If this is truly going to be a blog about living with mental illness and being a writer, I have to find some way to connect the two. I've really been conflicted over the past week, wondering if I want to continue the blog at all. Sometimes it goes days without a hit, except some random pervert looking up '50 Shades of Grey'--I wrote a post about that MONTHS ago--and that's discouraging.
And, I hate to whine, although it could be argued that what I write is not whining. Maybe I'm not sure. Anyway, if anyone out there in cyberspace could comment on what I'm writing, that would be helpful. It would make me feel like I'm not screaming into the wind all the time.
Anyway, seems I'm back in limbo again. I have a bunch of submissions I recently sent out, so I'm waiting to hear back. I'm in love, with a few things; which is normal for me, and as always, I'm trying to find a place in this world, and a feeling of belonging and just general peace.
Last week, I spent the night in the psyche ER, and it was in one way a wake up call, and in another, a slap in the face. It's been nine years since I was hospitalized. I never intend to be on a locked ward again, but I was feeling so desperately sad and hopeless that I forgot to watch my words, and said something, apparently, that made the woman on the other end of the Helpline think she needed to call the cops to haul me to the ER, where I sat for five hours, talking to NO ONE but a nurse practitioner. I was forced to change into scrubs and then couldn't even reason with the people who wanted to keep me there overnight.
I barely slept but thought of some great story ideas, and kind of different perspective of my life, which, I have to be frank, is challenging right now. Starting 10/7- I"m going back for two more weeks of rehab. It's kind of a refresher course. The setbacks have left me sort of shaky. It's not a bad thing, that's what I keep telling myself. Wish me luck, send goo
Most of my friends have heard me say in the past weeks that I want to die. It's not true. I want things to be better, so I can live better, be a better person, and a better friend.
I have so much I want to say, and I'm blessed enough to have the stories in my head to tell, and the characters to tell them with.
I'm scared and excited, and worried all at once, and it gives me comfort to know that more than one famous writer did a stint or two(or six) in some sort of lockup. I suppose I'm in good company.
And with that said, I'm going to get back to writing---
To quote a dear friend, "To Balance, Strength, Love, Faith, and Hope". I've been trying to think of those things.
We'll see how it goes. To everyone who's supported me lately--esp Lisa , Amanda, Brenda, Amy and Jules, thank you all, so much.
And to J-I still don't think I'm brave, and you thinking that blows my tiny little mind. Thanks again.
As always, watch this space.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Inmates, in and of the Asylum, and Accepting All of It.
Okay, so I'm a great big liar. I said I was going to not blog anymore, but I changed my mind. I have a lot to say, both about writing, and living with mental illness. If what I write makes people uncomfortable, well, that's a good reason to not read it, isn't it? If you're interested in all, as I am to support people who do live with depression, anxiety, bi-polar, what have you, then read on. You are warmly welcomed and accepted here. Of course that said, I'm not a doctor, nor do I play one on television. Any opinions are my own--if you don't think they would work for you well then, simply don't do them. More importantly, if you have your own ideas, I'm more than open to hearing them here---fill up my little comment box, and I will be exceedingly grateful.
As most of you know, I recently got out of rehab and have been looking to get into another therapy program that offers group therapy on a daily basis. Well, I found one, I thought, which, at first look, seemed like it would fill the bill, but after visiting there and talking to some of the teachers, I'm having serious second thoughts.
As the old saying goes, the inmates seem to be running the asylum, calling the shots, acting how they want. When I questioned the instructors/therapists about this, they answered--well, everyone has to improve at their own pace, we don't force anyone to do anything they don't want That makes me think many of these people come to this program because they are required to. I'm sure some of them are prepared, like me, to do the hard work that's required, but I'm afraid some of them just go to get out of the house.
Then again, that may be my own insecurity talking. To be honest, I'm pretty sick and tired, again, of being sick and tired, of having to go to 'programs', of still needing medication and therapy It's a struggle I wouldn't wish on anyone--well, maybe a few people, but I'm not even sure about that.
I've just been hating myself lately, and no one has been able to tell me how to get away from that. Any suggestions, again, are more than welcome. I need to accept where I am right now, and how I feel. I suppose things can change, lately though, I"m not sure, and after dealing with another m
Here are some things I still think I know are true about myself
-I'm a good friend
-If I love you, you basically have me for life, and eventually, I believe you'll love me too, even a little.
