into society by being productive. However, they didn't. Why? I kept asking myself. Was it because they had not the motivation to try and better themselves. Was it because they could live comfortably on SSI or SSDI and didn't have the stimulus to try. I will never know the answer to that question, however, I knew for myself I would try to better myself and move into an apartment in Fort Worth so as to become part of society once again.
This is an important question I believe for all social workers to address. What motivates my consumer and how can I get him or her to move beyond their circumstances?
Thank you for reading.
The Social Worker from the jail had assured me that I would be living in a group home and that I was to call the manager once I was released. I called him but there was no answer. I proceeded down familiar roads carrying a bag of clothes and what little money I had made at North Texas Hospital. You see because I was doing well at the facility; they have a work program earning money shredding paper. So with that money I proceeded out into the world. The bank was closed and I was in a strange but familiar city.
I asked a gentleman, at the bus stop, where there was a place to spend a nite? He told me that there was a place off Lancaster that was ok for $30.00 a nite. So, with bag in hand, I proceeded to take the bus to Lancaster and found the motel. It wasn't the best place in the world but it was shelter. It had a bed and some amenities so it would be better than spending the nite out in the cold. During the nite I thanked God that I was alive and I would call the manager of the group home in the morning. I could barely sleep because of the noises I heard and the anxiousness that I felt, but I tried.
Early the next morning, I awoke and called the manager. He responded that he would pick me up and take me to the group home. I anticipated the worst and expected the best that I could get was a room to stay. When the manager came we went to the East side of Fort Worth and I was amazed to see the homes in the area. I was, however, warned that I shouldn't walk during the nite and I knew what that meant. This wasn't the best part of town.
I met all the members of the group home and was amazed to see that I was in a home with individuals that were in worst shape than I was before. I was befriended by the house manager and started living in a group setting. The first nite was the hardest because I had to go through an initiation by the members. One of the members of the home, placed an empty can of beer in my clothes. I, however, saw this and made a statement at the house meeting that someone was trying to put me into jeopardy of being kicked out of the home. This was resolved with a strong message by the manager and was resolved immediately.
I proceeded through the weeks that I stayed at the group home to find my way through Fort Worth. I remember indeed that one day I tried to contact my family and was rebuked by the statement, "we do not know you." So here I was alone in Texas starting my new life. The first thing on the list of twenty-one things to do was to get a driver's license. I attempted several times to find out how to get my license and this took several trips to the Department of Public Safety. Finally I did receive my license after taking both a written and driving test.
I started looking for a job to support myself by going to the library and writing my resume and starting my search of local teaching positions. I also was very fortunate to start building my church family by finding Agape Community Church. It would take two buses and a two mile walk but I attended regularly. I was befriended quickly and started building a network of friends. In all I was building a network of support and had strategically placed myself in a position that I could move out of the group home in several months.
This brings me to the point that I would like to make with this post. I observed all eight members of the group home. Some of the individuals were clearly bound to stay there for the rest of their lives, but there were some individuals that could make the transition back into society by being productive. However, they didn't. Why? I kept asking myself. Was it because they had not the motivation to try and better themselves. Was it because they could live comfortably on SSI or SSDI and didn't have the stimulus to try. I will never know the answer to that question, however, I knew for myself I would try to better myself and move into an apartment in Fort Worth so as to become part of society once again.
This is an important question I believe for all social workers to address. What motivates my consumer and how can I get him or her to move beyond their circumstances?
Thank you for reading.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Part IV Goldilocks and the Police
The date is October 31, 2008 and I have been wandering since September 3, 2008. I have made my way to Dallas/Fort Worth the long way you have to say. I have lost all that I own, my documents and my dignity. Now I truly look like one of the homeless without anywhere to go. I am completely delusional and can be seen walking Sundance Square talking to myself and picking up bits of food here and there. I have lost 50 pounds and my clothes, lent to me by Union Gospel Mission, barely fit. I walk aimlessly but no one stops and asks can they help.
I have the survivor instinct and stay away from large crowds, but then I do something that I don't believe myself. I go to a financial institution and open a bank account. I don't have any money but deep inside I know that my check will be arriving soon, November 3rd. The people there are very friendly and make sure that the transaction goes through so the deposit will occur without any problems. What I don't realize is that the whole process will take time. This poses another question for loved ones, mainly, do we allow for finances to be available when a loved one is in a manic state? I don't know the answer to this question, but I believe for the safety of the individual it would be in his/her good interest. It would also allow the family to tract down where they, the loved one, has been. Giving a lead to find them and rescue them from their disease.
