Hi, there. Thanks for visiting. I'm starting this blog as an advocate for mental and physical health. I'm a freelance writer and also own a home based medical transcription business. I was diagnosed in 1978 with paranoid schizophrenia and started to become acutely ill three years prior to that, unmedicated, frightened, confused, and in trouble with the law. I graduated from university with distinction the year I became ill. I've never regretted learning how to think at university. I struggled with my illness for 35 years and have reached the top of the mountain now, I think, or the other side, where the grass is greener and the path easier. There's hope for all of us, the whole human race, and never think there isn't hope or joy no matter your circumstances. I'd love to hear your thoughts and experiences with mental illness in all its forms: depression, brain injury, autism, schizophrenia, bipolar, anxiety disorders, etc. and your positive experiences as well as those lies and half truths society and even therapists would have us believe about ourselves.

We are different folks, and we are beautiful. The whole human race is beautiful. Let's celebrate life.

Monday, February 28, 2011

No Woman is an Island

I very much want to make some changes in my life and carve out a new destiny for myself now that the sentencing is over and I can move on knowing what I have to deal with. I'll never do it again, and in order to be able to determine that I must have help. I'll be seeing a new psych at FACS and am delighted. I'm going to lay on her a lot of the load to sort out, which I haven't been able to do so far. Come a long way, baby, but not far enough. It occurred to me only yesterday that I don't have to do it all myself. Nor am I alone.

I struggled for most of my life without a lot of support thinking I was the Lone Ranger or something. It was hard and I must say impossible to make total progress without blood, sweat and tears over a very long period of time.

I don't have to do it all myself.

I'm not alone.

I'm not talking about only the psych, either, but all with whom I come into contact with. Including the instruction I'm embarking on in the Catholic church. I've been searching for a spiritual community for so many years and didn't find it. Now I think I've found it. It'll take a year or more before I'm ready for any kind of decision but I've found a church that allows me to question and think for myself, and I'm delighted with that, too.

Everything is falling into place finally and I think I just wasn't ready before.

When the student's ready the teacher will appear.

How different the last 35 years would have been had I known then what I know now! And been able to apply it.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Welcome, Beautiful Littlewolf; a question

We're welcoming another follower, folks, and I'm delighted. There's no need to get involved, R., just hang around until you get your feet wet and then dive in with a comment if you like. I feel really stupid because I told my new friend there was something wrong with her blog. Just me trying something new. Note to self: don't try something new and tell anybody about it! I'll just embarrass myself.

I ordered a turquoise and pearl choker today, a lovely set for $12 from Sue's Etsy account. She sure makes beautiful jewelry and at a very reasonable price, too, for anyone who's interested. Just click on "The Bramble Patch" and she'll tell you all about it. Sue is a rocket surgeon by day (or something very similar...???) and a part-time artiste by night. If anyone wants a link to her Etsy jewelry I'll provide it. She's much too modest. Look for the link on "My Favorite Sites" to the right of this post.

That brings up the question of adorning oneself. It seems to be endemic in humanity including both men and women to adorn ourselves, rather with tattoos, extravagant hairstyles, colored tees, nose rings, jewelry of all sorts...look at any nation or tribe in the world and you'll see a wealth of adornment and color. Even mutilation like piercing, ear lobe elongation, or binding feet was meant for beauty. What is it in the human race that creates this need for adornment and beauty? Also music - percussion in particular, chanting and singing with the human voice - seems to be a common thread running through our different cultures. I've read somewhere that ball and stick games have existed throughout history in all different cultures and centuries. The string game we used to call "cat's cradle" on one's hands is also played in all cultures, no matter how isolated. Are we hard wired for beauty and recreation?

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

House of Happy

"Somewhere over the rainbow bluebirds fly"

Everything's fine here in the House of Happy. I'm going to be doing community service work in the area I chose and am co-authoring a book with someone who also has schizophrenia. I've written 62 pages so far. It's going to be a fairly small book but full of good stuff - I hope.

This is the year of relationships and forging a new career. I'm slowly making new friends - good people, and letting go of what and who isn't so good. Paying more attention to old friends and family, and enjoying their journey, too.

Writing more articles, several on SZ, and the book is about those challenges, too. I know many people who have secrets. Can't say I have now but I can be discrete. I've learned to tap dance on the stage of life.

This iris is for Heart's Day for all my good friends and followers. And especially those of you who struggle as I have with SZ or any other mental disability. Not a handicap. A disability.

The iris is the emblem of the Schizophrenia Society of Canada.

Saturday, February 05, 2011

The Forest of Crazy

I love Sue's comment about "The Forest of Crazy". I learn a lot from my friends and family. And I'm going to learn more from a new psych the court has appointed for me. I'm thrilled that I'll be getting the help I need. Any charity or organization or business that doesn't want me perhaps doesn't understand. I had no criminal record until now, and it's nonviolent and because of delusions and obsessions as a result of chronic SZ over the past 36 years.

Someone believed in me enough at one time 36 years ago in 1975 to call her friend and get counseling for me, which went on for three years until I became so enmeshed and lost in the Forest of Crazy that I scared the pants off her and probably my psychologist, too. No coincidence perhaps that happened after three years of counseling. I probably terrified my friends two years ago that I couldn't do it this time, I couldn't get well, I couldn't see reason. Well, haha, SZ and all the demons in hell, we won! The court and the complainant and I, we all won, and that is not necessary to win, but it means health for me and satisfaction for the legal system. I'm on three years probation. What does that mean? I have a few restrictions that are good for me and good for the legal system. We have a wonderful government.

I believe in the humanity of man and woman. And I'm glad the case is over. Now I can breath and get on with my life. And I will. Anyone care to join me in this new game and adventure called life? Yes, there is life after almost death. This disease almost killed me. And I'm so grateful it's over. The end of something is the beginning of something else. Hello, friends and hello, world. Three close friends and my son were in the courtroom with me. I won't let anybody down again. Ever.