-I still believe I can write, even though I lost yet another contest, I will still enter more, even though I'm not sure why.
And that's about all I know right now.
Later, because I'm crying again.
As most of you know, I recently got out of rehab and have been looking to get into another therapy program that offers group therapy on a daily basis. Well, I found one, I thought, which, at first look, seemed like it would fill the bill, but after visiting there and talking to some of the teachers, I'm having serious second thoughts.
As the old saying goes, the inmates seem to be running the asylum, calling the shots, acting how they want. When I questioned the instructors/therapists about this, they answered--well, everyone has to improve at their own pace, we don't force anyone to do anything they don't want That makes me think many of these people come to this program because they are required to. I'm sure some of them are prepared, like me, to do the hard work that's required, but I'm afraid some of them just go to get out of the house.
Then again, that may be my own insecurity talking. To be honest, I'm pretty sick and tired, again, of being sick and tired, of having to go to 'programs', of still needing medication and therapy It's a struggle I wouldn't wish on anyone--well, maybe a few people, but I'm not even sure about that.
I've just been hating myself lately, and no one has been able to tell me how to get away from that. Any suggestions, again, are more than welcome. I need to accept where I am right now, and how I feel. I suppose things can change, lately though, I"m not sure, and after dealing with another m
Here are some things I still think I know are true about myself
-I'm a good friend
-If I love you, you basically have me for life, and eventually, I believe you'll love me too, even a little.
-I still believe I can write, even though I lost yet another contest, I will still enter more, even though I'm not sure why.
And that's about all I know right now.
Later, because I'm crying again.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Affairs, Familial and Otherwise
My mom visited recently, and it taught me a few important lessons about, well people in general, and my family specifically. Seeing as one of the things I said during the visit was (and yes, this is verbatim) "F**k, F**k, F**k, it's just a word, that's all!!!!!!!!!!", I suppose you can all guess how it went. At this point I'm pretty sure the relationship between Mom and I is over, in the sense that it will never be anything good. I've tried so hard, and she's not tried at all. She says she does, but it lasts for such a short amount of time it doesn't matter.
My brother and I do not speak He has a block on his phone for my number and he and his wife despise me because, in their words, they 'don't deal with emotional people'--apparently they enjoy the company of robots or something.
. I just don't know, and honestly, I don't want to think about it, blog about it, or talk about it anymore.
Next topic please, and quickly.'
Affairs of the mind- I had said to myself, when I started this blog two years ago, I was going to make it about two things, writing, and living with mental illness. In the past few months, I've strayed off those topics, I know, and I need to get back on track. I know some of what I write may be uncomfortable for people to read, they may wonder why I talk about it, but it's what I choose to do. Change can only be affected when people speak up. All the great social reforms were championed by people who weren't afraid to speak up.
Did they get grief for it? You bet. Some died for their causes. All of that doesn't really scare me in the slightest. I believe in educating people about mental illnesses, especially things like anxiety and depression, which the majority of the world seems to believe can be 'snapped out of" or looked on as personal flaws that people can help themselves out of. It's not true.
Living with it is a struggle, but it doesn't mean that people who do live with it are miserable constantly Even though I'm going through a really bad time right now, I can still manage to get up and do what I need to do. I still have things that make me laugh, I still can go out to a movie, or our to dinner by myself like I did last week, but I know that even though I may have fun, I'm not enjoying those things as much as I could be, and that's what makes things difficult, I would give anything in the world to get back to the person I used to be, the one who didn't have panic attacks, who could sleep through the night, who had her moments of absolute bliss-although I did come close last Thursday night. I want to get back to that person more personally, someone who's able to do the Snoopy Dance again, head back, feet moving, beaming, arms out, embracing life again.
As this is Suicide Awareness and Prevention day, I just wanted everyone to know that anyone who's ever struggled with suicidal feelings and spoken about them is not weak, or looking for attention, They are looking to end the pain that has been their almost constant companion for how ever long it is. I pray that none of you ever experience such pain. Please, if you have a friend or loved one who mentions taking their own life, take them seriously. Do the best you can to get them to seek help. Go with them to an appointment if that's the only way they'll go. Love them and hug them, and tell them you need them, even if you think they won't believe it. They need it.
