Category: Personal

New Years Resolve, Binge or Be

FdBrn

copyright © 2010 Betsy L. Angert.  BeThink.org

Another year has come and gone.  Everywhere she goes she hears people speak of New Years resolutions.  They all say this time will be different.  I will decide to do as I had not done previously or at least had not done well.  Countless commit to a life of calorie counting.  Others merely muse that they will exercise more.  Drugs, drinking, there are also discussions of these concerns.  People are confident.  This year I will deliver myself from what I think evil.  A few philosophize as to their personal career path.  Change is the objective.  A greater goal is thought to be golden.  As Author Mary Anne Radmacher reflected and now millions whisper as their mantra, “Live with intention . . .  Choose with no regret. . . . Do what you love. Live as if this is all there is.”  Therein lies the problem.

A Response to Comments

I haven’t posted an essay in a while, and, I received an email or two asking about me.  

I appreciate the concern.  

There were some comments made to my last few essays that I believe I should address.

The Mental Illness Stigma Takes a Sexist Dimension

As I myself struggle with a chronic disease of the brain best known as mental illness, I am constantly aware of discriminatory practices towards those who suffer with the same disability as I do. To make a long story short, some years back I befriended a woman who attended the same support group as I did.  She and I have maintained close contact ever since then and I frequently serve as a sympathetic ear when she needs someone to talk to about how her illness complicates her daily life and complicates her understandable desire to be the best mother that she can to her kids.  At times she is deeply reluctant to share with me the issues most pressing and more distressing, but today she opened up and talked at length about a matter that had been troubling her for quite some time.

My friend deals with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and depression, two conditions I struggle with myself. For many reasons, money being one of them, she’s been off her meds for the past several months and is unwilling to seek further treatment. Since she has recently separated from her soon-to-be ex-husband, she is reluctant to go to a psychiatrist and be prescribed new meds because she fears losing custody of her three children.  I believed her worry to be justified, but it wasn’t until I did some research to bolster my argument that I realized just how commonplace a problem this is.  The below passage spells out the matter in detail.

Some state laws cite mental illness as a condition that can lead to loss of custody or parental rights. Thus, parents with mental illness often avoid seeking mental health services for fear of losing custody of their children. Custody loss rates for parents with mental illness range as high as 70-80 percent, and a higher proportion of parents with serious mental illnesses lose custody of their children than parents without mental illness. Studies that have investigated this issue report that:

   *

     Only one-third of children with a parent who has a serious mental illness are being raised by that parent.

   *

     In New York, 16 percent of the families involved in the foster care system and 21 percent of those receiving family preservation services include a parent with a mental illness.

   *

     Grandparents and other relatives are the most frequent caretakers if a parent is psychiatrically hospitalized, however other possible placements include voluntary or involuntary placement in foster care.[1]

The major reason states take away custody from parents with mental illness is the severity of the illness, and the absence of other competent adults in the home.[2] Although mental disability alone is insufficient to establish parental unfitness, some symptoms of mental illness, such as disorientation and adverse side effects from psychiatric medications, may demonstrate parental unfitness. A research study found that nearly 25 percent of caseworkers had filed reports of suspected child abuse or neglect concerning their clients.[3]

The loss of custody can be traumatic for a parent and can exacerbate their illness, making it more difficult for them to regain custody. If mental illness prevents a parent from protecting their child from harmful situations, the likelihood of losing custody is drastically increased.

Having mental illness is bad enough, but for women with mental illness, the repercussions are far more severe.  A lethal combination of sexism and Paternalism is to blame.  Recent history records the most extreme cases, instances which were blown out of proportion and sensationalized to such a degree that they tainted our understanding of brain disorders, particularly regarding women with children.  The image in most peoples’ minds likely flashes back to the negative publicity surrounding the Andrea Yates case, in which a mother suffering from post-partum depression and psychosis drowned her children.  A second example is Dena Schlosser, who, suffering from postpartum psychosis, killed her eleven-month-old daughter believing she was sacrificing her to God.  A less well known example is that of Assia Wevill, Ted Hughes’ second wife, a depressive, who killed herself and her four-year-old daughter in a murder/suicide.  Extreme cases like these have led many to believe that children must be uprooted and taken away from mothers who suffer from any degree of mental illness, no matter how minor.  If only it were that simple.  Yet again, women are deemed not responsible enough to handle their personal lives, the state (and we, by proxy), jump the gun and assume that keeping children safe is more important than understanding the crucial nuances of the situation.

I severely dislike the term “mental illness” because the phrasing makes it seem as though all brain disorders are similar.  Mental illness is an umbrella term, but it is not a precise diagnosis.  Brain disorders vary in severity and in their physical manifestation.  Many assume that mentally ill means psychotic or schizophrenic, when those are merely the most severe forms of a vast spectrum of related, but not identical disorders. I cannot emphasize enough that many people who are treated properly with medications lead otherwise normal lives with the need for a few modest changes in lifestyle here and then as the case may be.  This goes for mothers in the same way as for fathers.  In being so draconian about custody rights, government overreaches, assuming a child must be protected from a parent who is likely to abuse her child.  

