Most people do not want to hang out with older people. That is, the 55+ community. Why is that? To begin with, I suppose it scares them. Most people can't face the grey hair, the lightly folded skin, and all the other little details that follow along with time and experience. The next problem is, it can be hard for many people to relate to someone 20, 30, 40 years older than themselves. The music, clothing, and even speech is very different. Most people in their 60s don't even think to use words like "awesome" or "cool" unless something is beautiful beyond belief or the weather is a bit chilly. And, finally, most people at that stage of their lives are not clubbing and drinking and doing everything in their power to evidence that they are in fact young. If you've read my previous posts, you know how I view young people who drink excessively to prove a point.
But no, most middle-aged people have finally settled into their skin, their age, and their life. Of course, some are sickeningly desperate to stay youthful, but the best older people are letting life lap over them.
This may be why I enjoy the company of people who have crossed that line and entered into a happier new existence. They have the chance to live again in a state where they embrace the world and themselves. They can view their life choices, mistakes, regrets, self-hatred in a open way and realize that it was never worth it. Not to mention, people who are in their 50s and up at this time were young during one of the best eras in history. That is, they were hippies or yuppies, they were soldiers or draft dodgers, they saw Jerry Garcia alive, and they didn't even miss Nixon in office! Lucky.
Of course there is plenty we younger-folk can learn in books. Videos and books and collections, but there is no way of competing with those who experienced all these things for themselves. Sure, in 30 years I can tell kids about 9/11 and, um, what else do we have? Hurricane Sandy? Eh. Spice Girls? Meh. Lollapalooza? Never been. The fact is, I am not ashamed to say that I feel 900% more safe, comfortable, and happy when in a room full of a 60-somethings than I do surrounded by people who are in their 20s, self-conscious, and judging everyone around them. And, yes, old people can be cruel and judgmental, as well. Obviously, there are flaws in my argument. However, I know from my experience, and within the people I associate with, clothing and hairstyles and those silly little things we all do but are ashamed of don't matter as much! They've seen it all before! They recognize that we're all a little weird and gross and embarrassing, but also magnificent.
As we always hear, being old is hard, but it's better than the alternative. The fact is, people in their 80s and 90s are facing the possibility of death everyday. That's the most metal thing a person can do: face death every time you wake up. You look it straight in the face and say, "Well? What's it going to be today?" If you can deal with this, you are definitely worth knowing and hearing.
Maybe it helps that I am not scared of aging. I am extremely enthusiastic about each day making me move forward just a little bit. I am not trying to rush through my young days. I'm not rushing it and taking it for granted, but considering how youthful people in their 50s and 60s can be, I really don't think it'll be so bad. Once upon a time, being 50 was the end of it all. Give up now and surrender everything, you're done. Not any longer! With surgery and medicine and healthy living, 50 is just a drop in the bucket!
Just remember, you'll want to fit in and be loved when you're older, why not learn now how to do aging right? You can be the old grump full of regrets and woes about growing older, or you can accept the inevitably and romantic decline of it all. So, grab an old person and learn what you can. Appreciate what they can offer. You might be surprised how much you enjoy it!
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Saturday, March 7, 2015
Forgot you were there!
Oh, hello, bloggydoo! I almost nearly forgot about you! Not that I haven't been writing, but I haven't been writing long-winded, thought-provoking pieces. Poetry is easier to write on the go than a bloggy post, of course.
There are many things that could be thought about, discussed, and presented here, but since I am quite excited about the latest adventure I've planned, I think I will talk about that. Last night, inspired by exhaustion, lack of enthusiasm, and a little wine, I decided to book a trip in July to 5 states I have never been to before. Those are: Illinois, Arkansas, Michigan, Minnesota, and Wisconsin. Once I have visited these states, I'll have covered about half of the United States in my travels. Pretty exciting, but much left to explore.
Some people think it is insane for a single female to travel alone. Especially one like me who is fairly trusting and much too friendly. However, this does not dissuade or worry me at all. First of all, one only learns from experiences, even the bad ones. Now, I don't plan to be kidnapped and/or murdered, let's get that straight. My confidence in myself and my common sense is above that point, but there is a slight chance that I will have one or two negative encounters whilst making my 22-day Northeastern pilgrimage. There is always a risk of this when living. However, the magical part of it is learning how to overcome these things, how to turn them positive, and how to continue without fear; simply new knowledge and experience under your belt. These are tools, really. Potentially, they are also weapons. Not to mention, if you still think being a female is a disadvantage, I disagree. Of course, being female makes one a target. Yes, it's more likely that a man will attack or harass a woman wandering around on her own, but that does not mean that said woman on her own cannot defend herself; that she can't runscreampunchkickkaratechop. Or, simply avoid a bad situation entirely. It's very possible.
This trip will also be a new experience because I have not yet booked any housing. There's still plenty of time for it; 5 months, just about. This leaves plenty of time to make arrangements and ask around. It's tempting to wait, though. Wait until last minute, or not make any plans at all and see what comes from it. Will I sleep in 24-hour diners? Meet some lovely youths who will take me in? Sleep on a sidewalk? These options are unlikely. Chances are, couchsurfing will pull through or I'll meet up with a long-distance friend, but that thrill is what makes the trip a real adventure. That full sense is what really fulfills that deep craving for adventure! No one ever thinks about it, but what else differentiates humans from other animals? We can find pleasure in our fears. No other animal experiences that! Hippos don't laugh when an alligator misses their butt by inches. A rabbit doesn't get pleasure from his nose just nearly being knocked off by a car flying past. They just don't get that excitement. Humans are fortunate because our survival drive is almost equivalent to our death drive. So, if being human is a source of pride for you, if you love bragging about your 5 bendy fingers and all your humanness, then why not take full advantage of everything we got out of the deal? Be scared, be brave, and heck, be weird while you're at it.