Finally, affairs of the heart. When I love someone, I love them completely, and most likely, a friend will have me for life, if they're willing to bear with me through the hard times. I have a few that I am thankful for-so to Lisa, and Amanda, and the two Julies, and Jess and Amy, and Brenda, all far away but ever close in my heart, THANK YOU. I would surely have lost it this year without you guys.
And to Mr Brown, and to J-and dear Stanley--you'll never understand, but I love you. Be well.
To be contnued, I suppose, and I hope
My brother and I do not speak He has a block on his phone for my number and he and his wife despise me because, in their words, they 'don't deal with emotional people'--apparently they enjoy the company of robots or something.
. I just don't know, and honestly, I don't want to think about it, blog about it, or talk about it anymore.
Next topic please, and quickly.'
Affairs of the mind- I had said to myself, when I started this blog two years ago, I was going to make it about two things, writing, and living with mental illness. In the past few months, I've strayed off those topics, I know, and I need to get back on track. I know some of what I write may be uncomfortable for people to read, they may wonder why I talk about it, but it's what I choose to do. Change can only be affected when people speak up. All the great social reforms were championed by people who weren't afraid to speak up.
Did they get grief for it? You bet. Some died for their causes. All of that doesn't really scare me in the slightest. I believe in educating people about mental illnesses, especially things like anxiety and depression, which the majority of the world seems to believe can be 'snapped out of" or looked on as personal flaws that people can help themselves out of. It's not true.
Living with it is a struggle, but it doesn't mean that people who do live with it are miserable constantly Even though I'm going through a really bad time right now, I can still manage to get up and do what I need to do. I still have things that make me laugh, I still can go out to a movie, or our to dinner by myself like I did last week, but I know that even though I may have fun, I'm not enjoying those things as much as I could be, and that's what makes things difficult, I would give anything in the world to get back to the person I used to be, the one who didn't have panic attacks, who could sleep through the night, who had her moments of absolute bliss-although I did come close last Thursday night. I want to get back to that person more personally, someone who's able to do the Snoopy Dance again, head back, feet moving, beaming, arms out, embracing life again.
As this is Suicide Awareness and Prevention day, I just wanted everyone to know that anyone who's ever struggled with suicidal feelings and spoken about them is not weak, or looking for attention, They are looking to end the pain that has been their almost constant companion for how ever long it is. I pray that none of you ever experience such pain. Please, if you have a friend or loved one who mentions taking their own life, take them seriously. Do the best you can to get them to seek help. Go with them to an appointment if that's the only way they'll go. Love them and hug them, and tell them you need them, even if you think they won't believe it. They need it.
Finally, affairs of the heart. When I love someone, I love them completely, and most likely, a friend will have me for life, if they're willing to bear with me through the hard times. I have a few that I am thankful for-so to Lisa, and Amanda, and the two Julies, and Jess and Amy, and Brenda, all far away but ever close in my heart, THANK YOU. I would surely have lost it this year without you guys.
And to Mr Brown, and to J-and dear Stanley--you'll never understand, but I love you. Be well.
To be contnued, I suppose, and I hope
Friday, September 7, 2012
My Excellent Culinary Adventure At Graffiti
Before I proceed, I should inform my readers that I am not, by any means, now, nor have I ever been, a food reviewer, or a restaurant critic. I don't have the skills or the impartiality to effectively rate an establishment. I'm a writer of poetry and fiction, so this will not be a 'normal' restaurant review, by any means.
I like to cook, and I like to eat, and bottom line, I know what I like. So, with all that said, I want to tell you about my experience at Jehangir Mehta's restaurant Graffiti.
If you have no idea what I'm talking about, here's a little background. Back in 2009, I was watching the second season of 'The Next Iron Chef' and I noticed that one of the competitors was a little different than the others. He had his own idea about how he wanted to compete, he broke rules, and what was even more interesting was he didn't seem to be particularly rattled by either the judges, or the program's host, Alton Brown (and I know first hand, how intimidating Mr. Brown can be). Seeing all these things put together both impressed and intrigued me, and even after the show had ended, and Jose Garces had defeated Chef Mehta in the final(btw, he was ROBBED) I wanted to know more about him and when I read about Graffiti, I knew I had to go there.
