Category: personal

  • Letter To R

    I doubt this will ever be sent to OR read by R. Here goes:

    I’m sorry if I’ve sounded harsh, judgmental, or dismissive of your choice of graduate school. I do not mean to be. In previous times, your choice of attending a divinity school over law school would not trouble me as much. But these are different days than even five years ago. You are 28. You are LGBTQ. These two things are worth noting, in my opinion. Your age makes you a bit older, which is good but also gives you a time factor. You might feel right now that you have all the time in the world to explore your options and even change your mind. The dire straits forced upon the world by the climate crisis will directly impact your generation front and center, though all of us on the planet will have to reckon with it. There is an urgency to everything that was lacking in my day. We are running out of time for everything. We do not have the same luxury to make false starts.

    Second. You are LGBTQ. You have said several times that you don’t intend to become a minister but intend to use this as a tool to continue your work in community organizing and held up William Barbour as an example. But William Barbour is able to be so effective partly b/c his organizing grows out of his deep and abiding religious faith, as well as his wonderful humanity. As an LGBTQ individual, I fear that you will struggle to find a place in a community-any community-once you receive your M.Div. It is NOT getting easier for LGBTQ individuals in this country right now in ANY respect but most especially so vis-a-vis the faith community in many Christian denominations. If I  had seen a calling  to become a minister, I would feel less trepidation at what potentially awaits you.  I fear for your future, though. It will a hard road, I predict. The William Barbours and MLKs of the world have it very difficult when they are hetero and have a strong faith. What vilification awaits you?

    But perhaps I will be wrong. You might have a conviction I know not of already. OR you might have your own personal “Damascus road” experience that will give you strength, faith, and a resounding voice to speak such truth to power that that those who would castigate you (impiously) in the name of their god would at the very least hear you. I hope that I am. But whatever befalls you, I wish you the best . I  will follow your progress. You are one of your generation’s voices. I’m happy I got to know you for a bit. I hope you succeed in your endeavors.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

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  • Here I Am Again In A Black Hole

    Here I Am Again In A Black Hole

    Everything should be going well, right? I just had a birthday celebration last night. Friends took me out. I had a room full of people singing HAPPY BIRTHDAY to me. Good food, well wishes, and great company. Even decent music ( Jack sees to that). I went to the FM this morning, caught the haps and the local buzz, bought my minimum-required produce, and hung out for a bit.  My whippet is caught up on stuff til next month. I’m getting ready for company coming from out of town this week.

    AND I’m sitting here feeling so desperate. I saw my Pdoc last week. I gave him my manifesto (Standing On The Edge Of A Cliff). I have friends who have other devastating diseases, including cancer. This is comparable, except that it is invisible. (Maybe, Idk.) I don’t talk about how I do most activities while dragging my depression around like a weight around on my back. Or while having the constant refrain of suicidal thoughts playing in the background. If you’ve not ever attempted to act like you’re living a normal life while that’s going on, let me tell you, it’s not fucking easy.  Is it any wonder I’m behind on some APEC and FOL assignments? I’m a little distracted right now, sorry.

    That I manage to do gross ADLS right now is pretty impressive, never mind that I’m cooking for friends, going to meetings, and making presentations.  When I walk to the library, what stops me from “accidentally” standing in front of a car is the thought that I could hurt someone else. Or if I had a train-involved death, that could also traumatize an innocent bystander. All I want is to disappear and cause as little fuss as possible for those around me. I don’t hate myself or anything like that. I was trying to explain this to the Pdoc. I feel a lot of….overwhelming emotional pain and grief right now. IT HURTS to exist. And I’m tired. So tired. I’ve been fighting depression and various physical things ALL OF MY LIFE. (Part of the deal when you are so premature, I know. But still.)

  • Really Trying Here-Another Blog About Depression

    Really Trying Here-Another Blog About Depression

    This is another entry that won’t get posted to social media. My birthday is coming up on the 15th. I’ll be 58. Big whoop. I’m not doing anything to celebrate, other than not killing myself. (Little morbid humor here.) I’m giving a few presents to friends, since that’s a thing started in my family. On your birthday, you give stuff to significant others to say “thank you”.  People think it’s weird. I don’t care. On FB for my birthday donation org, I requested people donate to the National Suicide Hotline. Fitting, no? I’ve not called during this bout…yet. I’m saving that for my last desperate moments.

