Heartbreak, inside and out
Everything is now officially fucking fucked. My fucking pathetic life has just crumbled beneath my feet. What bout …
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Today... right here... on myspace... in front of millions of people... I am tearing my heart open to let the world see what's inside...
If you're squeamish, you might want to look away...
So here's the truth... raw and bloody like my dissected heart... are you ready for it? Can you handle it.? This is your last chance to stop reading... I'm warning you... this is going to be brutal!
I am dying, literally! No one cares enough to do anything about it. There is no metaphor here. No poetry. No attempts to make my life appear to be morbidly poetic to support my "gothic" image... FUCK ALL THAT!!! I try to make the words pretty so they won't be so difficult to read, yet the message still is not received.
I've just given up custody of my children. I'm admitting myself to a mental institution next month (if I live that long). I have lost everything that makes life worth living, and though I am consensually signing away my rights, I'M LOSING MY FUCKING FREEDOM!
Do any of you assholes who casually watch me disintegrate in front of your very own eyes know what that means to me? FREEDOM is the backbone of all that I believe in and I am sacrificing MY FREEDOM for the sake of my family.
I am taking a huge gamble, and the stakes are not in my favor! There is NO CURE. There is treatment. There is HOPE that life can be better for me, but it's never going to be "normal". But I am too weak to take the steps to get the help that I need. I have run on the hamster-wheel of the Humboldt County Mental Health bureaucracy red-tape bullshit for over a year now, and I have gotten absolutely NOWHERE! I'm too exhausted to carry on. I think that's what they count on. If enough of us loonies die from the exhaustion of trying to get help from a broken system, then there will be less of us to have to deal with. ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME? I'M BEING COMPLETELY SERIOUS.
Listen very closely, because my life depends on it.... I am not suicidal, though by all rights I should be, but If I don't start getting some help right now... I'M GOING TO DIE. DEAD. GONE. NOT COMING BACK. Do you get it? The local mental health hospital kills people like me. I won't go there. I can't get a referral to an out-of-area hospital until my appointment with the psychiatrist which isn't until next month. I need help sustaining my life until then. Who's willing to make a little personal sacrifice of time and maybe a little gas money to come check on me and make sure I'm still breathing? Who's willing to help me get my business matters dealt with so that I do not leave utter chaos for Max to have to deal with once I'm gone? All of the things I NEED to do before I am removed from "the real world" are too overwhelming for me...stacks and stacks of paperwork, legal filings, a pending disability case, appointments to make, the list goes on and on. Max has her plate full with work and the kids, so I can't BURDEN her with any more of MY bullshit. She's going to end up in the hospital with me if people do not step up and help us. My mother is apathetic and useless in this process. So who else do I have to turn to?
Do you care? DO YOU REALLY FUCKING CARE?
I sit here alone... daily... my mind turning to mush. I can no longer do simple math. The concept of space and time might as well be quantum physics or DNA deconstruction. Forget about trying to manage money... I get at least 10 bill collection calls daily. Some days I lose the ability to speak. WORDS CANNOT COME OUT NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY, like I've had a stroke or something. I'm hallucinating daily visually, auditory, olfactory, AND sensory. I am not exaggerating the facts, but I'm not willing to candy-coat them anymore either. I may be passionate, but I am no drama queen. I have declined to such a state, I'm lucky if I shower once a week, or manage to get completely dressed in a day. I'm told to call this person, that person, I get the run around. I'm told to write to my Congressman, Mike Thompson, that he will surely get me help... but I have to keep it under two pages, and there's just too many complicated details to my story to condense into 2 fucking pages! So even though my ability to write has not been as impaired as other cognitive functions (THANK GOD!) I can't do it. I'm told to get a case manager, but then I'm told there are none available. i'm told to get a mental health advocate... where? Who do i call? I can't hardly speak on the phone anymore. I call these agencies for help and forget what to say. They dismiss me as not being severe (ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?).
HELP, GODDAMMIT, HELP! can I say it any clearer? Why do I have to take such drastic measures to wake people up from their apathetic stupor? I don't want everyone in the whole fucking world to know about all my demons... but I've asked for help in every other way I could think of.
My cries for help have fallen on deaf ears... and all you fuckers who read my blogs then flit away to read another, or check out your friends' bulletins without even batting an eye should be ashamed of yourselves for your apathy. If it were you that were in need instead of myself, I'd be at your doorstep with a notebook and a pen ready to take down a "things to do list" to help make your life better. SHAME ON YOU!