I have digressed, but now let us turn to that day October 31st. I have made contact with the Vice President of the financial institution and have his card. It is getting cold and I start telling myself that it is time to find a place to sleep. Well there is a bed and breakfast in Fort Worth that I am able to get into and an lo and behold there is an room that is unlocked. Just like Goldilocks I find food and commence to eat it. I take a shower and go to bed. Well, I am awaken by the police who want to know how I got into the room. I tell them that the Vice President, I have the business card, told me to come up to this room and make myself comfortable. They don't buy that I and I am whisked in handcuffs to the holding cells in another part of Fort Worth. I am convicted with trespassing. I am then placed in jail and I don't have the bond to be released.
I spend time in jail until they begin to determine that I have mental issues whereby I am sent to North Texas State Hospital and labeled incompetent. At this point I have experienced being in jail first hand and what it is like to be in a state hospital. I argue that I am not incompetent but the meds have not taken hold yet. It takes three months for the medicine to work and during that time I begin to reconstruct this journey which I have had. My brother tries to get executorship of myself but I am lucid enough to fight it. I continue to get better and realize that having my own executorship would be best for me. I also realize that this time in the hospital was the best place for me since I have time to think and also time out of the elements. I try to think of the best place to live and start to live a new life. It then comes to me that, you wanted to live in Texas, this is your opportunity.
By the time I am out of the hospital, I have totally regained my faculties and able to process what I needed to do in order to survive. I have decided to live in Dallas/Fort Worth. Since the family has totally written me off, it would be best for me. Time to start a new life. Meanwhile I had lost all that I had in Florida, all my possessions, but I have my health and can start again.
There is a message in this post and that is, what type of training does the police officials have in determining the mental status of the people they are arresting? This could be an area for further development of inservice programs for them and the jail. This post is not intended to slam the authorities but give them further guidance as to how to improve and catch those who fall through the cracks. I applaud the social worker at the jail when I returned from North Texas State Hospital for her persistence in getting me on my way in a group home and maintaining my medication from the county. I was now a consumer of services from MHMR of Tarrant County.
Thank you for reading and trust that it gives you further food for thought.
I have the survivor instinct and stay away from large crowds, but then I do something that I don't believe myself. I go to a financial institution and open a bank account. I don't have any money but deep inside I know that my check will be arriving soon, November 3rd. The people there are very friendly and make sure that the transaction goes through so the deposit will occur without any problems. What I don't realize is that the whole process will take time. This poses another question for loved ones, mainly, do we allow for finances to be available when a loved one is in a manic state? I don't know the answer to this question, but I believe for the safety of the individual it would be in his/her good interest. It would also allow the family to tract down where they, the loved one, has been. Giving a lead to find them and rescue them from their disease.
I have digressed, but now let us turn to that day October 31st. I have made contact with the Vice President of the financial institution and have his card. It is getting cold and I start telling myself that it is time to find a place to sleep. Well there is a bed and breakfast in Fort Worth that I am able to get into and an lo and behold there is an room that is unlocked. Just like Goldilocks I find food and commence to eat it. I take a shower and go to bed. Well, I am awaken by the police who want to know how I got into the room. I tell them that the Vice President, I have the business card, told me to come up to this room and make myself comfortable. They don't buy that I and I am whisked in handcuffs to the holding cells in another part of Fort Worth. I am convicted with trespassing. I am then placed in jail and I don't have the bond to be released.
I spend time in jail until they begin to determine that I have mental issues whereby I am sent to North Texas State Hospital and labeled incompetent. At this point I have experienced being in jail first hand and what it is like to be in a state hospital. I argue that I am not incompetent but the meds have not taken hold yet. It takes three months for the medicine to work and during that time I begin to reconstruct this journey which I have had. My brother tries to get executorship of myself but I am lucid enough to fight it. I continue to get better and realize that having my own executorship would be best for me. I also realize that this time in the hospital was the best place for me since I have time to think and also time out of the elements. I try to think of the best place to live and start to live a new life. It then comes to me that, you wanted to live in Texas, this is your opportunity.
By the time I am out of the hospital, I have totally regained my faculties and able to process what I needed to do in order to survive. I have decided to live in Dallas/Fort Worth. Since the family has totally written me off, it would be best for me. Time to start a new life. Meanwhile I had lost all that I had in Florida, all my possessions, but I have my health and can start again.