    So what am I doing now? I tried to resign my position with VA ORG. I was told by the powers that be that they decided to ignore that decision. I informed them that I might show up at meetings now wearing a shirt that bears the words NO RESPECT. Lol. I had an LTE get published. I’ve had meetings out the wazoo. I had to go INTO the library to work, as opposed to working from home. I’ve had 2 friends over to eat, thereby violating my “no millennials” rule I had established a while back.  I even went out for a drink. So I’ve been active.

    And the entire time I’ve been actively depressed, desperately so. As in on the verge. I’ve found a home for Miss P, should I cease to exist. I’ve given dishes away. I’ve thought about who should get my teaware. I’ve thought about how I would pack everything I own in neat boxes to given to the appropriate organization, if I decided to kill myself. I don’t own much. It would not take long. I could do it in one day. I’ve thought about this.

    I’ve been telling people I’m struggling. This really shouldn’t surprise anyone who knows me. I’m not quite there yet. But the drumbeats  are getting louder….

  • Standing On The Edge Of A Cliff

    Standing On The Edge Of A Cliff

    This entry won’t get posted to any of my other social media. I’ve learned that no-one wants to hear about depression. I don’t blame them. People have their own IRL problems-illness, family things, plumbing, what have you, that they are dealing with. So I’m just going to keep it here. If someone reads it, fine. IF not, that’s cool too. I’m writing b/c I have no fucking mental health care any longer and this is now my outlet.

    I am dealing with major depression. Whaleshit depression, we used to call it back on a site I used to frequent that is no longer extant. That’s the worst kind, when you are in the darkest depths of depression. You aren’t suicidal, b/c that takes TOO MUCH ENERGY. I mean, yeah, it would be NICE IF IT HAPPENED, but I ain’t gonna do anything about it at this point. I can hardly do ADLS right now. Besides, I have the lovely Miss P, who does depend on me. She is currently my tether to this world. (A big burden to place upon a 26 pound whippet, I know.) But if something were to happen to her, I would be MUCH more motivated to finally jump. I’m just SO tired of this.

    What has triggered this latest round? Well, aside from usual odd seasonal SAD-related depression that comes on with springtime and the lengthening days (yep-you read that correctly), I’ve had some erstwhile friends do unfortunate acts that have triggered reverberations. Through a series of mishaps involving cracked ribs on my part and me being out of touch for a bit, I evidently offended one and then the other, so that now both are no longer friends with me. Neither would accept my apology or believe this had been anything other than intentional. At least that’s what I THINK occurred. They both ghosted me at the same time, won’t talk to me, so I’m left to conjecture. But this has been very hurtful for me. And I have to encounter one of these dudes on a regular basis at the FM twice a week. Goodness knows what he’s said to other folks about me. Luckily, I’ve been here a LOT longer than HE has. But this has me re-thinking my whole “make new friends” policy. Ugh.

    In case anyone is thinking of telling me I need to talk to someone, I know. I’VE TRIED TO FIND MENTAL HEALTH HELP. My doc, who is truly a wonder among physicians, has been trying for several years to find me help. But the problem is: I don’t have Medicaid. OR great private insurance or resources. All I have is Medicare and a very limited income. Which effectively cuts me out being  of able to -FIND PDoc; GET to Pdoc, if s/he’s out of town (don’t drive due to seizures); FIND therapist; AFFORD therapist, even if I could find one.