So please forgive my abrupt, abrasive, harsh and down-right nasty language. It seems like the only things that Americans pay very much attention to these days are sex and violence. I'm far from sexy at this very moment... SO HERE'S YOUR FUCKING VIOLENCE... in your face...hating you for not loving me enough to do something, anything to lessen the pain and anguish in my head. I do not want to be cruel, or hurt people's feelings... but just put yourself in my shoes for just a moment... your life may be busy, and I'm sure you have your own problems to deal with, but I guarantee you aren't living in agonizing hell like I am... and if you were, I wouldn't be staring at the computer screen like a deer caught in headlights. I could not live with myself if I lost a good friend because I was too apathetic to take action.
So can you handle the truth? It's ugly. I carry it around with me everyday and try to hide it from everyone I love so that they won't have to "feel bad", or in some way suffer ill-effects of MY disease. But now it's gone too far. I can't hide it anymore. How "bad" will you feel now if I succumb to this disease before you've found time in your daily calendar to pencil me in?
How does the truth make you feel? And now what will you do with it? Will it harden your heart and make you hate me for my brutal honesty, or will it light a fire under your ass to make a difference in someone's life? It's off my chest and in your hands now.
If you're squeamish, you might want to look away...
So here's the truth... raw and bloody like my dissected heart... are you ready for it? Can you handle it.? This is your last chance to stop reading... I'm warning you... this is going to be brutal!
I am dying, literally! No one cares enough to do anything about it. There is no metaphor here. No poetry. No attempts to make my life appear to be morbidly poetic to support my "gothic" image... FUCK ALL THAT!!! I try to make the words pretty so they won't be so difficult to read, yet the message still is not received.
I've just given up custody of my children. I'm admitting myself to a mental institution next month (if I live that long). I have lost everything that makes life worth living, and though I am consensually signing away my rights, I'M LOSING MY FUCKING FREEDOM!
Do any of you assholes who casually watch me disintegrate in front of your very own eyes know what that means to me? FREEDOM is the backbone of all that I believe in and I am sacrificing MY FREEDOM for the sake of my family.
I am taking a huge gamble, and the stakes are not in my favor! There is NO CURE. There is treatment. There is HOPE that life can be better for me, but it's never going to be "normal". But I am too weak to take the steps to get the help that I need. I have run on the hamster-wheel of the Humboldt County Mental Health bureaucracy red-tape bullshit for over a year now, and I have gotten absolutely NOWHERE! I'm too exhausted to carry on. I think that's what they count on. If enough of us loonies die from the exhaustion of trying to get help from a broken system, then there will be less of us to have to deal with. ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME? I'M BEING COMPLETELY SERIOUS.
Listen very closely, because my life depends on it.... I am not suicidal, though by all rights I should be, but If I don't start getting some help right now... I'M GOING TO DIE. DEAD. GONE. NOT COMING BACK. Do you get it? The local mental health hospital kills people like me. I won't go there. I can't get a referral to an out-of-area hospital until my appointment with the psychiatrist which isn't until next month. I need help sustaining my life until then. Who's willing to make a little personal sacrifice of time and maybe a little gas money to come check on me and make sure I'm still breathing? Who's willing to help me get my business matters dealt with so that I do not leave utter chaos for Max to have to deal with once I'm gone? All of the things I NEED to do before I am removed from "the real world" are too overwhelming for me...stacks and stacks of paperwork, legal filings, a pending disability case, appointments to make, the list goes on and on. Max has her plate full with work and the kids, so I can't BURDEN her with any more of MY bullshit. She's going to end up in the hospital with me if people do not step up and help us. My mother is apathetic and useless in this process. So who else do I have to turn to?
Do you care? DO YOU REALLY FUCKING CARE?
I sit here alone... daily... my mind turning to mush. I can no longer do simple math. The concept of space and time might as well be quantum physics or DNA deconstruction. Forget about trying to manage money... I get at least 10 bill collection calls daily. Some days I lose the ability to speak. WORDS CANNOT COME OUT NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY, like I've had a stroke or something. I'm hallucinating daily visually, auditory, olfactory, AND sensory. I am not exaggerating the facts, but I'm not willing to candy-coat them anymore either. I may be passionate, but I am no drama queen. I have declined to such a state, I'm lucky if I shower once a week, or manage to get completely dressed in a day. I'm told to call this person, that person, I get the run around. I'm told to write to my Congressman, Mike Thompson, that he will surely get me help... but I have to keep it under two pages, and there's just too many complicated details to my story to condense into 2 fucking pages! So even though my ability to write has not been as impaired as other cognitive functions (THANK GOD!) I can't do it. I'm told to get a case manager, but then I'm told there are none available. i'm told to get a mental health advocate... where? Who do i call? I can't hardly speak on the phone anymore. I call these agencies for help and forget what to say. They dismiss me as not being severe (ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?).