There is a message in this post and that is, what type of training does the police officials have in determining the mental status of the people they are arresting? This could be an area for further development of inservice programs for them and the jail. This post is not intended to slam the authorities but give them further guidance as to how to improve and catch those who fall through the cracks. I applaud the social worker at the jail when I returned from North Texas State Hospital for her persistence in getting me on my way in a group home and maintaining my medication from the county. I was now a consumer of services from MHMR of Tarrant County.
Thank you for reading and trust that it gives you further food for thought.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Part III Plight of the Homeless - Dallas/Fort Worth II
I have now arrived in the Fort Worth/Dallas area and am completely insane if that is the best way of putting it. I am completely delusional thinking that I need to walk and that is what I do...walk and walk and walk. I really don't have any idea why I walk when I am delusional I only know that there is a drive for me to walk. I start losing weight by the pounds because I am not eating either. What meager food that I am getting is coming out of the garbage that someone has thrown out. I am resembling one of the many homeless that you find on E. Lancaster Rd in Fort Worth.
I start my vigilant walk and then notice that there are some services that I can take advantage of at the Day Resource Center for Tarrant County. I am somewhat lucid that I can understand people and act shall we say normal, however, I have been off medication for a while. Does it come to me that I have missed my meds and the answer to this is NO. Instead, I start visiting the Union Gospel Mission, Salvation Army and the Day Resource Center. I observe the people and watch and see that some are doing this for a career while others are not.
I come across a young man that should be at the 10th floor of the JPS but he and I strike a friendship. I am able to relate to him and start speaking to him in great detail. The funny thing is that he is catatonic and doesn't move. I put a flower in his hand and lead him around for food and shelter. I in the meantime have the instincts for survival and continue between shelters and soup kitchens to maintain myself. But I am walking 10-15 miles each day and don't really know where I am going other than from Lancaster to Sundance Square and back. I am the one that you see picking up cigarette butts and smoking them. The one that is talking to no one around and even arguing with myself. No one cares and keeps their distance from me.
Now over a year later I wonder why did I do walk. What type of survival instinct kicked in and allowed me to walk and go to soup kitchens. Was I partially lucid or did something deep inside of me told me to continue no matter what. At one point it was getting so cold that I laid on a park bench shivering and wondering would I survive the night. For you see, the county only allows 3 nites a month to be spent in the shelters. Where you spend the other 27 nites is really up to you. In here is a message of compassion that I believe the people need to address. Where do we allow these people to stay in the cold and rain? Can we find an alternative other than sheltering them so that their housing can be taken care? You have to see E. Lancaster to understand how many people are waiting for a place to spend the nite and get some sort of food.
This poses another question also, "how can we as a society allow people to survive as homeless people?" I as many realize that resources are limited if not existent, but where is the compassion of the people? Where did we stray as people to allow our fellow man to go without food and shelter because they have fallen on bad luck? These are questions that I ask my fellow man. These are hard questions but I would like to digress a bit for an example. In all my walkings throughout the country I can count on one hand the amount of people that helped me out with food or a few dollars.
The one that is most vivid is in DC where I stopped to rest in front of Chinese fast food restaurant. Here the owner instead of pushing me away made motion was I hungry. He came out with a bowl of rice and cold water. The only request that he had was that I sit a bit farther from the entrance of the restaurant. This folks is compassion. This is the love for your fellow man. Can we all say that we would do the same next time you see someone that was in my condition to lend a helping hand?
Well I have digressed, but I wanted to make a point that my homelessness had made on me and I hope that it is making on others who read this post. Search deep in your hearts to see what you would do if you were in this predictament. East of the Mississippi, I came across only 5 people that would help out someone in that was in need. This is sad because the plight of the homeless is growing and still we are not addressing the problem. Are they homeless because of choice or are their circumstances ones that can be addressed. In my case, if a medical professional had seen me, would I still be walking the streets of Dallas/Fort Worth? Or would I have been swished to the 10th floor of JPS for an evaluation? Would the police, which I would encounter in a later post, evaluate me and bring to JPS? These are important questions that we are Fort Worthonians need to ask ourselves. How many can we help in Tarrant County and what is the best way to do so?
Thank you for reading and I hope that I have given you some food for thought.
I start my vigilant walk and then notice that there are some services that I can take advantage of at the Day Resource Center for Tarrant County. I am somewhat lucid that I can understand people and act shall we say normal, however, I have been off medication for a while. Does it come to me that I have missed my meds and the answer to this is NO. Instead, I start visiting the Union Gospel Mission, Salvation Army and the Day Resource Center. I observe the people and watch and see that some are doing this for a career while others are not.
