Who Do I Think I Am??

This one's about the dreaded essay.

Good evening everybody...it's been awhile, hasn't it? Before I get started, I'd like to share something I saw on Facebook a few weeks back. Some of my regulars and friends have already seen it, but it bears repeating. The original posting comes courtesy of one of my all-time Top 5 Canadian musicians, Matthew Good:

You walk like I thought you’d walk
And you talk like I thought you’d talk
Broken glass, lips to ass, the stars up in the sky
I'm like that one about a priest who walks in a bar
Orders a drink and then finds god, and then finds god
All in savage company
But cruelty free, well heavens me
I never thought I’d see the day
I've had it coming

I don't know how or why, but somehow it feels oddly relevant.

Anyway, on to the matter at hand. Much of my summer has been a mess...more of a smashing into brick walls rather than the comedy of errors it felt like at times. Allow me to use bullet points in order to sort of, kind of, sum it up. This feels like September, actually...ya know, like when you go back to school and the first thing the teacher does after writing his/her name on the board is ask you to write an essay on what you did over the summer vacation? So in honor of autumn, here's my list...

In June, after the most ridiculous fight over nothing, the girlfriend who shall not be named has had enough of my shit and unceremoniously decided to terminate our relationship. Apparently, "nothing" > "lots of little things = one big fall-out" in my dialect.

Shortly thereafter, I became overwhelmed with all of the little things I had going on and creeping up on me. I was accused of attempting suicide, which was not the case. Was I depressed? Yes. Did I want to escape? Yes. But there was never an attempt. Nonetheless, hospital stay #1 at the end of June is the start of the journey.

After the "Behavioral Health Unit" stay of about a week, it was on to a motel. That lasted a few weeks. Out of work. Bored. Not really as healthy as I thought I was. And I come to find out that I've been accused of "indiscretions" and that "there's proof". And to this day, I still haven't gotten a fair shake or a solid answer about any of this. I know this: I don't know what was seen or how it was interpreted, but once someone makes up their mind about something, whether it's right or not, it becomes awfully hard to change, no matter what the truth is.

For the first time ever in my personal history, I got the flu in the summertime. Cold sweats and hot flashes. Puking and general stomach upsettedness (yes, I know that's a made-up word, but you'll have that). Achiness and dizziness. Dehydration. And no matter what I took, I couldn't sleep.

Shortly before I started receiving disability benefits, I was temporarily out of funds. I spent two nights in a homeless shelter, where I was basically treated like shit because they didn't want to take the time to sign me in. After two nights of not sleeping and missing breakfast the next morning, they were finally going to sign me in. This is where it gets fun...while waiting for the intake person to sign me in and get me an actual bed instead of sleeping in a community room on a cot, I had a seizure. So much for the City Mission, going downtown and obtaining benefits, and basically getting my life back on track...it was on to hospital stay #2. And this time, for whatever reason, even though it'd been awhile since I'd had any kind of alcohol in my system, they put me in detox for a very unproductive week. And by that I mean there was nothing to do but watch tv. No counselling, no classes, no treatment, nothing. I had an MRI on my head because I cracked it pretty good when I hit the ground after my seizure, and they didn't even give me any results.

Out of the hospital and back to the motel. And for the second time ever in my own personal history, I got the flu in the summertime again. Same thing; exact same symptoms. Three days of getting out of bed only to use the bathroom. An unprecedented summer already, and it was barely halfway over.

Finally almost healthy, it was time again to leave the motel. My disability payments were coming from a third-party insurance company, and somehow they determined they had overpaid me. I had to call the payroll department at work to see what the deal was. Payroll told me to call the state's department of disability or whatever. So I did...and it turns out they had no record of me even filing a claim for disability, and I'd have to refile...and in doing so, part of whatever I'd be eligible for would first be going to the insurance company to satisfy the overpayment, with the rest being cut to me in the form of a paper check instead of being added to my paycard via direct deposit like my normal pay and disability pay were. Needless to say, when you wake up in the morning expecting a sizeable deposit in your account and it's not there, it's not a good feeling. Especially when you're about to be two nights behind on your room payment and your phone's about to be shut off. Luckily, I managed to get by with a little help for a few days.

And then a few days were over. Unsure of my future, with no money and no place to stay, coupled with being out of the medications I was taking for sleep and depression, I damn near had a nervous breakdown. Call it an "Alert Status: Red" type of panic attack. On the side of a busy street, of all places. I did the smart thing. I called one of those crisis hotlines, because this was a crisis of epic proportions. There I am, getting talked down from a proverbial ledge on the side of the road, with what little belongings I still own...and the best they could do for me? Hello, hospital stay #3. And would you believe that after sitting in the ER for about seven hours, and speaking with a total of three nurse-type people for a total of five minutes, they were going to discharge me? Without even having seen anyone that could help me in my mental state? Yeah, that's only the beginning.

The first two times I was in the hospital, I couldn't wait to get out...but they wanted to keep me as long as possible, which still wasn't very long but long enough. That third time, however, was at a different hospital...and I really thought I was going to be in for awhile. I was on four different meds the first three days...a new anti-depressant every day plus Ambien for sleep. I was prepared for the long haul. I made peace with thinking I wasn't leaving until I was right, until I was "normal" again. I specifically said that through tears to my assigned counsellor. However, this program was different. Their motto is "We won't keep you here a minute more than we have to." Apparently, these doctors and "professionals" (I use that term loosely...the entire staff was horrible) know my brain and body better than I do. After almost a week there, I told the doctor I felt no better than the first day I was there...and he wanted to hear no part of it. They really wanted to push me out of there before the weekend (presumably to make room for a new crop of crazies on the Behavioral Health Ward). The counsellors would hunt you down to make sure you took part in their group sessions, even if they were irrelevant to your current state of affairs, but when you needed to talk to them about your treatment, they were nowhere to be found.