I wish we would learn that policies implemented out of a fear of bad publicity and a resulting media firestorm have many times created major problems often more severe than the ones they’ve sought to address.  To be fair, while specific legislation has been passed to address this matter, laws are only as effective as those who follow them and those who enforce them properly.  The letter of the law does not address the stigma which exists in the minds of those who do not understand the peculiarities and particulars of a still very misunderstood and still taboo subject.  To best address this travesty of justice, it will take more exposure and more visibility to bring an end to this.

The Doctor is no More 2010102

Wow, what a sendoff for Tennent!  He saved the universe from The Master, and also booted the Time Lords from existence, since they would have done anything to continue to exist.  This new series, like the new Star Trek, is a reboot.

I prefer the original timelines, but I also understand that to keep viewers, the story much change to be current.  But it does not mean that the original timeline has to chance.  Please keep with me to agree that I, Translator, should be the next Doctor in the series.

A Merry Fucking X-Mas

It’s Christmas Eve.  

But, I’m not supposed to be able to feel the joy, or, if there is some, the pain.  Because I take anti-depressants.

Do you know what an anti-depressant does to you?  It flat-lines your brain.

It is designed to keep those feeling down from being able to feel down.  It also keeps you from feeling good.

Do you know how we counteract it?

Please send money, food, and job postings.

Just when things are looking about as down for me as they can get, I find the bottom dropping out again.  I am currently registered with Cuyahoga Community College for the spring semester, reliant on what financial aid I can get to pay for classes and transportation, as well as food when money allows.  I can’t get a job.  Often,I must raid the student food bank just to have enough to eat for the week.

This past semester I learned that my financial aid would be cut off because I had reached the maximum number of course credit hours (93), and would have to file an appeal for further financial assistance.  I did that, got the paperwork months ago, got it filled out, but was told repeatedly by the financial aid office to wait until December, when grades were due to be posted.  So I handed the paperwork in on December 8th, when I was told to, and was informed that it would be two weeks for the process to be completed.

I found out yesterday that the process may take another two weeks or more, partly because of the holidays and partly because FAFSA has decided to take its sweet time.  I have until January 6th to make payment arrangements with the campus business office so I can remain registered for courses.  If I am not approved, or if I haven’t made payment arrangements by the 6th, I will be dropped from my courses and will receive no money from FAFSA.  Payment arrangements must be made with a deposit up front.

This isn’t simply a matter of wanting to remain in school to finish up the required courses to earn my degree.  It’s quite literally a matter of survival.  Because I can’t get a job (no one will hire me), financial aid is all I have to live on.  Without it, I have no money for food, no money to pay for my telephone and Internet connection – I need at least a phone line for prospective employers to get a hold of me, no money for transportation, to say nothing of money for classes and textbooks.  Everything depends on the dubious mercy of FAFSA getting around to reviewing my appeal some time after the first of the year.

So I am typing this entry now, at a public library terminal, reduced to begging you for money, food, and any job postings on Cleveland, Ohio’s west side.  Bear in mind that the only transportation I now have is my own two feet after the 31st of this month, so it has to be within a reasonable walking distance from where I live.

I am willing to provide my full name and mailing address for those of you able to donate money, food, or both.  PayPal locked me out, and I have no other online means of accepting donations.  You can reach me by e-mail here: [email protected]

I’m in a pretty dire situation, so anyone able to help out please do so.  I’m not too proud to beg, not after more than two straight years of unemployment and existing each and every day under the threat of homelessness and starvation.

It’s time for me to die

Yes, this is a very personal, and internal, essay.

The title states what I feel, “It is time for me to die”.

My best days are behind me.

Surviving two warzones.  Surviving the minefields of Iraq.  Surviving my time as a cop.

I knew, from the time I was 18 and had joined the military as an Explosive Ordnance Disposal Specialist, that my time on Earth was limited.

That, however, didn’t prove to be true…

LOL, please.

Luck: Couple of months ago, my husband's stepmother's niece, 18 years old, wants heated windshield wipers. Can't find them online, files a patent and now Walmart wants the rights. True story. (seriously)

  Funny

Why I am the Mom of the Year: If your five year old finds your vibrator and thinks it's a light saber, running around the house swinging it with both hands zroom-zroom, you might want to downsize or at least choose a different color. (no comment)

Funny

 Best Drinks Ever: Eiswein and Chocolate milk made with dark cocoa.