As for money, yes, this is the most fun part of all! Something like that. First of all, thank G-d Megabus exists. With Megabus's help, I will be traveling to these 5 new states for a grand total of $50 for travel expenses. Ah, yes, it's a beautiful thing. I book early and am flexible on dates and times, so it all works out nicely. Most of my trips, which range from 3 hours to 15 hours have come out to a grand total of $1. Beautiful, beautiful Megabus. As for food, I'm sure I'll be picking up little snacks along the way, so even if I want to go to special restaurant or diner to check out the local cuisine, I won't be starving. I can get an appetizer or a side (for what, $5?) and a glass of water and be good to go. There's a chance I'll splurge if I come across a vegan restaurant or something really cool, but these are luxuries, certainly not necessities. As for clothing, I am sure I'll be sink-washing some clothes, wearing some things a few times over, and trying to bring as many simple tees and jeans as possible. Packing light is essential. Lugging a 30 lb. rolling bag around with me is not in the itinerary. Being a little gross and dirty is fine when traveling. No one will judge you, and if they do, you'll never see them again. You're not looking for your true love here! Well, I'm not. If someone doesn't like it, they can step aside. Presumably, you'll also be taking care of basic hygienic needs- soap, shampoo, deodorant, tooth tools.... Don't interpret this as me giving you permission to be nasty. I'm just saying not to get too hung up on being pristine at all times. Sometimes a faucet, soap, and hand towel shower in place of a real shower one morning is not too awful.
At the same time, seriously, don't give up on cleanliness. Especially if you're trying to score housing or a friend and a good time. No one's going to chat up and offer a tour and/or a couch to the smelly dude or dudette from out of town. Don't expect them to, either. If you're going to rely on the kindness of others, you're going to have to make them happy. Don't smell gross is what I'm saying.
This has kind of turned into a "How-to", hasn't it? This wasn't intended to be instructional. Oh, well.
What else is there? Oh, right, of course the temptation to bring my wittle, tiny dog with me is there, but this probably won't happen. First of all, I'm not taking the risk that a bus will reject me because of her, I don't want to be rejected from shelter because of her, and if I want to go in somewhere to eat, they definitely won't let me have her. I'm not going to tie her up outside while I go eat! So, for her safety, for my safety, and for the good of all mankind, my dog is staying safely back home with family members. Don't be stupid, yo. She or he will survive without you. Don't think your dog loves you more than she or he does because you're probably wrong.
This post is becoming quite wordy. I think I will take a break now and maybe come back to this as the trip gets closer and I begin to plan more. Good luck!
There are many things that could be thought about, discussed, and presented here, but since I am quite excited about the latest adventure I've planned, I think I will talk about that. Last night, inspired by exhaustion, lack of enthusiasm, and a little wine, I decided to book a trip in July to 5 states I have never been to before. Those are: Illinois, Arkansas, Michigan, Minnesota, and Wisconsin. Once I have visited these states, I'll have covered about half of the United States in my travels. Pretty exciting, but much left to explore.
Some people think it is insane for a single female to travel alone. Especially one like me who is fairly trusting and much too friendly. However, this does not dissuade or worry me at all. First of all, one only learns from experiences, even the bad ones. Now, I don't plan to be kidnapped and/or murdered, let's get that straight. My confidence in myself and my common sense is above that point, but there is a slight chance that I will have one or two negative encounters whilst making my 22-day Northeastern pilgrimage. There is always a risk of this when living. However, the magical part of it is learning how to overcome these things, how to turn them positive, and how to continue without fear; simply new knowledge and experience under your belt. These are tools, really. Potentially, they are also weapons. Not to mention, if you still think being a female is a disadvantage, I disagree. Of course, being female makes one a target. Yes, it's more likely that a man will attack or harass a woman wandering around on her own, but that does not mean that said woman on her own cannot defend herself; that she can't runscreampunchkickkaratechop. Or, simply avoid a bad situation entirely. It's very possible.
This trip will also be a new experience because I have not yet booked any housing. There's still plenty of time for it; 5 months, just about. This leaves plenty of time to make arrangements and ask around. It's tempting to wait, though. Wait until last minute, or not make any plans at all and see what comes from it. Will I sleep in 24-hour diners? Meet some lovely youths who will take me in? Sleep on a sidewalk? These options are unlikely. Chances are, couchsurfing will pull through or I'll meet up with a long-distance friend, but that thrill is what makes the trip a real adventure. That full sense is what really fulfills that deep craving for adventure! No one ever thinks about it, but what else differentiates humans from other animals? We can find pleasure in our fears. No other animal experiences that! Hippos don't laugh when an alligator misses their butt by inches. A rabbit doesn't get pleasure from his nose just nearly being knocked off by a car flying past. They just don't get that excitement. Humans are fortunate because our survival drive is almost equivalent to our death drive. So, if being human is a source of pride for you, if you love bragging about your 5 bendy fingers and all your humanness, then why not take full advantage of everything we got out of the deal? Be scared, be brave, and heck, be weird while you're at it.
As for money, yes, this is the most fun part of all! Something like that. First of all, thank G-d Megabus exists. With Megabus's help, I will be traveling to these 5 new states for a grand total of $50 for travel expenses. Ah, yes, it's a beautiful thing. I book early and am flexible on dates and times, so it all works out nicely. Most of my trips, which range from 3 hours to 15 hours have come out to a grand total of $1. Beautiful, beautiful Megabus. As for food, I'm sure I'll be picking up little snacks along the way, so even if I want to go to special restaurant or diner to check out the local cuisine, I won't be starving. I can get an appetizer or a side (for what, $5?) and a glass of water and be good to go. There's a chance I'll splurge if I come across a vegan restaurant or something really cool, but these are luxuries, certainly not necessities. As for clothing, I am sure I'll be sink-washing some clothes, wearing some things a few times over, and trying to bring as many simple tees and jeans as possible. Packing light is essential. Lugging a 30 lb. rolling bag around with me is not in the itinerary. Being a little gross and dirty is fine when traveling. No one will judge you, and if they do, you'll never see them again. You're not looking for your true love here! Well, I'm not. If someone doesn't like it, they can step aside. Presumably, you'll also be taking care of basic hygienic needs- soap, shampoo, deodorant, tooth tools.... Don't interpret this as me giving you permission to be nasty. I'm just saying not to get too hung up on being pristine at all times. Sometimes a faucet, soap, and hand towel shower in place of a real shower one morning is not too awful.