[SIDEBAR: This facility uses a form of treatment known as "Evidence-based" treatment. This means that they have "proof" that it works. Now, mind you, on this floor are all types of mental health patients...the depressed, the elderly/invalids, schizophrenics, drug addicts, and those who generally can't care for themselves otherwise. Are you telling me that all of these patients can be lumped together and treated the same way for such a variety of afflictions? I think not. But don't get me started...that is just one of the many complaints and missteps I could talk about regarding this place.]

They gave me a date for discharge, which I was told I could appeal. And I tried, but apparently my appeal wasn't formal enough and/or fell on deaf ears. They asked me what time of day I wanted to leave the day before, so I could arrange after-care and all that fun stuff. I told them 6pm. The nurse said that was ok. The next day, I'm just watching tv. I blew off groups because they were only going to put me out on the street in a few hours anyway, so why bother? The only time the social worker said anything to me was when she accompanied the doctor (who, by the way, only bothered to see me at 7am while I was still asleep), and their joint plan was "Well, if you've got nowhere else to go, you can just go to the City Mission." Yup, this is your tax dollars hard at work folks. That's a friggin' solution alright. On the day of my discharge, around 1:45pm, the social worker pops her head in the tv room and asks me what I'm still doing there. According to her, I was scheduled for a discharge at 1pm. Maybe in her next life she should be a weatherperson...it must be nice to just make this stuff up as she goes along, because no one shared this info with me at all. I had to hurry, pack up, shower, and GTFO basically, and they didn't seem too concerned about where I went so long as I was not under their care anymore. And this was just last week, for those of you keeping score at home.

So here's me, wandering around downtown Buffalo. I'm a suburban kid; I couldn't find my way around downtown if you stapled The 33, The 190 and The Skyway to my forehead, legs and ass. And my phone would receive calls, but wouldn't make calls or send texts. After sorting that out and trying to secure some loose ends, I finally got a hold of DMFM, who helped me out the last few days (and a lot of other times also). I spent the last few days back at the motel, trying to secure emergency housing (to no avail), trying to secure some vacation pay from work because I won't be able to use it when I get back and to compensate for getting screwed out of disability (also to no avail- big corporations and their policies be damned...the word "hardship" isn't in their vocabulary because they only care about the bottom line, which is funny for a company that carries an advertising slogan "Be Well" but cares more about spending billions of dollars acquiring overseas companies and creating computer-enhanced commercials where workers are performing highly impossible feats and doing things that would never, ever happen), and trying to figure out how to get medical clearance to return to work (again, to no avail...and I'll be here all night if I get into that debacle, because apparently you're not allowed to get sick and be in a hospital when you're on disability and the company tries to send you time-sensitive materials to an address you don't even have and still expects you to have it in by a certain time regardless). And that third-party insurance company handling my disability claim? They told me that after September 12th my short-term disability would switch to unpaid leave...when I called to inquire about that today through payroll, they told me that was not the case and that I have to apply for it. So basically I've been given the shit end of the stick all the way around from people whose words I'm supposed to take and trust. Unreal. More damn paperwork.

And that leads us to today. I left the motel because it's no longer feasible to keep staying there if I haven't had income in a month. I had every intent to go back to the City Mission...where I should've just went on Friday anyway, but they were already full before I had a chance to get down there (thank you, stupid chilly autumn weather). I have no idea how I'm going to get there, since buses stop running out this way soon. Can't get a hold of anyone. I made a nice, long walk from the motel to the library, and halfway back to McDonalds, where I'm totally taking too much advantage of their free Wi-Fi (hey- I also got some food too; don't think I'm just here for the technology! I'm not that cheap...admit that the thought crossed your mind that I'd just be hacking into their signal for nothing). Kinda out of plans if I can't get to the Mission. And it's getting cooler out as the sun has set. This ought to be an interesting night, fo' sho'.

So that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I spent my summer "vacation"...hardly a vacation at all. After all of the roadblocks I've run into these past few months, the law of averages suggests something's got to go my way soon. That's how I'm looking at it right now, which is a stark 180-degree turn from where I was in my head two months ago. And as much as I hate to say it (and even moreso do I know no one wants to hear it), there is one simple solution to all of this, but I pretty much have accepted that it'll never happen and have just about made peace with that so the idea doesn't even merit the mention (but it involves she-who-will-not-be-named).

One more time, for persepective after reading what you just read, will I offer this:

You walk like I thought you’d walk
And you talk like I thought you’d talk
Broken glass, lips to ass, the stars up in the sky
I'm like that one about a priest who walks in a bar
Orders a drink and then finds god, and then finds god
All in savage company
But cruelty free, well heavens me
I never thought I’d see the day
I've had it coming

MUSICAL BREAK!!

He's been here a few times the last few years, yet I've missed him for one reason or another every damn time.

VITAL STATS:

You can follow me on Twitter, @fivesixer for those who are so interested...although lately I've only been tweeting during Bills games. Once in awhile, however, I bust out a fun little nugget or two, plus the occasional retweet. I'm still playing around and getting used to it though. Think of me as the actual "Man On The Street" with the bird's eye view of a bird's eye view.

I dunno why I never saw this emoticon earlier! Haven't had a beer in quite awhile actually, and right about now I could really go for getting hammered. But I won't...not only would that not be good for my meds or my mental state, but that activity is frowned upon thanks to NY's silly "open container" laws.

Alright, time to pack up and see what the night has in store for me and what I've got to carry...physically, mentally, emotionally. Be thankful for all you have...look to your left, look to your right, and tell someone you're thankful for where they are in your life if you appreciate them being there. You'll both smile inside for it. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!