I’ve gone radio silent on this blog the past few weeks for a couple of reasons. The first is I’ve been working on my book and that zaps my writing strength. The second is I’ve been grappling with the inevitable emotional fallout of revisiting a difficult time and exposing the details publicly through this blog. Of course this is nothing compared to what I should expect once the book is finished and offered for public read, so perhaps it is a good test run to see if I have the mettle to withstand the vulnerability that comes from transparency. Continue reading “Truth telling: the domino effect of #metoo”
On Wednesday, September 5, 1990, I was forced into the locked unit of a psychiatric hospital in Miami even though I was not, and had never been, a danger to myself or others. I write about what happened to me and how I ended up a patient at Charter Hospital of Miami in my previous blog post: Psych ward: fraud, greed, and a life interrupted. But the question still lingers, nearly 30 years after the event, Why did this happen?
Continue reading “My schizophrenic psych ward guardian angel”
A group of mental health professionals, calling themselves “Duty to Warn,” (@duty2warn on twitter) has gathered 60,000 signatures from mental health professionals calling for Trump’s removal from office due to serious mental illness. Continue reading “Is Donald Trump giving mental illness a bad name?”
I am traveling back to Florida from Nevada, so have been away from my laptop. But the real reason I haven’t posted here, on my fb page, or worked on my memoir is I am so disheartened by the events of the last few days in Charlottesville that I can’t focus on writing. I guess racism, anti Semitism, and neo Nazism are anxiety and depression triggers for me. And you can throw shame in there. I am so ashamed of the president.
Continue reading “Racism and antisemitism as triggers.”
The muse makes her appearance at 6 am.
But here’s the rub. I am not a morning person. I am only up at this godforsaken hour because the Chihuahua refuses to acclimate from Eastern time to Pacific Daylight Time. Haley gets up each day precisely at six, jumps joyfully on my head and announces, in her own Chihuahua way, that the day has dawned. Dutifully, and because having a Chihuahua banging at your head is not that pleasant, I get up at six to feed and walk her. The muse is also awakened by the 8-lb monster, and it is during those tweams–the fleeting moments between dreaming and waking when you are finishing up a most delicious dream–that she fills my creative mind with the most brilliant of writing insights. Alliteration abounds and cadence croons. Continue reading “This thing isn’t going to write itself.”
Two months ago my husband and I packed our Hyundai sedan with the essentials: my husband’s guitar, his ukulele, his big-ass amp, our Chihuahua Haley, a five-day supply of Haley’s organic homemade (by me) perfectly balanced nutrition-packed food, her favorite toys and water bowl, a customized-for-a-Chihuahua baby stroller (don’t judge), a thermos of frozen broccoli (healthy Chihuahua snacks), and every comforter and blanket we own stacked high over the back seat area so said Chihuahua would have a 360 view of the open road. Continue reading “Memoir of a mental patient blog”