At the same time, seriously, don't give up on cleanliness. Especially if you're trying to score housing or a friend and a good time. No one's going to chat up and offer a tour and/or a couch to the smelly dude or dudette from out of town. Don't expect them to, either. If you're going to rely on the kindness of others, you're going to have to make them happy. Don't smell gross is what I'm saying.
This has kind of turned into a "How-to", hasn't it? This wasn't intended to be instructional. Oh, well.
What else is there? Oh, right, of course the temptation to bring my wittle, tiny dog with me is there, but this probably won't happen. First of all, I'm not taking the risk that a bus will reject me because of her, I don't want to be rejected from shelter because of her, and if I want to go in somewhere to eat, they definitely won't let me have her. I'm not going to tie her up outside while I go eat! So, for her safety, for my safety, and for the good of all mankind, my dog is staying safely back home with family members. Don't be stupid, yo. She or he will survive without you. Don't think your dog loves you more than she or he does because you're probably wrong.
This post is becoming quite wordy. I think I will take a break now and maybe come back to this as the trip gets closer and I begin to plan more. Good luck!
Saturday, January 31, 2015
This is not about they or those who take it upon themselves to define them. This is not even about your goal to define yourself. What I am talking about... what I am going to talk about is: what a person is. Yes, I will actively and consciously choose to end that sentence with "is".
There is a moment in every individual's life that defines who they will be, and how they will sum up their existence. For many, their sickness or disease will become who they are. For others, their career, worth, or success will do this. In others, friends, family, and self-love can convey their beingness. Or, may I even go far as to say, this will be their haecceity. For in the end, a "this" or a "that" is all we are. An object with thought and action. Considering the advancements in technology, to turn "this" into "you" or "I" is not a farfetched task.
Nonetheless, these people will be rather offended if you are to turn around and say, "What are you?" This is a great fear of the troglodyte; lest you forget that our beginnings were meager and shallow. While I would not say we are entirely made up of those we evolved from, there is evidence provided by this evolution that we can easily progress. Digress, for that matter.
To return to the statement, "[T]heir sickness or disease will become who they are"-- this is not to be fooled around with.
----I am diabetes. I am cancer. I am depression. I am autism. ----
These are barriers from a reality. The truth that is scarier than any disorder. There is no question that these will all be obstacles. They will prevent some things, explain other things. They often become light sabers in the paws of filthy inauthenticity. Not to the fault of the Jedi wielding his or her weapon, but to blame those who ("who" implying humanness; something questionable at all times) armed he or she in need as a defense to any criticism, fear, or challenge.
The same as we believe we can chain and conquer .... I lost my train of thought.
It simply seems to me that we have all been trained and given negative reinforcement in order to achieve less- based on our excuses (either externally or self-implanted.) We were then forced to live to a lower standard because of a fear that we will reach the border of our limit and be given a shock from the collar around our necks.
Did that sound revolutionary and slightly conspiracy theorist nuttist to you?
I hope so.
Here is a fine example of a moment of mania. If you've experienced manic episodes, you can sense it. Quickly written, poorly formulated... sometimes just jumbles of words thrown together because they sound poetic. I almost think that most of the beat poets were living in one long mania. Ginsberg and Kerouac... heck, even Pollock. The twist here is- these gentleman didn't know, nor did they care why they did as they did. They don't care why they offended and astonished people; why no one understood their art at the time; why they were unlike the majority.... It did not matter, they simply used their "flaws" to create and be better than the sad, boring majority.
It was complete release that set these men apart. As we can see in other artists. The ones who changed the world. Emily Dickinson was agoraphobic, so she wrote. Some were addicts, some were traumatized. They had undiagnosed, uncared about, untouched rawness and therefore, untainted talent. It's so extraordinary. It's beyond what the average human can comprehend.
There is a moment in every individual's life that defines who they will be, and how they will sum up their existence. For many, their sickness or disease will become who they are. For others, their career, worth, or success will do this. In others, friends, family, and self-love can convey their beingness. Or, may I even go far as to say, this will be their haecceity. For in the end, a "this" or a "that" is all we are. An object with thought and action. Considering the advancements in technology, to turn "this" into "you" or "I" is not a farfetched task.
Nonetheless, these people will be rather offended if you are to turn around and say, "What are you?" This is a great fear of the troglodyte; lest you forget that our beginnings were meager and shallow. While I would not say we are entirely made up of those we evolved from, there is evidence provided by this evolution that we can easily progress. Digress, for that matter.
To return to the statement, "[T]heir sickness or disease will become who they are"-- this is not to be fooled around with.
----I am diabetes. I am cancer. I am depression. I am autism. ----
These are barriers from a reality. The truth that is scarier than any disorder. There is no question that these will all be obstacles. They will prevent some things, explain other things. They often become light sabers in the paws of filthy inauthenticity. Not to the fault of the Jedi wielding his or her weapon, but to blame those who ("who" implying humanness; something questionable at all times) armed he or she in need as a defense to any criticism, fear, or challenge.
The same as we believe we can chain and conquer .... I lost my train of thought.
It simply seems to me that we have all been trained and given negative reinforcement in order to achieve less- based on our excuses (either externally or self-implanted.) We were then forced to live to a lower standard because of a fear that we will reach the border of our limit and be given a shock from the collar around our necks.
Did that sound revolutionary and slightly conspiracy theorist nuttist to you?
I hope so.
Here is a fine example of a moment of mania. If you've experienced manic episodes, you can sense it. Quickly written, poorly formulated... sometimes just jumbles of words thrown together because they sound poetic. I almost think that most of the beat poets were living in one long mania. Ginsberg and Kerouac... heck, even Pollock. The twist here is- these gentleman didn't know, nor did they care why they did as they did. They don't care why they offended and astonished people; why no one understood their art at the time; why they were unlike the majority.... It did not matter, they simply used their "flaws" to create and be better than the sad, boring majority.