HELP, GODDAMMIT, HELP! can I say it any clearer? Why do I have to take such drastic measures to wake people up from their apathetic stupor? I don't want everyone in the whole fucking world to know about all my demons... but I've asked for help in every other way I could think of.
My cries for help have fallen on deaf ears... and all you fuckers who read my blogs then flit away to read another, or check out your friends' bulletins without even batting an eye should be ashamed of yourselves for your apathy. If it were you that were in need instead of myself, I'd be at your doorstep with a notebook and a pen ready to take down a "things to do list" to help make your life better. SHAME ON YOU!
So please forgive my abrupt, abrasive, harsh and down-right nasty language. It seems like the only things that Americans pay very much attention to these days are sex and violence. I'm far from sexy at this very moment... SO HERE'S YOUR FUCKING VIOLENCE... in your face...hating you for not loving me enough to do something, anything to lessen the pain and anguish in my head. I do not want to be cruel, or hurt people's feelings... but just put yourself in my shoes for just a moment... your life may be busy, and I'm sure you have your own problems to deal with, but I guarantee you aren't living in agonizing hell like I am... and if you were, I wouldn't be staring at the computer screen like a deer caught in headlights. I could not live with myself if I lost a good friend because I was too apathetic to take action.
So can you handle the truth? It's ugly. I carry it around with me everyday and try to hide it from everyone I love so that they won't have to "feel bad", or in some way suffer ill-effects of MY disease. But now it's gone too far. I can't hide it anymore. How "bad" will you feel now if I succumb to this disease before you've found time in your daily calendar to pencil me in?
How does the truth make you feel? And now what will you do with it? Will it harden your heart and make you hate me for my brutal honesty, or will it light a fire under your ass to make a difference in someone's life? It's off my chest and in your hands now.
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YES I DO HEAR YOU AND BELIEVE THIS OR NOT, I DO KNOW WHAT YOU ARE GOING THROUGH. I HAVE SPENT THE LAST 6 YEARS WITHOUT MY CHILDREN AFTER RAISING THEM FOR 10 YEARS ON MY OWN, AND I MADE THE DECISION BASED ON WHO I AM AND THE TRUTH OF IT ALL. I THOUGHT I WAS DOING THE RIGHT THING, AND IN MORE TIME, YES THEY WILL SEE THAT. I HAD ALL I COULD TAKE LAST YEAR AND YES I WAS INPATIENT IN A BEHAVIORAL HEALTH CNTR. IT IS A VERY PAINFUL AND HEARTBREAKING ROAD TO TAKE, BUT I THINK A MOTHER WHO MAKES A DECISION BASED ON WHAT THEY THINK IS BEST FOR THEIR CHILDREN NOT FOR THEM, IS THE ULTIMATE SHOW OF LOVE AND SACRAFICE. I KNOW, I DID IT! I LIVE WITH NO REGRETS NOW, I PLANTED THOSE SEEDS, THEY WILL BE BAK! LETS TALK AND WE CAN HELP EACH OTHER IM SURE. IM SO GLAD I READ THIS, I REALLY AM. IVE BEEN IN THAT PLACE SO I DO KNOW.
heavnhelpme
UNFORTUNATELY THERE IS BEUROCRATIC BULLSHIT IN GETTING ANY KIND OF HEALTH BENEFITS IN THIS COUNTRY, ESPECIALLY MENTAL HEALTH HELP. THERE IS SUCH A STIGMATISM TO IT, BUT I GATHER I DONT HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT. WHAT EXACTLY IS IT THAT YOU NEED HON? YOU SPOKE OF DISABILITY SO IM GUESSING THERE IS NO EMPLOYEE ASSISTANCE PROGRAMS AVAILABLE TO YOU, WHAT ABOUT YOUR PARTNER? IM SURE YOU HAVE GONE DOWN EVERY AVENUE POSSIBLE, BUT IM JUST TRYING TO GET A FEEL FOR WHAT IT IS U REALLY NEED. NOT SERIOUS ENUFF? YEAH, THAT'S A FUKIN JOKE, IT IS SERIOUS AND YOU SHOULD BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY. I HATE THAT SHIT. WHERE ARE YOU EXACTLY, CITY, COUNTY? SORRY I HAVENT TAKEN THE TIME TO LOOK AT YOUR ENTIRE PROFILE, I WANTED TO CONTACT YOU FIRST, CUZ SOMEONE DOES CARE!!
heavnhelpme