I come across a young man that should be at the 10th floor of the JPS but he and I strike a friendship. I am able to relate to him and start speaking to him in great detail. The funny thing is that he is catatonic and doesn't move. I put a flower in his hand and lead him around for food and shelter. I in the meantime have the instincts for survival and continue between shelters and soup kitchens to maintain myself. But I am walking 10-15 miles each day and don't really know where I am going other than from Lancaster to Sundance Square and back. I am the one that you see picking up cigarette butts and smoking them. The one that is talking to no one around and even arguing with myself. No one cares and keeps their distance from me.
Now over a year later I wonder why did I do walk. What type of survival instinct kicked in and allowed me to walk and go to soup kitchens. Was I partially lucid or did something deep inside of me told me to continue no matter what. At one point it was getting so cold that I laid on a park bench shivering and wondering would I survive the night. For you see, the county only allows 3 nites a month to be spent in the shelters. Where you spend the other 27 nites is really up to you. In here is a message of compassion that I believe the people need to address. Where do we allow these people to stay in the cold and rain? Can we find an alternative other than sheltering them so that their housing can be taken care? You have to see E. Lancaster to understand how many people are waiting for a place to spend the nite and get some sort of food.
This poses another question also, "how can we as a society allow people to survive as homeless people?" I as many realize that resources are limited if not existent, but where is the compassion of the people? Where did we stray as people to allow our fellow man to go without food and shelter because they have fallen on bad luck? These are questions that I ask my fellow man. These are hard questions but I would like to digress a bit for an example. In all my walkings throughout the country I can count on one hand the amount of people that helped me out with food or a few dollars.
The one that is most vivid is in DC where I stopped to rest in front of Chinese fast food restaurant. Here the owner instead of pushing me away made motion was I hungry. He came out with a bowl of rice and cold water. The only request that he had was that I sit a bit farther from the entrance of the restaurant. This folks is compassion. This is the love for your fellow man. Can we all say that we would do the same next time you see someone that was in my condition to lend a helping hand?
Well I have digressed, but I wanted to make a point that my homelessness had made on me and I hope that it is making on others who read this post. Search deep in your hearts to see what you would do if you were in this predictament. East of the Mississippi, I came across only 5 people that would help out someone in that was in need. This is sad because the plight of the homeless is growing and still we are not addressing the problem. Are they homeless because of choice or are their circumstances ones that can be addressed. In my case, if a medical professional had seen me, would I still be walking the streets of Dallas/Fort Worth? Or would I have been swished to the 10th floor of JPS for an evaluation? Would the police, which I would encounter in a later post, evaluate me and bring to JPS? These are important questions that we are Fort Worthonians need to ask ourselves. How many can we help in Tarrant County and what is the best way to do so?
Thank you for reading and I hope that I have given you some food for thought.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Part II Plight of the Homeless I
Well, it is the 3rd of September, 2008 and my social security disability funds have been transferred into my bank account. At this point in time, I am completely delusional and believe that I am having to leave Florida because I have an interview in San Antonio, Texas with the University of Texas personnel. Why Texas, I will never know but the only potential reason that I can come up with is that my x-inlaws lived in McKinney, Texas and I was attracted to that site. In the previous Forrest Gump I, I was attracted to the ocean. If there is a message here it is that when, God forbidden, your loved ones start a walk it is to look at what they are attracted to and search for them there.
Let us focus now to the Forrest Gump II. I walked to the nearest motel with my briefcase carrying all that I would need for an interview plus important documents and a small carry on suitcase with some clothes. I then went to Tampa International Airport and purchased a one-way ticket to San Antonio. On the flight to San Antonio, I would re-examine my documents because I was positive that I would be able to procure a position with the University. If I had stopped and thought about it in a sane fashion I would realize that with a Master's degree I would have had a hard time procuring a professorship at U of T. In any event, I landed in San Antonio and proceeded to rent a car. I couldn't because I had a one-way ticket and ended up taking a taxi to the southside of San Antonio. There I found out that U of T was on the northside so I took another taxi to a hotel closer to U of T.
I had brought some pills but not all of them. I swore to myself that I didn't need them and that this was only an emergency situation. Because you see, in my delusional state, I was convinced that I needed to go to George Washington University Hospital and debate their assessment of my mental condition. Instead the walking started again. Not knowing the city at all, I started walking on the northside of San Antonio and spent a week trying to get back to the hotel. Luckily, I had left my checkbook and important documents with the concierge of the hotel or I would have lost them there is San Antonio. This walk without food or water proceeded until I returned to the hotel, changed clothes and managed to get to the airport one more time bound for DC. My mood was one of agitated and yet it was functional. You see I had worked on years of having a facade of a totally sane person. My intellect was working and it was only that my conclusions were off. Another point to be brought out is that when someone is delusional it is not like they are totally space cadets, they can and most likely are stating facts it is just that the conclusions are off base.
