Get ready, folks, for a good laugh….
My ex-therapist thinks I’m in the hospital right now. But she’s wrong…I’m not at the hospital. I’m totally off the hook with her and I don’t give a hoot.
I had phoned the hospital not this past weekend, but the weekend before, asking about care, specifically a week ago, that is, Monday the 11th, because the Admissions personnel weren’t exactly in last weekend due to the storm. I guess they decided the local Crisis Team should get in on the act. I’ve told my blog readers all this before, but in case you’re just tuning in, I’ll recap.
I told those Admissions folks no way did I want the Crisis Team showing up with the bells and whistles of police, ambulances, sirens, uniforms, and the like, so they’d better call first.
Now at this point I guess they called, and we agreed there would be no “home visit” if I agreed to make arrangements for Puzzle’s care, and show up at the hospital the following day. They said, “Call us tonight, and if you don’t remember by 8pm, we’ll call you.”
Did they remember? Nope. I phoned them maybe at around 8:30 or so, saying I was busy making a You-Tube. I said I was using Windows Movie Maker, and explained that this was free movie editing software that came with every Windows computer. I said I was making the You-Tube on request from a mental health website (not sure I mentioned the name of the website, but it’s healthyplace dot com’s Stand Up for Mental Health campaign) and I said the You-Tube was about empowerment and stigma and the advantages and disadvantages of “coming out” as a person with mental illness.
This information, all about “movie editing,” “software,” “You-Tube,” and the like rather overwhelmed this crisis worker. Keep in mind that most of their clients are not computer savvy, don’t have online access, and may not even know how to “keyboard,” as they put it, and often don’t have interest in it and don’t understand the value of it. So this crisis worker probably thought I was as together as can be.
You-Tube? Yeah, Julie’s fine. So everyone promptly forgot about me. Which was just what I wanted. And to tell you the truth, what I needed.
So I think my CBFS worker thinks I’m in the hospital. My ex-therapist thinks I’m in the hospital. How nice to have “disappeared.”
My psychiatrist phoned me, I think Wednesday night, saying, “Let me get this straight. You decided NOT to go into Walden?”
I can’t recall what I said, but I told her I had an appointment with a new T on Saturday, and that I would go to that appointment, and that was that. Apparently, my psychiatrist, Dr. P, didn’t phone anyone to inform them of my “decision.” Good.
Meanwhile, I signed up for a 5k not long before all this came about. This race is at the end of April. I told myself, “Yeah, Julie, fat chance this’ll pan out.” But I seem to be following through. I went to the gym Thursday and yesterday and ran quite a bit. I surprised myself at how well I was able to run. I felt strong and steady and happy and natural and felt no strain or soreness whatsoever. Yesterday I completed three and a half miles of combined running and walking, mostly running, and whatever walking I was doing was very, very fast, or at least fast for someone my height. Is it a myth that someone with short little legs is probably going to walk slower than someone with longer legs?
There is no reason I should have a crappy life. Why should I accept this lot? Why am I taking these “low expectations” everyone seems to be heaping on me? Why not reach for the stars? I am not scum, and I refuse to be spat on any longer. Move out of the way, you fuckers. This race is on, and I’ve got your number.