Shortly after that, life got in the way of those plans, as it often does. Two weeks ago I made my reservation, and finally that day arrived.
Before I bore you my impressions, please watch this video. I believe Chef Mehta can describe his place FAR better than I ever could. :)
The first thing that struck me, when I walked in the door was "Yes, is is that small." Still it was small in a good way. I was greeted warmly by the hostess and immediately ushered to one of the front tables, where two other women were seated. All the tables here, are communal, whether you are dining solo or with a group. This was a welcome surprise to me, a woman who regularly dines alone and is therefore regulated to the back table in the farthest corner of the restaurant. Here, I felt welcomed warmly, and instantly at home in this cozy space.
Anyone who reads this blog and knows my situation understands I don't go out to eat as often as I'd like to. My one concern about going to Graffiti, as it is a well known place in NYC, was 'what's it going to cost me?" When I looked up the menu online, however, I was pleasantly surprised and I'm sure all my readers will be too, check it out!
I had the watermelon salad with mint sorbet and feta cheese, the pickled ginger scallops with the candied red chili, and for dessert, the warm truffle almond strawberries, with the pepper ice cream.
Everything was wonderful, and artfully presented-it was almost too beautiful to eat. I have to say the scallops were the best I've had anywhere, and the dessert, well, now I understand why everyone raves about truffles, and that's a problem because now, I'll want them all the time ;P.
All in all this was a fantastic dining experience. One thing I definitely want to mention was the quality of the service. Both the hostess and servers were attentive and willing to explain anything you didn't understand. They didn't hover though, like some do, and that was a plus.
All in all this was a fantastic dining experience. One thing I definitely want to mention was the quality of the service. Both the hostess and servers were attentive and willing to explain anything you didn't understand. They didn't hover though, like some do, and that was a plus.
I also was lucky enough to meet Chef Mehta, who was extremely warm, and incredibly gracious. He is a truly lovely man. I plan on returning very soon.
So, in closing, I just want to say, if you want a pleasant, non rushed, dining experience in a place with great ambiance and fantastic food, get to Graffiti as soon as you can. You won't regret it. I mean seriously. Go.
NOW.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
They Tried to Make Me Go to Rehab, I Said...
Being a Young Adult of the '80s, a movie I remember with quite a bit of melancholy is that cinematic classic 'St. Elmo's Fire'. One of my favorite scenes is when Andrew McCarthy--and where the f is he, now- tells one of his friends, "It's not easy bein' me'.
Regular readers of this blog know that I've been going through a very hard time lately, and that I finally gave up, gave in, and decided to go to Rehab, in my case, Psyche Rehab, called Partial Hospital. It was a two week program of intensive group therapy for six hours every day. I didn't have much faith in it, after all, what could be accomplished in two weeks, that would un-do all the crap and angst I'd been through in the past six months.
I was wrong.
Still for the first few days I was there, I sat in group with my arms crossed, occasionally making a snarky comment (or six) I alternately(in my head) made fun of the the other patients, thinking that they were way more messed up than I was, I told myself I didn't belong there, that this wouldn't help me at all. I spent most of the morning of the third day I was,there, crying in the hallway, and promising myself I"d never come back,
Again, I was wrong.
After lunch, I came back, and I don't know what happened, or how it happened, something had changed. Many of the things the instructors were talking about sounded less like BS, and more about things that I could apply to myself. More frightening was the fact that I knew many of the non-productive behaviors they talked about changing were things I had done, some of them that had actually caused me to lose friends, and remain as desperately unhappy as I was, which was what had brought me to rehab in the first place.
I started to learn better ways of dealing with my situations and emotions. It wasn't easy, and it certainly wasn't enjoyable most of the time. But I had the support of my staff and my peers, and the bottom line is was and is, that now it's over, I came out a different person I was when I went in. The jury's still out on whether that's better person, but different, definitely,
The day I left they told me I had done everything the right way this time and they were proud of me. It felt good.
Now, back out here, in the real world, I have a whole toolbox of skills to use to help me when things get hard. To be honest, I'm still learning to use them. But at least I know what they are now.
What happens next?
Watch this space.
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