I headed to DC with limited funds and this time without the medication. When I landed in DC I was bound and determined to find George Washington University Hospital. So, though I had my faculties I started my journey. I kept my bag of important documents in hand and sought out the hospital. This lead to walking DC day and night. I started to look more and more like a homeless person. So, how does a homeless person really look. The answer is a little ragged on the edges. In DC, I kept my distance from the police and just kept walking. I was starting to loose weight but didn't look too bad. I visited soup kitchens and stayed at shelters. I was a survivor and was bound and determined to find this hospital. I did find the hospital eventually, and was seen several times with headaches which is the side-effect of lack of my medication. However, they, health care personnel, couldn't find anything wrong and would feed me a sandwich. So I would start my walk again in the cold and wet DC.
At one point, I was looking more tattered and had no money left. I was walking to George Washington University Hospital, when a homeless person was stationed with his belongings near the hospital. He begged for money, I had three cents left. I offered him a penny. His response was condemnation and that he would give me a dollar to get away from him. I thought to myself I am giving something I barely have and he is so ungrateful. I know that this is the perception given to those who are unfortunate to be homeless but look deep into their hearts and examine what their condition is or is not.
It was getting colder in DC and it was closer to October when I became more concerned with getting to Texas. Instinctly, I knew that I would have to escape the cold and move south. One evening when I was walking the streets of DC it became so cold that I hid myself behind a waste basket at the entrance of the Metro. I thought that I would die right there because all I had was a pair of shorts, a shirt and sandals. I am a survivor and I picked myself up and decided that this was not going to be the place that I die cold and hungry. I started walking to the police station that was near there and met another homeless person who gave me a sandwich to eat. He directed me to Grand Central Station. This was the middle of October and my social security disability funds had come in again. However, I didn't know how much or little there was in my funds. I boarded a train with what I had left in funds I thought I had and headed to Dallas, Texas.
**A note to take is if the family is able to track their loved one on a walkabout try to trace their expenditures to find out what they are doing. The thought does come to mind that you can stop the funds from being spent, however, the dilemma is that they will be left penniless and out on the streets. Maybe another way would be to limit their funds instead of giving them free access.
You can only imagine the looks and stares that people had as I boarded the train. This was the first train ride that I had and I was making all sorts of friends on the train, I thought. I was in a talkative mood by then and just about talked to every tom, dick or harry. At one point, the person sitting next to me gave me a bar of soap and told me to go into the bathroom to clean up a bit. I did and that seemed to elevate the problem a bit. So I was on my way to Dallas. The train went from DC to Chicago and I was getting worse by the second.
When I boarded the connecting train from Chicago to Dallas, Texas Eagle, I was in bad shape. I was in very bad shape. I started walking up and down the train and greeting everyone there. I called myself the train's greeter and made sure that everyone knew about the train's destination and mode of getting there. At St. Louis, the train stopped and had a problem. We were asked to disembark and I never returned to the train. Again, I started my walking with briefcase in tow. I walked all over St. Louis for a week. This time the delusional portion had given way to me talking to myself. So the next time that you see someone talking to themselves DO not think they are crazy, they may be just out of meds!!!
I will stop here because it is a good place for discussion of the homeless. When we see the homeless we think of them of being worthless people not even worth the ground that they are walking upon. However, do we really know the walk that they are taking? Do we know the situation that has brought them to this point? Do we know if it is a medical condition that has brought them to this condition? I ask you next time that you see a homeless person, don't run, just ask yourself what if I was in that condition, what would I want a passerby to say to me. Now, I am not talking about the homeless who are begging for money, I am speaking to the ones that are on the park bench without the bottle in the wrapper. The ones that are talking to themselves without anyone there. These people need help and we can and should help them. Even if it means that we just sit down and get to know there problems. You may be surprised to find out all about them and yourself.
Thank you for reading and I hope that I have given you food for thought. Plight of the Homeless II will be posted next on the Fort Worth/Dallas episode.
