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.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

I hope Cleveland wins the World Series in 2012

The Runner

Run! she said and ran through streets
steaming with rain while hot winds from Saskatchewan
whipped her hair,
Fondled her face
and tore the soles of her shoes from the pavement.
Run, she said when she was thirty-five or forty,
Too young really to feel the ligaments grow sore and stiff
A precursor of retirement
And arthritis which lamed her joints
Bent her ankles and toes
Her fingers not able to sign the forms for the race
As her seventieth birthday approached
Much loved but broken for the last sprint
Of her life as her friends gently stooped
And lifted her to the finish line.

This is for all those friends and family who are sore, worn out, tired and discouraged. I get that way, too, sometimes, and only spit and baling wire keeps me going.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Beloved November 2011

An interesting fact, no, love is not only a decision but after the initial rough ride of say a year or two (or thirty-seven) it's a feeling once again. And it's no nay never no never no more...

My husband used to call me Puff before he died in 1971. Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal Puff...

But there must be a better name for me and a better song. Maybe I can make it better. Reframing, you know, and a new love and a new year. A new smile.

If there are any comments I'd be interested in the song that describes me now. Maybe not strings and sealing wax, but pearls and books and languages, music and clowns...what????

Tuesday, November 08, 2011


I know what fear, love and anger are and they all swirled together in my tortured mind for too many years.

I've been a wild Rover for many a year
And I spent all my money on whiskey and beer
And now that I'm older and ready to go
Oh, I never will play the wild Rover no more...

And it's no, nay...never
No, never no more
Will I play the wild Rover
No never no more.