It was complete release that set these men apart. As we can see in other artists. The ones who changed the world. Emily Dickinson was agoraphobic, so she wrote. Some were addicts, some were traumatized. They had undiagnosed, uncared about, untouched rawness and therefore, untainted talent. It's so extraordinary. It's beyond what the average human can comprehend.
Monday, January 19, 2015
Indo-Israel
Most people who know me, know I want to go to India more than anything in this world. I have wanted to go to India for as long as I can remember, even when I thought India was occupied by Native Americans. Children are so stupid.... Yes, I also wanted terribly to go to Australia, but that was because of the animals they have there. India was another story. I have no idea why I wanted to go there when I was 5 or 8 or 15 or now. I just NEED to visit that portion of Asia. Visiting Nepal and Thailand are also on the list, but they are not quite as high on the "To Do" list.
One thing most people don't know about India (actually, I don't think most people actually know much about India), is that it has quite positive relations with Israel. There are very few countries that can say that! I think it's quite fantastic. Part of this may be because Indians have a shared disdain for Muslim countries. More specifically, both countries are sick of Muslim-related terrorism. Both have fought off terrorism most of their existence, and continue to hold certain... opinions on the Muslim faith. More so, some of its most devout followers.Not they I personally have any qualms with Muslims, but I can see why some folks in India or Israel may have their concerns. Basically, I'm just saying it's a commonality between the two countries, and this makes them allies.
That is not all that bonds the two countries, though. The two countries also have an extensive economic, military, and strategic relationship. The two countries connect through military equipment and partnership. This means, these two countries actually train together. The U.S. trains with Israel, as well, but Israelis are *not* impressed with the American soldiers and their equipment. From what I've seen and been told, I don't blame them. Apparently, however, Mahatma Ghandi wasn't completely onboard with the creation of Israel. This was because he did not like the idea of a country being created based on a religion. Considering that most of the countries in the world are Catholic or Muslim, I hope it occurred to him that this was a silly concern. Although, I can't disagree with his point. Most other following leaders and influential people of India were totally into the Israel scene. They celebrated it, even.
India recognized Israel as a nation in 1950, so they were kind of ahead of the game. As a matter of fact, in 1954, Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru said he would not "be a party to a resolution which stated that the creation of Israel was a violation of international law". He also wrote a letter to Frances Gunther expressing his support for the general Jewish behaviour in Palestine. How 'bout them apples?
India has been very kind to Israel, and visa versa. They make a good team. As a matter of fact, according to various tourist websites, about 40,000 Israelis visit India each year. Considering their low population, that's a pretty good number! There was also a Jewish-Hindu interfaith leadership summit in New Delhi in 2007. The chief Rabbi of Israel and Swami Dayanand Saraswati attended. What they had to say was that, "[t]he Jewish and Hindu communities are committed to the ancient traditions of Judaism and Hindu dharma respectively, and have both, in their own ways, gone through the painful experiences of persecution, oppression and destruction."[ Mertzger quoted:"For thousands of years we have marched on parallel causes and have now built bridges of cooperation between the two religions. Jews have lived in India for over 2000 years and have never been discriminated against. This is something unparalleled in human history".
At this point, India is pushing more and more for Israel, particularly as they view the Muslim community in a different light. Ties between Jerusalem and Delhi are only getting closer and more positive, and therefore, India is actually considering changing its pro-Palestinian stance at the UN, as you can read further into at: India may change stance at UN
The two countries have really begun to rely on one another for military action and protection, as well as on a more personal level of relations and camaraderie. This is wonderful news, I think, and I can't wait to see what comes of this bond over time. This connection only gives me further reason and desire to visit India. I think it will be a great relationship for years to come.
One thing most people don't know about India (actually, I don't think most people actually know much about India), is that it has quite positive relations with Israel. There are very few countries that can say that! I think it's quite fantastic. Part of this may be because Indians have a shared disdain for Muslim countries. More specifically, both countries are sick of Muslim-related terrorism. Both have fought off terrorism most of their existence, and continue to hold certain... opinions on the Muslim faith. More so, some of its most devout followers.Not they I personally have any qualms with Muslims, but I can see why some folks in India or Israel may have their concerns. Basically, I'm just saying it's a commonality between the two countries, and this makes them allies.
That is not all that bonds the two countries, though. The two countries also have an extensive economic, military, and strategic relationship. The two countries connect through military equipment and partnership. This means, these two countries actually train together. The U.S. trains with Israel, as well, but Israelis are *not* impressed with the American soldiers and their equipment. From what I've seen and been told, I don't blame them. Apparently, however, Mahatma Ghandi wasn't completely onboard with the creation of Israel. This was because he did not like the idea of a country being created based on a religion. Considering that most of the countries in the world are Catholic or Muslim, I hope it occurred to him that this was a silly concern. Although, I can't disagree with his point. Most other following leaders and influential people of India were totally into the Israel scene. They celebrated it, even.
India recognized Israel as a nation in 1950, so they were kind of ahead of the game. As a matter of fact, in 1954, Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru said he would not "be a party to a resolution which stated that the creation of Israel was a violation of international law". He also wrote a letter to Frances Gunther expressing his support for the general Jewish behaviour in Palestine. How 'bout them apples?
India has been very kind to Israel, and visa versa. They make a good team. As a matter of fact, according to various tourist websites, about 40,000 Israelis visit India each year. Considering their low population, that's a pretty good number! There was also a Jewish-Hindu interfaith leadership summit in New Delhi in 2007. The chief Rabbi of Israel and Swami Dayanand Saraswati attended. What they had to say was that, "[t]he Jewish and Hindu communities are committed to the ancient traditions of Judaism and Hindu dharma respectively, and have both, in their own ways, gone through the painful experiences of persecution, oppression and destruction."[ Mertzger quoted:"For thousands of years we have marched on parallel causes and have now built bridges of cooperation between the two religions. Jews have lived in India for over 2000 years and have never been discriminated against. This is something unparalleled in human history".