Let us focus now to the Forrest Gump II. I walked to the nearest motel with my briefcase carrying all that I would need for an interview plus important documents and a small carry on suitcase with some clothes. I then went to Tampa International Airport and purchased a one-way ticket to San Antonio. On the flight to San Antonio, I would re-examine my documents because I was positive that I would be able to procure a position with the University. If I had stopped and thought about it in a sane fashion I would realize that with a Master's degree I would have had a hard time procuring a professorship at U of T. In any event, I landed in San Antonio and proceeded to rent a car. I couldn't because I had a one-way ticket and ended up taking a taxi to the southside of San Antonio. There I found out that U of T was on the northside so I took another taxi to a hotel closer to U of T.
I had brought some pills but not all of them. I swore to myself that I didn't need them and that this was only an emergency situation. Because you see, in my delusional state, I was convinced that I needed to go to George Washington University Hospital and debate their assessment of my mental condition. Instead the walking started again. Not knowing the city at all, I started walking on the northside of San Antonio and spent a week trying to get back to the hotel. Luckily, I had left my checkbook and important documents with the concierge of the hotel or I would have lost them there is San Antonio. This walk without food or water proceeded until I returned to the hotel, changed clothes and managed to get to the airport one more time bound for DC. My mood was one of agitated and yet it was functional. You see I had worked on years of having a facade of a totally sane person. My intellect was working and it was only that my conclusions were off. Another point to be brought out is that when someone is delusional it is not like they are totally space cadets, they can and most likely are stating facts it is just that the conclusions are off base.
I headed to DC with limited funds and this time without the medication. When I landed in DC I was bound and determined to find George Washington University Hospital. So, though I had my faculties I started my journey. I kept my bag of important documents in hand and sought out the hospital. This lead to walking DC day and night. I started to look more and more like a homeless person. So, how does a homeless person really look. The answer is a little ragged on the edges. In DC, I kept my distance from the police and just kept walking. I was starting to loose weight but didn't look too bad. I visited soup kitchens and stayed at shelters. I was a survivor and was bound and determined to find this hospital. I did find the hospital eventually, and was seen several times with headaches which is the side-effect of lack of my medication. However, they, health care personnel, couldn't find anything wrong and would feed me a sandwich. So I would start my walk again in the cold and wet DC.
At one point, I was looking more tattered and had no money left. I was walking to George Washington University Hospital, when a homeless person was stationed with his belongings near the hospital. He begged for money, I had three cents left. I offered him a penny. His response was condemnation and that he would give me a dollar to get away from him. I thought to myself I am giving something I barely have and he is so ungrateful. I know that this is the perception given to those who are unfortunate to be homeless but look deep into their hearts and examine what their condition is or is not.
It was getting colder in DC and it was closer to October when I became more concerned with getting to Texas. Instinctly, I knew that I would have to escape the cold and move south. One evening when I was walking the streets of DC it became so cold that I hid myself behind a waste basket at the entrance of the Metro. I thought that I would die right there because all I had was a pair of shorts, a shirt and sandals. I am a survivor and I picked myself up and decided that this was not going to be the place that I die cold and hungry. I started walking to the police station that was near there and met another homeless person who gave me a sandwich to eat. He directed me to Grand Central Station. This was the middle of October and my social security disability funds had come in again. However, I didn't know how much or little there was in my funds. I boarded a train with what I had left in funds I thought I had and headed to Dallas, Texas.
**A note to take is if the family is able to track their loved one on a walkabout try to trace their expenditures to find out what they are doing. The thought does come to mind that you can stop the funds from being spent, however, the dilemma is that they will be left penniless and out on the streets. Maybe another way would be to limit their funds instead of giving them free access.
You can only imagine the looks and stares that people had as I boarded the train. This was the first train ride that I had and I was making all sorts of friends on the train, I thought. I was in a talkative mood by then and just about talked to every tom, dick or harry. At one point, the person sitting next to me gave me a bar of soap and told me to go into the bathroom to clean up a bit. I did and that seemed to elevate the problem a bit. So I was on my way to Dallas. The train went from DC to Chicago and I was getting worse by the second.
When I boarded the connecting train from Chicago to Dallas, Texas Eagle, I was in bad shape. I was in very bad shape. I started walking up and down the train and greeting everyone there. I called myself the train's greeter and made sure that everyone knew about the train's destination and mode of getting there. At St. Louis, the train stopped and had a problem. We were asked to disembark and I never returned to the train. Again, I started my walking with briefcase in tow. I walked all over St. Louis for a week. This time the delusional portion had given way to me talking to myself. So the next time that you see someone talking to themselves DO not think they are crazy, they may be just out of meds!!!
