the purpose of this blog

The purpose of this blog is not only to educate and inspire, but to give people who want to employ or use my services as a motivational/inspirational speaker the range of topics I can approach.

Writing and speaking are such a joy for me, it doesn't bother me that I do it mostly for free now. But I would like to make this a self-sustaining proposition for three reasons:

1. I could stop and start as needed.
2. I think the voice of an "average" person with a mental health resilience story is much needed in the marketplace. We only tend to hear about the extreme ends of the spectrum: violence and extreme achievement.
3. I need to be my own boss. I hate people looking over my shoulder and me trying to second guess to keep up with and try to stay ahead of "the game." This is a very treacherous environment for my illness. Unfortunately, I 'm describing most of the work places in America.

Publishing two memoirs that I have written is also on the agenda. One I wrote while I was still very ill, angst ridden and very much in psychosis. The other was written after we found the right meds (actually new on the market) and I was recovering my "sanity", i.e. no voices in my head but mine.

The topics I talk about are probably scary to those who have never experienced or had a loved one experience schizophrenic symptoms. It is something even people with other mental illnesses do not understand. This is one of the reasons why I have decided to disclose about my illness, to bridge the gap and bring these issues to light. Because for some of us, it is the daily grind.

One of my volunteer positions lets me speak to the community to educate and inspire. But, the first time I disclosed was for a documentary I took part in. When I viewed the finsihed product I thought, what have I done? People I don't even know will know my story. I got over it because I was more interested in helping people and fighting stigma than I was vain.

There is another reason why I disclose. My most guarded well kept secret used to be that I had a mental illness. I lived in fear for decades that someone would find out. It made me feel like a prisoner in my own life. Mental health issues are a part of living like physical medical issues are. An illness is an illness. Diabetes, Cancer, Schizophrenia, Parkinson's...what's the difference? They all are diseases that have to be treated by a physician.

Anyway, now that i disclose, a tremendous weight and stress have been lifted from me. This is my gift for disclosing.

whew...thank You Lord

So, I finished my stay at the partial hospital and am feeling very well. I just don't know what I "aspire" to do for a living. I don't know right now  if I'm cut out to be a peer counselor, but I don't want to make a rash decision. But, that's what doctors and therapists are for; they can help you make informed decisions regarding your health. Mine know me well, we have been working together for about 6 years.

I am much calmer now. I am going to release this to the Universe. Let go and let God. I have come to the decision that I am going to pay attention to my warning signs and limitations. This is not giving up but recognizing that my illness is chronic and when I feel really stressed or overwhelmed it can flare up or even if I'm not feeling stressed. It's the nature of the beast.

I will now check myself when I am overwhelmed instead of telling myself to suck it up, this is life. I would not ask a person with a physical ailment, like a missing limb to do something that their challenge doesn't permit them to do. Also, I would tell a peer that I am counseling that they must look after their mental health first. Because if they have a breakdown, they will not be able to do anything for a while. So, why am I so hard on myself?

It's a curse and a blessing to be a goal-oriented person with this kind of illness. It is a blessing because it keeps you going, even through the dark days. But, the world is not accommodating at all. This is why I feel so compelled to be a peer. I want to help and lend support first of all, but also have my limitations understood without ramifications.

This definitely did not happen at the first job I took. A low constant underlying weight of stress attacked my head. I didn't realize or wouldn't realize that I was paranoid, bordering on delusion. Thankfully, I left for other reasons before I had a total break. This was shortly before I went to the partial hospital in the summer.

I think what contributed to my break this January was the fact that I was operating in a business as usual mode. I didn't learn anything from my previous stay. I didn't acknowledge the stress that put me in the previous position.

Anyway, I'm out. I'm glad. I'm blessed to be alive today and very thankful that I have excellent family and medical supports. And no matter what I decide to do now, I know I'm going to make it. Even if I have to keep changing my goals. I'm going to be here anyway, right.

second stay in 5 months

I don't know why. But I thought I was entitled to have the rest of my life free from psychotic breaks. I mean, I did spend half of my life, all of my adult life that way with the exception of six years in that state. Those six years placed me in a false level of security in my day-to-day living. I foolishly thought that I was exempt from psychosis. Silly me. You know what happened.

 So, I'm in another Acute Partial Program. For those of you who don't know, this is like being in the psychiatric hospital, but you go home every night. In my case, I was there from 9:30am-3:30pm. I now stay half days, which means I am thankfully almost out the door. I have been here since the end of January.

These places always creep me out, so I'm always pushing to get out. This time, I let them tell me what should be done. I don't plan on going back. I want to make sure all my stitches are in before I leave (you can laugh.). I can heal later, it's not like I won't be in touch with a psychiatrist.The worst is over. This time.

These places creep me out because they always bring to mind the history of my life. I am 51. I have lived with schizo-affective (schizophrenia and bi-polar) most of my life and it will always be that way. I can handle it when I'm well and able to accomplish my goals, but when I'm sick, I cry like I'm over my mother's grave asking why. What is the purpose? Why trash my life? Have I not payed enough? People talk about paying your dues. I should be in a mansion at the top of any field of my choosing.

And, every time I get this "interruption," I down-size my goals and dreams. I try to be more realistic. I try to be more in tune with my fate. This time I would have to down-size to a fast-food restaurant. I refuse. I didn't kick my ass through the rest of my college career to end up flipping burgers with some asshole lauding over me telling me what to do.

I know a B.A. doesn't mean much today. But I was in and out of the inpatient psychiatric hospital the entire time I was trying to finish my degree. It is like a PhD to me.

Anyway, this stay I learned some things about myself. I am so afraid of going back to those 25 years before the right medication that I make my symptoms much worse when they come. It adds a panic attack. Like a PTSD reaction. It's only because I am scared. I am scared I won't ever come back and live in oblivion and nightmarish hell the rest of my life.

The other thing that was brought to my attention is that I've never really had a chance to be an adult. I mean socially and emotionally speaking, I am in my 20s, almost where I was when I had my break. I've only been living on my own for 8 consecutive years. Yes, sad isn't it? My poor parents have been more than supportive and are surprisingly proud of me and my resilient spirit.

But, I refuse to live without Hope. I'm going to step out on Faith every time. I would rather die trying to do something than give up because I can't accomplish anything. I mean, I'm gonna be here. I've got to do something. Have some goal to work with.

I came to this revelation about myself, after I got well in the hospital. They put all the "severe and chronic cases" in one class, of which I am one. After, I got well, all I saw was a room full of hopeless people. It scared the shit out of me. I mean, I am in their same boat. I think this is why I flipped at the job. Most of my clients were like this and had my same diagnosis. Needless to say, I am reluctant to return to my field of choice "of the moment." I am going to talk this out with my therapist, though. I don't want to make a rash decision.

On a good note, to date this year I have published or have upcoming publishings of 7 poems. Look for me in Blackberry: a magazine, Black Magnolias and Linden Avenue Literary Journal. I had my first short story published in November in Vintage Script, a U.K. literary journal. Don't be impressed, to date, I haven't recieved pay. But, I am building an impressive portfolio. Writing is a hard business. No matter what happens, I will always have "a day job."