    I don’t want to talk to someone who is waaay younger than I am. IF I’ve had more therapy in my lifetime than you’ve been alive (and could probably teach you a thing or two), then really, what’s the point? No offense to millennials or GenZ folk intended here. I just want to talk to someone who’s been around the block. Of course, this narrows an already small field. Fuck. Who am I kidding? There IS no field. I’ve knocked my head against brick walls in this place til it’s bloody. There comes a point where you say, “Enough.” And just give up. That’s what this blog represents. This is me giving  up seeking help. I’m not trying anymore. I see that, given my (lack of) resources, I do not GET TO HAVE MENTAL HEALTH CARE HERE.  So thank you, insurance company (United Health Care) for making it a fucking “specialist” visit EVERY single time I want to see a therapist. (I tried to appeal this. HAH! Do they not understand how mental health care WORKS???) Thank you, mass transit, for not making transit available for those who need to go to docs outside of this town. (Hello, ADA?) And finally, not being sarcastic here, thank you everyone who HAS tried to help. I appreciate it more than you know.

  • Cursing In Latin

    Cursing In Latin

    I was a Classics Major back in the day as an undergrad. When Cheeto Jesus got elected, I amused myself by hurling imprecations at him in Latin and Greek and the occasional Shakespearean reference for good measure. STILL didn’t manage to get banned from his Twitterfeed. A friend pointed out that I was totally batting over his head-the fool probably thought I was COMPLIMENTING him. Sigh. I miss having a literate POTUS.

    My favorite Latin curse: Te odeo. Interface te cochleare! (I hate you. Kill yourself with a spoon!) Appeals to my morbid sense of whimsy. My second fav: Initam te  coniutarati in foro interficiant! (May conspirators assassinate you in the mall!) My third fav (b/c it is so useful): Futue te ipsum! (Go fuck yourself!)

    So. The next time I’m out in public, on transit or at a WaCoDems meeting and you see me muttering to myself? I’m probably cursing someone out….in Latin. There are many more useful phrases that I’ve not listed here. Latin, though technically a dead language, turns out to be extremely useful for venting one’s ire. Who knew? (The ancient Romans!)

  • Unsteadiness

    I have a sense of …unsteadiness these days, regarding the world around me in all sorts of ways. Physically, in that I’m getting older and more easily apt to fall or be knocked down by some mishap; politically, for sure, as I live in the Commonwealth of Virginia where I’ve seen a three-ring circus starring our top three elected officials lately (and may I say, Mark Herring in particular broke my heart); but what I especially want to address is INTERPERSONAL transience.  I’m not talking about the change that occurs when a loved one moves, falls ill, or even dies; these are life-events that are normal in the course of a friendship and something that I take into account. What I am referring to is relationship instability and unreliability.

    Two examples: I had a friend (NOT a millennial) who was supposed to pick me up from the grocery.  He had sent me a text offering to do so. I replied saying I would take him up on his offer and told him I was waiting outside the grocery. I waited and waited AND WAITED. He didn’t show. Finally, luckily some other friends came along to offer me a ride, otherwise I would had to wait another hour, b/c I had missed transit. He never replied to a text I sent telling him I was going home. I’m unsure now if he’s getting my texts or what, and calling is no good historically with this particular person. But okay, whatever. Maybe he had an emergency or we had a failure to communicate somehow.  But I’m left with having to process this. Ugh. Today I sent him a text asking what he was doing for lunch. No answer again.

    I had a friend tell me yesterday that SHE had a good long-term friend IRL just drop her and not tell her why. She said she has no idea WHY the friend did this-they had had no argument, fight, disagreement or anything resembling anything that should cause such a move. I told her that I think it most likely had nothing to do with HER. But something these days is causing people to lose their ability to make friends, keep friends, or just to plain BE friends. The simple things that I was taught:   Communicate (listen; talk); show up when you say you will; let someone know if you CAN’T; keep in touch (preferably via some human method) regularly; BE THERE…..I just don’t think people can do these  that much anymore. They’re either forgetting how, if they were taught (like people of my gen-and I gotta say, I’m picking up some BAD HABITS from some of my younger friends) or they’ve never learned in the first place. It’s like DEEP READING…it’s something I try to keep doing and sadly fear I fail to do very well any more.

