Woe is me, please set me be

I love my job. I work with people with disability, illness or injury to find work. Along the way they find pieces of themselves that being “disabled” in a society built and engineered toward the “normal” have gotten lost.  I live the philosophy of my employer. I believe every person has a unique skill, perspective or talent to by I g to an employer. The right person for the right job.

So why am I sitting on my bed, stressed and miserable, instead of at work? Doing what I believe in:

1) I have broken ribs and I haven’t stopped and looked after them. They hurt all the time. Way worse than fibro does at the moment. I need to rest.

2) I have had endless issues with a computer system from hell and yesterday it broke me. I couldn’t take one more phone call to the help desk for a short term if any fix. One more play nice instead of really saying what I meant.

3) I can’t breathe. I have hubby caring for my best interests at home, which I love. My work partner is also my personal trainer and I can’t breathe. I can’t be. Someone 8s always in my space, yammering or ordering or judging or just in my space. Can I shout ” look away!! Nothing to see”!!

4) Too many changes all at once. I have a full time job that is business and I dress differently and I often don’t recognise me. I went vegetarian. I went hard core work outs … as much as one can in this broken down body. My dad had a heart attack and a stroke and I discovered a well of anger at him. My blood brother can be Mary sunshine which is just fracking annoying and I feel disconnected and judged by my heart brother. Life is tough atm and much is self inflicted.

So one day at a time and don’t say the first though in my head. It is never going to be pc!!


Working with me

Day 25: What is your opinion on forced/coercion in mental health treatment? Can be legal (law enforcement or psychiatric holds) or a “helping” friend/family member.

I have experienced both legal psychiatric holds and “helping” from my hubby.  To be honest in each case I was not in a position to critically analyse my mental state and make logical decisions.  Bottom line is that hospitalisation saved my life.

When it was my husband “helping” me I admit to initial anger with him.  I wanted to die and he wanted me to live.  Not very much common ground there.  In fact it became a battleground.  I read a quote on Facebook that sums how I felt:



That was the internal battle and hubby firmly sided with my body.   Hubby’s point of view was that life was the only important thing.  My point of view was that the quality of that life is important.

I do believe that when a person is a risk to themselves or others the health professionals need the legal capacity to hospitalise them for their and other people’s safety.  The person wanting to die is more than likely to not be in the state of mind to care about their own life.  However, saving someone’s life is not enough.

The health professionals need to help the person out of crisis and into a sustainable health state.  Leaving them alone without the necessary resources, be they internal coping mechanisms or external support, seems pointless.  At the least, hubby has always worked with me after initially working against me to save my life.