At this point, India is pushing more and more for Israel, particularly as they view the Muslim community in a different light. Ties between Jerusalem and Delhi are only getting closer and more positive, and therefore, India is actually considering changing its pro-Palestinian stance at the UN, as you can read further into at: India may change stance at UN
The two countries have really begun to rely on one another for military action and protection, as well as on a more personal level of relations and camaraderie. This is wonderful news, I think, and I can't wait to see what comes of this bond over time. This connection only gives me further reason and desire to visit India. I think it will be a great relationship for years to come.
Friday, January 9, 2015
Zara: The Princess of Everything
Zara was always told that she was the Princess of Everything.
From the day she was born, her grandmother loved her unconditionally,
like no one else ever would. She reminded Zara constantly that she
was the Princess of Everything and she could do anything she wanted
to do, be anything she wanted to be, and have anything she wanted to
have. Her grandmother believed it, too!
When Zara was a little Princess, she believed this. Although most people weren't very nice to Zara, she stayed calm, smiled, and remembered that she was the Princess of Everything. It wasn't always easy staying cheerful. Sometimes people hurt her. Both, physically and verbally. It didn't matter, though, because she knew that one day she'd have everything she ever wanted.
Also, since Zara knew she was the Princess of Everything, she felt she was also responsible for taking care of everything. This meant that she had to make everyone as happy as she was. She did what she could to bring smiles, food, and love wherever she went. If anyone needed help, she knew it was her job to help them.
As Zara got older, she began to notice that no one else thought she was the Princess of Everything. Her grandmother still believed it, but Zara felt she didn't have anything. She didn't have all the toys or all the books or all the puppies, not even all the stickers. Not to mention, even when she helped people, they didn't seem to care. She knew this couldn't be how the Princess of Everything should feel. Her grandmother kept reminding her that she was indeed the Princess of Everything. She told her that even though it would take lots of time and lots of tears, one day, everything would belong to her. With this in mind, she fought on like a trooper. No matter how angry or sad she got, she kept taking care of everything, making sure everything was okay.
When Zara got very sick one day, no one came to make her better. She didn't understand. When Tommy was sick, she got him soup. When Tulip was sad, she hugged her. When Danny was scared, she protected him. Now that she was sick, no one came to help her. Finally, her grandmother came to make her better. Zara asked her grandmother what she did wrong. She knew she must be such a bad Princess that no one wanted to help her when she was sick. Her grandmother reminded her that as the Princess of Everything, she would sometimes have to be a little lonely. The boys and girls who weren't princes and princesses didn't care as much as she did. She hugged her Princess and told her it would be okay, in a few days she'd get all better, and one day she would have everything.
Zara didn't get better, though. As a matter of fact, Zara got worse. Much worse. When she woke up the next time, a part of her heart had fallen off and turned black. Zara jumped up and grabbed the piece of heart from the floor. Her breathing got faster and she started to sweat. She did the one thing she knew to do when she was scared, she called her grandmother. When her grandmother answered, she sounded different. Her grandmother told her she too was sick. However, instead of losing a piece of her heart, she lost a piece of her stomach. A very large piece of her stomach had fallen to the floor and turned black overnight. This terrified Zara. Something like this had never happened before! In the past, she had control over everything. She could make good things happen so easily. When she tried to fix her grandmother's stomach, it didn't work. Just like the piece of her own heart, it wouldn't glue back on.
Her grandmother was also upset, but reminded Zara that she was the Princess of Everything. That meant that even if her grandmother's entire stomach fell apart, Zara would still be a princess, she could still have everything and be okay.
For the first time ever, her grandmother's words did not comfort her. Zara couldn't find the strength to smile anymore. Each day, as more of her heart fell off, she felt more and more sad. She kept helping everyone, but she found it harder to smile, harder to laugh, harder to do things she used to love to do. Instead, she stayed inside all day. She didn't want to eat cookies or sing songs. She didn't want to talk to friends or play with puppies. All she wanted to do was sleep and, sometimes... sometimes she would even cry.
One day, when Zara's heart was nearly completely gone, she decided to visit her grandmother. She was ready to feel better and take over as the Princess of Everything finally. As Zara was going to visit her grandmother at the doctor, she came across a doorway. The door was white and brightly lit. It didn't seem to be attached to anything. This confused Zara, but it was so beautiful that she couldn't resist the urge to grab the handle, which was pleasantly cold, and pull the door open. On the other side, it was so bright that she couldn't see anything. It looked amazing, though! She knew what she had to do. Even though it was a risk, she wanted nothing more than to enter the door and find out what was on the other side. Just in case anything went wrong, she took the juicy, ripe plum from her pocket and ate it up.
When she lifted her foot, she ended up scratching her ankle on a poorly-placed vine. Although the cut bled a bit, she ignored it, and entered the door, with no doubts or fears. The last noise she made while on the grassy ground was a gasp.
When Zara was a little Princess, she believed this. Although most people weren't very nice to Zara, she stayed calm, smiled, and remembered that she was the Princess of Everything. It wasn't always easy staying cheerful. Sometimes people hurt her. Both, physically and verbally. It didn't matter, though, because she knew that one day she'd have everything she ever wanted.
Also, since Zara knew she was the Princess of Everything, she felt she was also responsible for taking care of everything. This meant that she had to make everyone as happy as she was. She did what she could to bring smiles, food, and love wherever she went. If anyone needed help, she knew it was her job to help them.
As Zara got older, she began to notice that no one else thought she was the Princess of Everything. Her grandmother still believed it, but Zara felt she didn't have anything. She didn't have all the toys or all the books or all the puppies, not even all the stickers. Not to mention, even when she helped people, they didn't seem to care. She knew this couldn't be how the Princess of Everything should feel. Her grandmother kept reminding her that she was indeed the Princess of Everything. She told her that even though it would take lots of time and lots of tears, one day, everything would belong to her. With this in mind, she fought on like a trooper. No matter how angry or sad she got, she kept taking care of everything, making sure everything was okay.