I will stop here because it is a good place for discussion of the homeless. When we see the homeless we think of them of being worthless people not even worth the ground that they are walking upon. However, do we really know the walk that they are taking? Do we know the situation that has brought them to this point? Do we know if it is a medical condition that has brought them to this condition? I ask you next time that you see a homeless person, don't run, just ask yourself what if I was in that condition, what would I want a passerby to say to me. Now, I am not talking about the homeless who are begging for money, I am speaking to the ones that are on the park bench without the bottle in the wrapper. The ones that are talking to themselves without anyone there. These people need help and we can and should help them. Even if it means that we just sit down and get to know there problems. You may be surprised to find out all about them and yourself.
Thank you for reading and I hope that I have given you food for thought. Plight of the Homeless II will be posted next on the Fort Worth/Dallas episode.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Forrest Gump II (Part I Off and Running)
As you are well aware at this point in time, there has been a walkabout I which I called Forrest Gump I. Well unfortunately for me there was a second walkabout which we will call Forrest Gump II. In this post and the future parts of the parts of this post, I will attempt to describe the turmoil and pain that I went through during each of these life long lessons.
The first question that is always asked why did you walk from the home from Florida to Texas. This is a hard question to answer, for you see I don't have a clear cut answer to that question. Instead, I have a vague understanding of the conditions surrounding the beginning of the walk. As you may recall, loss for me is very difficult. I am not speaking of loss from a job or everyday up and down, instead I am speaking of the loss of family.
During that time, I had lost my partner who was estranged from me. He and I decided to break-up after 4 years of turmoil. Even though he was a special ed teacher and well educated he did not understand mental health issues. As matter of fact, who truly does as a love one understand the makeup of mental illness. They are innocent bystanders trying to grasp from the outside in what is happening to their loved one. In this case, my partner did not grasp and was very fearful of his own health even though there was no rational reason to be so. Our relationship ended in much turmoil as does many heterosexual divorces. In reality there is no difference between straight and gay relationships they are basically the same.
I diverge here but let me explain that after the breakup and three mediations for the stuff that we accumulated my mental health started to deteriorate. I had no support by my family who had ostracized me for the relationship and whatever conversation that I did have with my brother was curt and given the advise of keep a stiff upper lip. Without the moral and emotional support from family and friends I quickly started to deteriorate. In addition, my financial picture was drained and I started not taking my medication. I may add that as this began, my rational thinking went down the tubes. I bought a car that I couldn't afford and that along with the burdening legal fees drowned and drained me financially along with emotionally.
I started telling myself that I was ok and that these pills that I was taking in the past were not needed at all. I started connecting with the previous walk in 1996 as to that I was correct in my assumption that I was not ill and the whole world was wrong. This is a common thread with all people who have mental health issues. They don't believe, I was one myself, that we need the medication. I have often wondered if people who don't take medication regularly understand the complications with taking the medicine. I touched upon this issue when I posted, "Chemical Soup." The side effects for taking the medication, in the eyes of the participant, outweigh the benefit of the medication.
I digress here, let me refocus and tell you that during this time I started to become delusional and all the memories of the past walk and others became very vivid. I believed that space ships were in the courtyard and all sorts of things related to sci-fi. I was an avid sci-fi person so many of the threads of my thoughts came from this point of view.
I do have a theory on how the brain operates, that if we could envision a strand that has many adjoining parts to it. In normal circumstances, the strands do not jumble together but there is a smooth connection. When there is a chemical imbalance the synapses start firing at different levels and those strands are missed reconnecting in the inappropriate order. Under normal circumstances the order would be a to b to c to d but under imbalance they may be a to z to f to g and so forth. That is my theory on trying to explain how some of the threads were accurate but the conclusions were all messed up.
This was the beginning of my Forrest Gump II the delusional part and lack of support of friends and family. I was all alone not taking my medication and getting worse every day. I would start walking in Florida soon though. A walk that would lead me to Texas. In Florida, daily I would walk from the apartment to some other part of the city and walk back. Was this walking a preparation of my long journey to Texas. I do not know. All that I knew was that I would walk from one part of Bradenton, Fl to the other in the heat of 90F without water or food. My pantry was empty and I had no money with me. My social security disability would not come in until the 3rd of September 2008.
In reflection, I was preparing to take the walk of my life. I started packing my clothes in a small carry on bag and the most important documents that I thought I would need. I began telling myself that I was going to go to San Antonio to interview for a position at U of T. Why Texas I don't have the foggiest idea but the road to Texas would bring me to San Antonio to DC to Chicago to St. Louis and to Dallas/Fort Worth.