    So, for those of you out there reading this. I hope YOU are faring better than I these days! Maybe if you have a family or a partner, you are not experiencing such a sense of precariousness and impermanence. And I’m not saying that most of my friends have exhibited such behavior. But I’m saying that in general  people are less reliable than PUBLIC TRANSIT……and that’s a sad commentary on the state of affairs.

  • The Tipping Point

    The Tipping Point

    WARNING: This blog contains possible triggering content, if you have mental health issues. Or maybe even if you don’t. Idk. Heavy seas ahead, just sayin….

    I’ve been alarming my internist this past year. She’s sent the roving social worker to check on mental health state. I now have a diagnosis of “recurrent major depression” on her books. We’ve discussed this. BUT….here’s the thing, and why a trip that is upcoming to my pdoc is unlikely to prove much good:

    Depression that is REALITY-based is not actual depression, far as I can see. That is more an accurate assessment of the lay of the land. And from where I sit, I have some legit claims to being a tad morose: Complicated health concerns that are painful, ongoing, getting worse; harassment in my community b/c of gender/orientation/religious beliefs; problematic living conditions; financial concerns that are unlikely to abate, as getting older brings more costs (see the “complicated health concerns”. The current political environment doesn’t help, as it fosters anxiety AND encourages those who like to bully those are different, i.e. people like ME. Ever been the target of a drive-by-Trump rant (PRO)? I have, and it’s not a pleasant thing. No idea WHY I was chosen-was wearing no political gear that day, reading no political book. Maybe I just give off “progressive vibes” or something.

    My pdoc is of NO help. The last time I saw him was around the first of the year. His suggestions were to avoid politics and not read the news. Yeah, doc. How’s THAT working out for you? When I go to his office, his secretary is always playing a Christian station. Don’t know if this is HER or if HE is like this also, and that’s why he is telling me such stupid stuff. He’s the best with meds I’ve ever found, the reason I stick with him. But as a therapist, he sorta sucks.His WIFE was much better-old school, listened, AND knew her meds. But she isn’t available. He keeps this up, I might be looking for a new doc. It’s not like I need complicated meds any longer-I value his opinion on psych meds and neuro meds, and he does know his stuff. But his advice on what to do is really off base. I find it SO useless and SO offensive that I’m going to ask him for a referral when I go see him next week. As the kids say, ain’t nobody got time for that!

    What I’m wondering is: when do you reach the tipping point? When you finally say on a personal level, “Enough is enough!” So far I keep telling myself I can go on. But everyday, it seems like I have to make this decision anew. It’s not a given anymore. Do most people take life for granted? I don’t. I wake up and and think about it.  Right now the balance of this is still on the LIVE side. But that might very well change. I don’t know what would cause it to tip. The death of Miss P? I could see that doing it. A bad election? Another new diagnosis?

    By the way, I’ve found a home for Miss P, should something untoward happen to me (the flu, pneumonia, etc.) Thank you all, everyone, who was kind enough to consider being her new home!

  • Disturbing Encounter (With Staff) At A Ballad Healthcare Practice

    Those who know me personally have heard my various stories about my, ahem, continuing fight to ensure that Ballad (once Mountain States and Wellmont, respectively) honors its stated non-discrimination policies. You can easily read them posted on the wall of any (former) Mountain States facility you visit. This particular incident took place at a (former) Wellmont practice, though. The more I’ve reflected on it, the more perturbing I found it, so I did my research. Here’s what transpired:

    The neurologist I had been seeing at Wellmont Neurological Associates had prescribed a VERY old (but most importantly one I had never tried) anti-epileptic. He mentioned that it might be sedating. So I filled the script and got back on the AED merry-go-round. I began noticing as I titrated slowly to my therapeutic dose that I was feeling wired, like I had had 5 cups of coffee and two energy drinks. No sedation, though I read up on the med and given its profile, I should have definitely been feeling a lot less ancy, tense, and hyped up. AEDs are always tricky and sometimes unpredictable in their side effects, but I was having a paradoxical reaction (indeed). I won’t go into the other side effects, only to say that it is just a brutal drug.