When Zara got very sick one day, no one came to make her better. She didn't understand. When Tommy was sick, she got him soup. When Tulip was sad, she hugged her. When Danny was scared, she protected him. Now that she was sick, no one came to help her. Finally, her grandmother came to make her better. Zara asked her grandmother what she did wrong. She knew she must be such a bad Princess that no one wanted to help her when she was sick. Her grandmother reminded her that as the Princess of Everything, she would sometimes have to be a little lonely. The boys and girls who weren't princes and princesses didn't care as much as she did. She hugged her Princess and told her it would be okay, in a few days she'd get all better, and one day she would have everything.
Zara didn't get better, though. As a matter of fact, Zara got worse. Much worse. When she woke up the next time, a part of her heart had fallen off and turned black. Zara jumped up and grabbed the piece of heart from the floor. Her breathing got faster and she started to sweat. She did the one thing she knew to do when she was scared, she called her grandmother. When her grandmother answered, she sounded different. Her grandmother told her she too was sick. However, instead of losing a piece of her heart, she lost a piece of her stomach. A very large piece of her stomach had fallen to the floor and turned black overnight. This terrified Zara. Something like this had never happened before! In the past, she had control over everything. She could make good things happen so easily. When she tried to fix her grandmother's stomach, it didn't work. Just like the piece of her own heart, it wouldn't glue back on.
Her grandmother was also upset, but reminded Zara that she was the Princess of Everything. That meant that even if her grandmother's entire stomach fell apart, Zara would still be a princess, she could still have everything and be okay.
For the first time ever, her grandmother's words did not comfort her. Zara couldn't find the strength to smile anymore. Each day, as more of her heart fell off, she felt more and more sad. She kept helping everyone, but she found it harder to smile, harder to laugh, harder to do things she used to love to do. Instead, she stayed inside all day. She didn't want to eat cookies or sing songs. She didn't want to talk to friends or play with puppies. All she wanted to do was sleep and, sometimes... sometimes she would even cry.
One day, when Zara's heart was nearly completely gone, she decided to visit her grandmother. She was ready to feel better and take over as the Princess of Everything finally. As Zara was going to visit her grandmother at the doctor, she came across a doorway. The door was white and brightly lit. It didn't seem to be attached to anything. This confused Zara, but it was so beautiful that she couldn't resist the urge to grab the handle, which was pleasantly cold, and pull the door open. On the other side, it was so bright that she couldn't see anything. It looked amazing, though! She knew what she had to do. Even though it was a risk, she wanted nothing more than to enter the door and find out what was on the other side. Just in case anything went wrong, she took the juicy, ripe plum from her pocket and ate it up.
When she lifted her foot, she ended up scratching her ankle on a poorly-placed vine. Although the cut bled a bit, she ignored it, and entered the door, with no doubts or fears. The last noise she made while on the grassy ground was a gasp.
Monday, December 29, 2014
Working the detox shift!
My latest and newest and fanciest job role is as a volunteer/intern/thingymadoo at a hospital in Brooklyn. I am working in the detox inpatient ward. To cover the basics, my co-workers are absolutely lovely, my atmosphere is grand, and the patients are at their very best. That is, considering the horrors of withdrawal, I have been very impressed with their smiles and decency. More amazing than that is the types of people I've met. These patients are coming into the E.R. of the hospital, are then interviewed, and then, depending on their rating on the "You an addict, son!" scale, they are then sent to outpatient services, inpatient services, or sent out to stop whining, get a cab, and go home.
Now, I want you to imagine the type of person you would meet at an inpatient detox center. Be honest. First thoughts. Are they old? Young? Professional? Extroverted? Depressed? Mean? Sickly? What do you see? Who is this person?
You can erase that person. Well, maybe not.... Most likely, however, the person you just drew up is unlike anyone I have met in the hospital yet. Not to say that whoever you viewed is not the more typical type or overall, more commonly seen in these settings. The surprise to me was how many of these people were NOT who I was expecting, nor who you would expect, I am sure. I've seen people in their 30s, 70s, 50s. Women, men, muscular, heavy, thin, blonde, bald, tattooed, with glasses. Some homeless, some with respectable jobs. Others don't want to get well. They just came to detox for a place to sleep and free food. Although, the fella who did this was the one who saw me watering the plants one day and the next day said, "I watered them for you today, flower girl."
They all had one thing in common, though. They all wanted to call their mother. Many of them relapsed because their mother was sick. Many are addicts because their parents were addicts, or because their kids are addicts. Others because they became addicted to prescribed medication or they were stressed or lonely or depressed. I met a chef, an introverted intellectual, a mother whose daughter graduated from John Jay.... There have also been many couples. They detox together, they relapse together. As one co-worker said, "They're starting to call us 'Sandals Detox Center' because of all the couples who are starting to come."
Some of these individuals only drink, only do benzos, only do opiates. Some think smoking cigarettes is awful. Though, cigarettes aren't allowed, anyway. Most of these people have been hospitalized or detoxed or in a special community for addicts before. Others are in for the first time and are very nervous and scared of being judged. They're not bad people. They know they're not bad people. And they want everyone else to know their not bad people. Some of them are just better at showing it than others. We don't know what they've been through, where they've been, what they've seen.
There's no real point to this blogamadoo.... I just wanted to share the experience, the stories. This is just a beginner's tale that I may add future stories and facts to for your benefit, and my own. We can learn about these people, their illness, and the path to a cure (or treatment) together.
Not to mention, the reminder that it is indeed a disease. An illness. A sickness. As another co-worker explained, just like any other disease, we have medication and upkeep. Sometimes we forget to take out medication and take care of ourselves, so our body warns us. Seizures, blackouts, shaking, hangovers, quivers, and various other symptoms remind these people that they are unwell. However, fortunately, they have some control over this sickness. They can get better and overcome it. As a matter of fact, at least half the staff are ex-addicts of one sort or another. They got better, they made a life for themselves. Judgment and cruelty are not cures. My view is: help these people, be part of the solution, or get out of the way.
