Introduction

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.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Not Even A Bird on a Wire

"It is not what they take away from you that counts. It's what you do with what you have left." - Hubert H. Humphrey
There's someone out there who has less than I have and she lives in a fancy neighborhood with a good husband. Arthritis is a crippling and painful disease. She used to jog every Friday. I knew her when she was young. I was young then, too, and I retain the strength and fitness I had back then. But not everyone is as fortunate, and I think there's both physical and mental anguish for the autumn sprite I knew so long ago.

My SZ has taken away much from me. But it has given me strength, compassion and insight into the human soul. It's given me back the emotions that were stunted as a child. I've rejected the dire prophesies of those who would make me a lesser human being, including past therapists, doctors, relatives, co-workers and acquaintances - I've eventually moved on.

Like a bird on a wire I sing. I sing of freedom although my life is presently constrained by law. I sing of happiness and delight in waking up every day although I awake in a single bed in a small suite. Although it's small, there are two large windows facing east, and I see the sun rise every morning and I see the moon rise every night.

I'm sentenced to get help and that's what all this was about in the first place. I was looking for help and I found it. There are doctors and nurses I can call on. My medicines are monitored and provided for me. My psychiatrist will see me indefinitely once a month. I was sentenced to 100 hours of community service and I like the 12 Step Club where I work those hours out. I'll be finished before the end of August. A nurse at the clinic I now attend gave me the number of a Crisis Team I can call anytime 24 hours a day 7 days a week. If I need it. I don't know that I will. But if I need the help it's here.

I don't have to reoffend. And I won't. I'm very sorry I hurt the autumn sprite. She hurt me, too. But a star led me here to a better place. There will be peace in the world; there will be peace in our world; there will be peace in MY world.

I'm not a canary. I'm not even a bird on a wire. I'm a dodo bird, hopping about awkwardly on the ground, unable to fly yet. I've not flown all my life. But yes, I will fly.

I watched The Sting a couple of days ago, starring a young Robert Redford and Paul Newman. What a good movie but you really have to focus to follow the plot.





1 comment:

  1. I love the entire second paragraph of your post. You're no dodo bird (but it was a funny visual) ... you're a Phoenix!

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