    So per protocol I send my neuro a message about this through the patient portal. A week goes by. No response. Finally I get a call from his nurse, who is calling to remind me that the doctor said, “it might be a little sedating.” I tell her (politely) that that is the opposite of what I said in my message and reiterate for her the effects it was having. In addition, I asked her to request that the doctor (or whoever does this) to send me a message through the patient portal explaining exactly how  titrate down from the former AED. (He had rushed through this explanation at the office visit. There was so much we needed to cover I didn’t have a chance to take notes.) She said she would get back to me THAT AFTERNOON.

    After two weeks had passed with STILL no response from his office, I decided that, given that this physician and I did not seem to  be communicating well, I would change to a different physician in the practice. (Forget communicating, actually. He man-splained, cut me off in mid-sentence, and overall acted like a jerk. But I was willing reluctantly to put up with his delusions of grandeur, i.e. that he is a god-physician, IF HE SEEMED TO PROVIDE GOOD MEDICAL CARE. But the communication problem is a medical issue. So.)

    I called the office and told the gatekeeper (unsure of her title-but you go through her for everything) that I wished to change to a different doctor in the practice and gave her the name of the one who had been recommended (by another one of my docs). First reaction: She was SHOCKED- shocked, I tell you!-that I had the audacity to make such a request. (Surely I’m not the first person in the history of this practice to have done this?) Second reaction: She absolutely did not want to facilitate my request. First she told me I had to go through the patient portal. I informed her that 1) there was no means to do this via the portal and 2) my messages to my current physician were getting extremely misconstrued.

    Here’s the kicker: When she FINALLY agreed to do this,  she informed me that BOTH doctors would have to agree to this transfer. I was rather dumbfounded at this, having never heard of a physician  having “veto” privileges over a transfer. I could understand having to check with my proposed doctor, to ensure he had room in his practice, treated my particular neuro subset of ailments, etc. I told her to please expedite this matter and let me know what transpired. Just to cover my bases, I sent a formal request to my then-neuro asking the same. (And in both I was as always very polite and civil.) I got a call from her the next day saying my transfer had been approved but that I could not get an appt with the new guy until August.

    The more I reflected on this, the more disturbing I found it. Under common law, based on court decisions, all patients have the right to choose the physician of their choice, if the physician agrees to provide services. But I am also a Medicare (traditional, no so-call advantage plan) recipient, so there are specific Federal Guidelines that state that a patient’s choice of physicians must be honored. I believe that this is covered by  U. S. Code>Title 42> Chapter 7>Subchapter XVIII> Subsection 1395a:

    (a)Basic freedom of choice

    Any individual entitled to insurance benefits under this subchapter may obtain health services from any institution, agency, or person qualified to participate under this subchapter if such institution, agency, or person undertakes to provide him such services.

    Though the outcome was ultimately what I wished, I believe I might have a talk with the office manager at my next visit. I want to find out what their exact policy is. (I’m also consulting with a lawyer friend beforehand. not b/c I’m taking any action, just to ensure I have my facts straight regarding this.) But if what the gatekeeper said is true, then I believe this practice is engaging in FOC violations, functionally (b/c not everyone will be as persistent as I)  and certainly at least skirting the edge of violating it, if even by ignorance by the gatekeeper. (And if you work in that job, you should know what you are doing. This sort of thing could open the practice up to all kinds of trouble.)

  • Labels And Identity

    This is how I ID: Ace (asexual); FtN (Female to Neutrois); Aro (aromantic) Queer; Atheist; Progressive. That pretty much covers it. So. I often get asked, “Why use labels? Why not just be yourself?” Here is my answer.

    I use the labels I do because they EXIST now. And for me as an individual, they are wondrous concepts. Imagine spending your entire life seeing the color blue. You could try to describe the color to other people but didn’t really have the words for it. Then later in your life you discover that there are others who see the color blue, also. You find out that there ARE words for this and that BLUE is a color, and for the first time, you are able to talk about it. You are NOT alone in your weird little world, seeing this intense thing by yourself.