Now, I want you to imagine the type of person you would meet at an inpatient detox center. Be honest. First thoughts. Are they old? Young? Professional? Extroverted? Depressed? Mean? Sickly? What do you see? Who is this person?
You can erase that person. Well, maybe not.... Most likely, however, the person you just drew up is unlike anyone I have met in the hospital yet. Not to say that whoever you viewed is not the more typical type or overall, more commonly seen in these settings. The surprise to me was how many of these people were NOT who I was expecting, nor who you would expect, I am sure. I've seen people in their 30s, 70s, 50s. Women, men, muscular, heavy, thin, blonde, bald, tattooed, with glasses. Some homeless, some with respectable jobs. Others don't want to get well. They just came to detox for a place to sleep and free food. Although, the fella who did this was the one who saw me watering the plants one day and the next day said, "I watered them for you today, flower girl."
They all had one thing in common, though. They all wanted to call their mother. Many of them relapsed because their mother was sick. Many are addicts because their parents were addicts, or because their kids are addicts. Others because they became addicted to prescribed medication or they were stressed or lonely or depressed. I met a chef, an introverted intellectual, a mother whose daughter graduated from John Jay.... There have also been many couples. They detox together, they relapse together. As one co-worker said, "They're starting to call us 'Sandals Detox Center' because of all the couples who are starting to come."
Some of these individuals only drink, only do benzos, only do opiates. Some think smoking cigarettes is awful. Though, cigarettes aren't allowed, anyway. Most of these people have been hospitalized or detoxed or in a special community for addicts before. Others are in for the first time and are very nervous and scared of being judged. They're not bad people. They know they're not bad people. And they want everyone else to know their not bad people. Some of them are just better at showing it than others. We don't know what they've been through, where they've been, what they've seen.
There's no real point to this blogamadoo.... I just wanted to share the experience, the stories. This is just a beginner's tale that I may add future stories and facts to for your benefit, and my own. We can learn about these people, their illness, and the path to a cure (or treatment) together.
Not to mention, the reminder that it is indeed a disease. An illness. A sickness. As another co-worker explained, just like any other disease, we have medication and upkeep. Sometimes we forget to take out medication and take care of ourselves, so our body warns us. Seizures, blackouts, shaking, hangovers, quivers, and various other symptoms remind these people that they are unwell. However, fortunately, they have some control over this sickness. They can get better and overcome it. As a matter of fact, at least half the staff are ex-addicts of one sort or another. They got better, they made a life for themselves. Judgment and cruelty are not cures. My view is: help these people, be part of the solution, or get out of the way.
Monday, December 8, 2014
The Great Irony
What do you say when a friend texts you late at night, "I want to die." ?
You ask, "Do you really want to die? Should I be concerned?"
"Of course I do. My life is f*cked up"
This conversation continues. You ask several times, "Do you plan on harming yourself? If so, how do you plan on doing it?"
Followed up with, "Do you plan to be alive tomorrow?"
He responds with vague answers; not truly answering, or just changing the topic altogether. He seems serious.
You put aside the books you were studying. You minimize the document you were just working on titled, "What is a counselor?" and you open a webpage with a list of suicide hotlines.
---------------
This means you have put aside your education, your future career and livelihood to help someone. Not a client or a patient, possibly not even someone you consider a friend. Many professionals in the mental health field would say that it is not your job. That the person should contact someone and you should focus on your own stuff. However, that wouldn't be their advice if the person texting you were willing to pay, would it? Of course, if you don't have a license, that would be illegal... but you're getting off topic. Point being- what do you do? No compassionate and decent human being would just go back to their schoolwork after hearing something like that.
This is the sort of conflict anyone with empathy and patience has encountered. No doubt, the older one gets, the more calls of desperation you are likely to receive. And the answer only lies in the person in the moment facing the situation. There is no wrong answer (between speaking to them or pawning them off to someone else), from a professional and ethical aspect, this is entirely subjective. It depends on how capable you view yourself to be, what you believe your role is in this person's life, and how you think you will respond in the worst case scenario. If things go downhill, there is no good solution or outcome. Most people in this position will find a way to blame themselves, no matter how much time and effort they devoted to the person at risk, or how many resources they recommended. On the other hand, if things turn out being okay, you need to learn to take credit. Not necessarily dancing around singing, "I saved a life! I am the best person who has ever lived!!" but... just taking a moment to recognize the good deed, the skills you have, and an appreciation for yourself. This is the part most people forget to celebrate. Saving a life is not minor feat. Many (if not all) of the biggest names in the mental health field have experienced losing a patient or client. Win or lose, it will be traumatic. So, no matter what the outcome, self-care and even therapy may be necessary.
Of course, sometimes you may also get impatient with the people you are dealing with. Oftentimes, self-harming people will ask for advice, then tell you everything you advise is stupid and wrong. This can be so, so very frustrating. Or they make the horrible statement, "I have the hardest life ever." Pretty sure you're not from Sudan or Syria, dude! Keep in mind, however, that to them, their life is THEIR hardest life ever. This makes it a lot easier to empathize. It's no competition, but everyone who is hurting is looking for a reason. An explanation for the bad things and the pain, even if there is nothing there to blame. Sometimes you just have to tell them, "Yep. Life is hard."
Validation is way more comforting than hearing, "No! Life is good! Stop being sad, chum!" I can say from firsthand experience that when you're bummed out, being told you're wrong and that everything is sunshine and lollipops, you just want to stab yourself (and the other person) in the vulva and watch the knife come out through the larynx. Positivity is not always the answer. While hope for the future is nice, it's not always realistic. Feeling understood and less alone is the goal. Of course, maybe don't convince them that there is absolutely no reason to hold on and they'll only become more miserable throughout life. That might not be the way to go, either. Let's aim for a healthy middle, shall we? Life is awful, but we're all miserable together. So, we aim to enrich other people's lives and we try to make our own lives as decent as possible. Being dead is super boring, anyway. If nothing or no one else, you, you who is giving them your love and care, you'll be there and you want Mr. Sadface dude or lady to improve your life. You probably benefit from this person being alive in some way (accept it- we're all selfish jerks), so let them know that. Maybe they're working on a project that you want to see completed, or they owe you money (but they have all the time they need to pay you back) or... whatever. If it's someone you've yet to meet in person, all the better! Try, "My goal right now is go to _____ with you!"