 Funny

 I am a veteran, a mama of three and soon starting my junior year pursuing a degree in Microbiology, then on to PA school (please science gods). I am a eco-socialist libertarian progressive atheist who also happens to have a single economic thought progressives hate so you will have to be in the dark about because unlike vibrator stories, its personal. Proud Moment: I met Howard Dean in Iowa the week he made both the Newsweek and Time covers. I would have a picture if not for some asshole who bumped my husband as he took the picture. Because we were with Sen. Johnson people, we were able to hang around in the background with Dean and his people after the event. Pelosi's daughter was filming. I hope I am not on film. I haven't watched her documentary for just that reason. Stupid, I know.

My Favorite Joke:

 

Hi! -Christina

I’m Unemployed again and losing hope

Crossposted at Daily Kos

     So the bad news is I lost my job. The good news is, well, coming soon, I guess. If anyone knows of quality employment that can be found in NYC, please let me know about it in the comments below.

     My little adventure as a Paid Progressive Activist (Fundraising) has come to an end because I didn’t make my quotas.

     Our daily quotas were $125 a day or $625 a week. Mind you, we’re standing outside, freezing our asses off while busy NYers scuttle by, bracing themselves against the wind. It is not easy to ask for charitable donations in such conditions. If you make your quota you get paid $375 for the week plus bonuses. If not, you get min. wage. I raised $525 in 5 days, but it broke down to 28 the first day, 10 the second, 425 the 3rd, 5 on the fourth and 20 on the last, so I was dismissed. I raised $525 and will get paid min. wage at 40 hours for the week. It seems a neat little scam, don’t it? You can pay people min. wage then sack them the first week whether they are performing or not. Sucks. At least I’ll get that one pay check though.

    Frankly, I am running out of hope for both myself and the political/economic system that is broken beyond repair.

    More below the fold.

Kate’s Old-Fashioned American Christmas

What Elves Really Do at Christmas



I have mentioned that I am an elf. Mama Elf, in fact, and that’s Papa there in the photo. Our children are Dipsy Elf and Elfis (thank you very much, complete with blue suede elf shoes), we do “line maintenance” at the mall during the holiday season where there’s always a long line of parents and kids waiting patiently to sit on some Santa’s knee and inform him of their heart’s desire – and get their picture taken so Mom and Dad can make Christmas cards to send off to the relatives.

We don’t work for the photo ding, though. We work for the mall itself. Pays much better. For the first two years after we’d moved to these mountains Papa and I provided the entertainment at a Christmas theme park in Cherokee, the only steady work we could find in our field in a new state and fairly unpopulated region since we determined to leave the city life behind. Six shows a day, seven days a week, 26 weeks a year from Memorial Day through Halloween. It was grueling, but did get us the ‘in’ we needed to market our elves to malls closer to home, and that allowed us to keep our curly toes in the profession we’d pioneered in North Florida all those many years ago.

We didn’t start out as elves. We started as clowns. Hubby and son as juggling partners, daughter as set designer and fill-in for balloon sculpture and face painting, me as last resort. I refused to learn to juggle because they would have sold me in the birthday party lineup, and I had my hands full already. I made the costumes, built the puppets, maintained the props, wrote the skit scripts, stage managed the rehearsals, and kept the calendar schedule up to date. Which was quite tricky in a region of more than 2 million people. Birthday parties, resorts, country clubs, company picnics, civic events, stage shows at festivals and night clubs and so many other venues. During the summer there was such a demand for your basic birthday party clown that we hired up to a dozen of the kids’ college friends and paid them $20 an hour (out of the $100 an hour we charged) after training, which was our son SkyPup’s department.

To buhdydharma… I DO understand…

Buhdydharma has asked for our help.  Some of us are unable to help financially, others are able.  But, after reading his essay, this part of it struck me:

I cannot express to you the psychological blow it was for me, after decades of taking perhaps excessive pride in having worked my way up from nothing to a position of relative success, to be suddenly crippled and unable to support myself.

I can fully understand, and buhdy, you aren’t the only one who has found themselves in this situation…

I got a job as a paid Progressive Activist

     Crossposted at Daily Kos

    After months of looking for work my search is over. I am now a paid progressive activist with Fund for the Public Interest.

The Fund: Experts In Building Organizations, Winning Campaigns & Training Activists

    Fund for the Public Interest’s 25-year commitment to professional, systematic grassroots action has made us the go-to group in our field. When it comes to building organizations and creating the groundswell of public support needed to overcome powerful special interest opposition, our effectiveness is unrivaled.

    In 20 states, the Fund trains our staff to raise money, recruit members and do grassroots political work on behalf of more than 50 progressive organizations – including the Sierra Club, the Human Rights Campaign and Environment America. Meanwhile, hundreds of Fund alumni lead the way for hundreds of other effective political organizations, elected officials, and socially-conscious businesses.

Fund for the Public Interest

    Just when you think things can’t get any worse, a door opens somewhere.

    More below the fold. . .  

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