     

    So, there’s that aspect of it. Also, I find them useful shorthand that provides a succinct description of who I am. Since those terms are relatively unfamiliar to most in these neck of the woods except for those who take an interest in gender theory,  using them usually gives me an opportunity to give a (very) brief mini-update on nonbinary gender. Most people are open to hearing about it, though skeptical as to whether it exist “really” or if it’s just something that is made-up and  imported from those crazy people in, Idk, California…(much like some folks still think of baby kale or arugula, lol.) I don’t mind this and accept that not everyone will understand or agree. This IS SW VA. But change is coming, however slowly. And I’ll continue to use my labels and ask for my “they/their/them” pronouns. Thank you.

  • Transient Blues: Slings And Arrows

    Transient Blues: Slings And Arrows

    I am aghast over an incident that took place today at a local laundromat that I frequent (the Laundry Room, in Abingdon, VA). When it first opened, I had been waiting for transit on a bench out front. I had my laundry by my side and was reading my Kindle. The owner of the laundromat pulls up in his car and informs me that I have to move on. I tell him that I am waiting for transit. He says that transients aren’t welcome, that this facility is only for laundry customers. I gesture to my LAUNDRY BAG and LAUNDRY DETERGENT and reply that I just finished using his laundromat so would it be acceptable if I used his bench, while I waited for my ride? He apologized and told me that I was of course welcome to sit there while I waited. (I didn’t say this but I was also thinking, “Laundry bag. Laundry detergent. Wearing Ralph Lauren. Reading a Kindle. How does that add up to “transient”? ) But whatever.

    Now, I REALLY like his laundromat. It’s always extremely clean; the machines invariably work; I can use my credit card; there’s no annoying country music that proclaims that the white Xtian male is the supreme life form; it is safe, with security cameras even. I can leave my laundry supplies there, should I wish to walk over to Food City for groceries, and know they will be there when I return. The location is another selling point, though that’s going to change, of course, when Food City relocates. But now it’s still nice to walk to do a bit of shopping while I do laundry. BUT…..

    I was sitting in the laundromat this morning. I was not wearing my sometimes uniform of distressed jeans and beloved Docs. I had actually put on chinos (RL, as it happened), a sweater (also RL), as it was chilly, and had on a beanie b/c my head gets cold. Oh, and Uggs. Bear with me, I’ve a reason for this fashion statement. I’ve put my clothes in the washing machine. I have my Method laundry detergent sitting beside me- a bottle which prominently reads: Method LAUNDRY DETERGENT. I have my laundry bag in the chair next to me and a laundry cart next to it. I’m reading my Kindle. So. The ownder of the laundromat comes up to me…and tells me I have to move along. I’m not kidding. I look at him and say: You did NOT just do that to me again? Please tell me you did not just say that ! He THEN asks me if I’m a laundry customer! I say to him: Dude! This is the SECOND time you have done this to me! LOOK AT ME! HELLO??? He starts stammering and telling me the same story about problems with transients that he gave me before. I replied that he might have a problem with transients but I was NOT part of that problem! He told me he was sorry and left in a hurry.

    I put my clothes in the dryer and thought about the encounter. I decided I wanted to make EXTREMELY CERTAIN that he knew what I looked like, so this would not happen again. I walked over to car wash next door, which he also owns, to ensure he got a good long look at me. I wasn’t intending to confrontative, just firm, as I really wasn’t sure this guy did really see me. He had left the laundromat speedily, as he appeared to be embarassed, rightly so. He wasn’t there, but his employees said his son would be there in about an hour and I could address what had transpired with him, and they added that he was a very reasonable person (obviously meaning to contrast him to the person I had encountered). Well, after I had gone back to the laundromat to get my clothes, here comes the owner again! He wanted to apologize more profusely and explain AGAIN about the transients (geeze, I got it the first time) and this time, just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse…he pulls out his billfold and tries to give me money! I stared at him, dumbfounded! I thought, ” You just have NO clue, do you?” I refused his money, of course. (How insulting!) I shook my head and told him gently that all I wanted was for this NOT to happen again-to anyone. I obviously was dealing with someone who had…issues. I’m not sure living breathing transients were really his problem. Lol.