Keeping someone alive is NOT easy. Keeping them from harming themselves is an exhausting, long-term process. So, I think common sense is key. Whether you're up for the task or not is the first step. Don't take it on because it's the "right thing to do" or it's a new challenge. That's stupid. Don't be stupid. If you KNOW you can handle it on all levels, and the person at risk refuses to contact anyone else, then giving it your all is worthwhile. Of course, there should still be 911 on the other line. It shouldn't be all on you, anyway. Don't tell the whole neighbourhood and have a suicide block party... no. That might be fun, but probably not helpful. Just contact a close friend or family member (of yours AND of Mr. Sadface) and see what wisdom they can offer or if there's anyone they think you should talk to that may help. Again, that's if Mr. Sadface won't contact a hotline or anyone. A professional is ideal. You may feel like you're betraying this person's trust or they may get angry at you, but... get over it. Priorities. His/her life or his/her trust?
So... that's all my suicidey advice for today! I hope you don't run into a situation like this anytime soon, but now you're fairly prepared if so.
You ask, "Do you really want to die? Should I be concerned?"
"Of course I do. My life is f*cked up"
This conversation continues. You ask several times, "Do you plan on harming yourself? If so, how do you plan on doing it?"
Followed up with, "Do you plan to be alive tomorrow?"
He responds with vague answers; not truly answering, or just changing the topic altogether. He seems serious.
You put aside the books you were studying. You minimize the document you were just working on titled, "What is a counselor?" and you open a webpage with a list of suicide hotlines.
---------------
This means you have put aside your education, your future career and livelihood to help someone. Not a client or a patient, possibly not even someone you consider a friend. Many professionals in the mental health field would say that it is not your job. That the person should contact someone and you should focus on your own stuff. However, that wouldn't be their advice if the person texting you were willing to pay, would it? Of course, if you don't have a license, that would be illegal... but you're getting off topic. Point being- what do you do? No compassionate and decent human being would just go back to their schoolwork after hearing something like that.
This is the sort of conflict anyone with empathy and patience has encountered. No doubt, the older one gets, the more calls of desperation you are likely to receive. And the answer only lies in the person in the moment facing the situation. There is no wrong answer (between speaking to them or pawning them off to someone else), from a professional and ethical aspect, this is entirely subjective. It depends on how capable you view yourself to be, what you believe your role is in this person's life, and how you think you will respond in the worst case scenario. If things go downhill, there is no good solution or outcome. Most people in this position will find a way to blame themselves, no matter how much time and effort they devoted to the person at risk, or how many resources they recommended. On the other hand, if things turn out being okay, you need to learn to take credit. Not necessarily dancing around singing, "I saved a life! I am the best person who has ever lived!!" but... just taking a moment to recognize the good deed, the skills you have, and an appreciation for yourself. This is the part most people forget to celebrate. Saving a life is not minor feat. Many (if not all) of the biggest names in the mental health field have experienced losing a patient or client. Win or lose, it will be traumatic. So, no matter what the outcome, self-care and even therapy may be necessary.
Of course, sometimes you may also get impatient with the people you are dealing with. Oftentimes, self-harming people will ask for advice, then tell you everything you advise is stupid and wrong. This can be so, so very frustrating. Or they make the horrible statement, "I have the hardest life ever." Pretty sure you're not from Sudan or Syria, dude! Keep in mind, however, that to them, their life is THEIR hardest life ever. This makes it a lot easier to empathize. It's no competition, but everyone who is hurting is looking for a reason. An explanation for the bad things and the pain, even if there is nothing there to blame. Sometimes you just have to tell them, "Yep. Life is hard."
Validation is way more comforting than hearing, "No! Life is good! Stop being sad, chum!" I can say from firsthand experience that when you're bummed out, being told you're wrong and that everything is sunshine and lollipops, you just want to stab yourself (and the other person) in the vulva and watch the knife come out through the larynx. Positivity is not always the answer. While hope for the future is nice, it's not always realistic. Feeling understood and less alone is the goal. Of course, maybe don't convince them that there is absolutely no reason to hold on and they'll only become more miserable throughout life. That might not be the way to go, either. Let's aim for a healthy middle, shall we? Life is awful, but we're all miserable together. So, we aim to enrich other people's lives and we try to make our own lives as decent as possible. Being dead is super boring, anyway. If nothing or no one else, you, you who is giving them your love and care, you'll be there and you want Mr. Sadface dude or lady to improve your life. You probably benefit from this person being alive in some way (accept it- we're all selfish jerks), so let them know that. Maybe they're working on a project that you want to see completed, or they owe you money (but they have all the time they need to pay you back) or... whatever. If it's someone you've yet to meet in person, all the better! Try, "My goal right now is go to _____ with you!"
Keeping someone alive is NOT easy. Keeping them from harming themselves is an exhausting, long-term process. So, I think common sense is key. Whether you're up for the task or not is the first step. Don't take it on because it's the "right thing to do" or it's a new challenge. That's stupid. Don't be stupid. If you KNOW you can handle it on all levels, and the person at risk refuses to contact anyone else, then giving it your all is worthwhile. Of course, there should still be 911 on the other line. It shouldn't be all on you, anyway. Don't tell the whole neighbourhood and have a suicide block party... no. That might be fun, but probably not helpful. Just contact a close friend or family member (of yours AND of Mr. Sadface) and see what wisdom they can offer or if there's anyone they think you should talk to that may help. Again, that's if Mr. Sadface won't contact a hotline or anyone. A professional is ideal. You may feel like you're betraying this person's trust or they may get angry at you, but... get over it. Priorities. His/her life or his/her trust?
So... that's all my suicidey advice for today! I hope you don't run into a situation like this anytime soon, but now you're fairly prepared if so.
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