My message to clinicians/caregivers and the like is quite simple start observing the behavior of your loved one and determine if there are changes. Are they eating right, what are they saying about themselves? Do they seem agitated over something? Instead of confronting them try to talk to them and determine the facts without intruding too much in their life. Then let the physician know so the appropriate observations can be made by the medical personnel. They have better techniques in determining what is happening. Above all things, do not put shame and guilt on the table of the loved one. They already know what it feels like to come back and rebuild their lives without the added burden of your guilt upon them.
Thank you for reading.
The first question that is always asked why did you walk from the home from Florida to Texas. This is a hard question to answer, for you see I don't have a clear cut answer to that question. Instead, I have a vague understanding of the conditions surrounding the beginning of the walk. As you may recall, loss for me is very difficult. I am not speaking of loss from a job or everyday up and down, instead I am speaking of the loss of family.
During that time, I had lost my partner who was estranged from me. He and I decided to break-up after 4 years of turmoil. Even though he was a special ed teacher and well educated he did not understand mental health issues. As matter of fact, who truly does as a love one understand the makeup of mental illness. They are innocent bystanders trying to grasp from the outside in what is happening to their loved one. In this case, my partner did not grasp and was very fearful of his own health even though there was no rational reason to be so. Our relationship ended in much turmoil as does many heterosexual divorces. In reality there is no difference between straight and gay relationships they are basically the same.
I diverge here but let me explain that after the breakup and three mediations for the stuff that we accumulated my mental health started to deteriorate. I had no support by my family who had ostracized me for the relationship and whatever conversation that I did have with my brother was curt and given the advise of keep a stiff upper lip. Without the moral and emotional support from family and friends I quickly started to deteriorate. In addition, my financial picture was drained and I started not taking my medication. I may add that as this began, my rational thinking went down the tubes. I bought a car that I couldn't afford and that along with the burdening legal fees drowned and drained me financially along with emotionally.
I started telling myself that I was ok and that these pills that I was taking in the past were not needed at all. I started connecting with the previous walk in 1996 as to that I was correct in my assumption that I was not ill and the whole world was wrong. This is a common thread with all people who have mental health issues. They don't believe, I was one myself, that we need the medication. I have often wondered if people who don't take medication regularly understand the complications with taking the medicine. I touched upon this issue when I posted, "Chemical Soup." The side effects for taking the medication, in the eyes of the participant, outweigh the benefit of the medication.
I digress here, let me refocus and tell you that during this time I started to become delusional and all the memories of the past walk and others became very vivid. I believed that space ships were in the courtyard and all sorts of things related to sci-fi. I was an avid sci-fi person so many of the threads of my thoughts came from this point of view.
I do have a theory on how the brain operates, that if we could envision a strand that has many adjoining parts to it. In normal circumstances, the strands do not jumble together but there is a smooth connection. When there is a chemical imbalance the synapses start firing at different levels and those strands are missed reconnecting in the inappropriate order. Under normal circumstances the order would be a to b to c to d but under imbalance they may be a to z to f to g and so forth. That is my theory on trying to explain how some of the threads were accurate but the conclusions were all messed up.
This was the beginning of my Forrest Gump II the delusional part and lack of support of friends and family. I was all alone not taking my medication and getting worse every day. I would start walking in Florida soon though. A walk that would lead me to Texas. In Florida, daily I would walk from the apartment to some other part of the city and walk back. Was this walking a preparation of my long journey to Texas. I do not know. All that I knew was that I would walk from one part of Bradenton, Fl to the other in the heat of 90F without water or food. My pantry was empty and I had no money with me. My social security disability would not come in until the 3rd of September 2008.
In reflection, I was preparing to take the walk of my life. I started packing my clothes in a small carry on bag and the most important documents that I thought I would need. I began telling myself that I was going to go to San Antonio to interview for a position at U of T. Why Texas I don't have the foggiest idea but the road to Texas would bring me to San Antonio to DC to Chicago to St. Louis and to Dallas/Fort Worth.
My message to clinicians/caregivers and the like is quite simple start observing the behavior of your loved one and determine if there are changes. Are they eating right, what are they saying about themselves? Do they seem agitated over something? Instead of confronting them try to talk to them and determine the facts without intruding too much in their life. Then let the physician know so the appropriate observations can be made by the medical personnel. They have better techniques in determining what is happening. Above all things, do not put shame and guilt on the table of the loved one. They already know what it feels like to come back and rebuild their lives without the added burden of your guilt upon them.
Thank you for reading.
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