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.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Hello, is anybody home in my skull?

It may seem I'm counting on love and roses and a preordained future without failure or disappointments. Non, mon friends, I'm mature and seasoned in life now that I've been dealt a few slings and arrows - I know better than to count the eggs in my Easter basket, beautiful and colorful though they may. To do otherwise would simply mean to slide back into my Fantasy world.


I want the real grass under my feet. I want the excitement of real conversation. And I will have it.

It's fun to quote poetry and songs but this is not where it's at; I know that. Too many years have rolled under my feet in that fashion. Too many wasted and evil years. I say evil and that may be an exaggeration. But what else would we call the span of time since 1975 when the pattern of hurt, confusion, and anger continued? When I insisted on asking for paper roses?

It was a choice, you see.
Rein me back, my friends, if I threaten to once again land on Fantasy Island.Or revisit Wonderland.

I will have my tall and majestic deep blackred roses, my hands will meet and touch Home. But I'm not alone. I was never the Lone Ranger as I thought I was.

Today I'll buy a new blouse, one with flowers on it like the fashion magazines suggest. Today I'll dress and go to the shops. It will be bright, orange perhaps or yellow, and electric blue. Today I'll finally take out an exercise DVD and limber up my aches and pains. I never had aches and pains before. I kept fit. And for at least two months I haven't lifted weights. I haven't stretched. This is the contemplation phase which I've been through before. My fast from overnight feels good as there's hunger and that's familiar from when I was a younger woman and slimmer.

Today I'll meet a friend and visit. I'll strike out in a new direction somehow, somewhere, some way. There'll be a new direction to my life today. I won't wait for Monday or Tuesday.
The bird is on the wing.

Hello, Ohio. Hello, Michigan. Hello, tall handsome grey haired dudes out there.

Time and fortune wait for no woman. The ancient Roman statues of their Caesars and orators gazed out over the heads of the citizenry, blank eyes staring into a limitless and empty sky. I'm an elder but was a foolish woman. Today is already slipping away although it's early in the morning, and tomorrow is a mirage.

Did you see The Sting? One must be alert.


  1. Replies
    1. Thank you, Piia, you understand me completely. I find understanding to be not a common thing amongst the world of normals.