Today i am thinking especially of John McCarthy who died this week.
In a tribute John Saunders asks us to question stigma and mental illness, he did this because John McCarthy as well asked the same and so do I.
tell me, if the statistics are so high regarding mental distress how can it be other, that mental distress is part of the human condition?
Not all these people can be ill?
Also, you cannot medicate all these people, and you cannot and shouldn't stigmatize this amount of people!
so who gets the stigma?
Of, course, those who enter into the psychiatry realm and those who self injure, take overdoses and cry out, in mental torment and pain.
How many then are left on the sidelines, doing all of this in secret?
Also what are the manifestations of those who do not cry out?
If one does not blatantly cry out, what do they do?
Are these questions idiotic?
No, because pain manifests in many ways.
Some pain gets passed off as 'normal' and some gets critized as 'abnormal'
We also have real physical pain once considered mental distress now considered by the world health organization as genuine, documented, provable physical illness, for instance, Fibromyalgia was once considered 'faking' and 'neurotic!' and Parkinsons Disease a result of masturbation!
How wrong can we get it!
Tell me please who is deciding all this?
I have the best guess ever, that it is medical professionals.
They are the people who are at the top of the pyramid in health systems, who are there at the coal face of distress.
As the new God of the human being, as saviour of the human being, they command great respect.
such respect means that anything they say will be taken as the human gospel of human anatomical and neurological and psychological truth.
we take the above incidences where they got it wrong.
Now i ask, why bother to try categorize illness, feelings and such? Why not let people just 'be' for Life, my friends is no 'piece of cake.'
-then you die.
Right, you bet.
I am sad tonight...no...i am depressed.
I am so because a relationship is not working out well and both are causing distress to the other.
Can this depression and this distress be considered now a mental illness?
I have been very frightened for almost three years without one day's break.
i am on high alert now and unused to not feeling the anxiety and the fears of bringing hammers to bed with me for protection.
Is the result a kind of PTSD or is it just 'a fact of life' and circumstances?
I am advised to take an anti-depressant to try calm the brain down after the horror i have gone through.
why?
can i not try to calm down the brain now, i am away from threat...can i teach myself to start a new start and learn to calm down through meditation and mindfulness?
Yes, i can, and yes i will but certainly No, i will not take a pill for life events that cause distress.
the only instance where my brain and body should be very contained is when and if i am about to jump over a cliff, but even then a person's distress should have been discovered long before the leap into the unknown.
Once discovered a person should be 'loved back' into wellbeing and confidence to continue.
Life is now what we think we believe.
Science and religion do not give us many answers at all.
All we can do but be passing shadows in the daytimes and nights, and resolve to be a good person, caring and loving and be part of community.
If we do not do it well the first day, or week keep going but always keep going.
we never get it right!
We are all moving in curves and circles.
lets hope the curves and circles include everyone and that everyone learns that a pill is not magic, living and loving is not either but living and loving is so good why blast our brains out with dumbing down meds?
i have the answer, Sir! Life is learning, i need to be sharp to stay on the road and not get ditched.
all the best in life and love.
and all the best to the person in my loving relationship that i am not loving very well at present. BUT, tomorrow is another day to try ...again.
AWNYAH TODAYSAY Ann living in the Republic of Ireland and it is not a good thing. We have now ratified the EU convention on the rights of people with disabilities, yet we failed in ratifying the optional protocol, allowing us ability to make complaints to the EU under the convention, with little facility to do so in our own country. We go unheard in every sense of the word. This is unjust and leaves us more vulnerable and open to abuses. We are suffering. I am suffering.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Mary Raftery and John McCarty, giants in a small nation. RIP
Today will be remembered for wonderful reasons but also too for shock and sadness.
How do you write a blog on such a day?
to divide into segments the great and the small, the real and the insignificant, the very large and the very humbled?
firstly after a long long protracted period i have secured my 'forever home.'
i do hope that this place shall be in a small way, large and significant and a Hubble of great proportions to which my friends and family are all very welcomed.
the day was good to me...signing for the property, having the banter with two young men as we stalked my new home trying to work out how to make good small and tiny places within the home and without.
all ideas were tossed to the wind.
we trampled the grass and observed.
the next door's extension was of a 'grand affair' nature.
the massive lumpy shed of mine as suggested to the men, would actually serve as a wonderful office pod, taking off the frontage and putting glass panel doors.
they liked that, and from a woman it was mighty!
ha, joke. sorry, no good, standing on the grass with my stick faced with two zany men who possibly, only possibly would have all the answers.
nah.
inside we had the same debate of shifting boundaries, and in the most cost effect way.
questions ensued about getting over the fact that all windows were effectively illegal from today's building regulations. Now that will cost some to replace but i suggested a convenient lump hammer in case of fire.
its the cheaper option i felt.
sniggers and giggles all round!
one of the guys felt the back did get the sun close up to the windows, for the grass grew and not moss.
would you have thought of that?
nah.
and so the day progressed.
meeting my new Personal Assistant with a chihuahua maltese cross, all the way from belgium, and not rabid as was jabbed.
a little moony ball of fluff which my two chihuahuas took well to. A great start.
then it was to the District Nurse to sort out Health issues and 'mess.'
a few tears shed here, but no matter.
then we have the divide in the mundane.
sadly.
shocking news yesterday of the death of Mary Raftery at the young age of 54.
my twin and i walked the beach, my twin, pale and pensive, tears dripping from the edges.
Mary Raftery was no small individual.
no small character could have changed a nation so much as this woman.
remember, here we have a Woman..making such a major difference to how we perceive abuse and also priests and clergy abusers.
No more the scuff of the Mamas of generations gone past.
no more the scuff of the Bishops and Archbishops gone past.
a small, larger than life woman with the tenacity of a politician and shaker, a mover in our society, changing society. changing it forever. No more will our small nation be dominated by a single church who practically gave this nation its constitutional values and creeds in entirety.
We now have shaken off the shackles of superior belief systems, to one of openness and reality.
Yes, christians sin and christians can cause harm.
Mary, may you rest in peace, gone too soon.
We all grieve at this great loss.
Toward the evening time, i learnt of another death.
This was almost unbearable as this person also moved the nation.
Facing the stigma always present in Ireland, of the pain of mental illness and distress a man marched forth and called 'enough is enough.'
We DO become psychologically and mentally challenged.
This is no different to any other bodily distress and trauma.
Our brain is on the top of our bodies, and it can kilter as much as the legs, middle and neck.
The neck does not end our body at one end.
The head does.
John started 'Mad Pride', to be proud of your person, your body and your mind.
whatever way it manifested itself.
we are after all, All precious. Very much so.
This being another person standing up to what i want to see, unshackled reality and truth.
Our mind can waver but we are all so human and all should hold to the dignity and miracle of Life, In all its twists and turns.
I admire the people who have spoken thus.
What can i say to end a blog on such a day as this?
I can say, I have been abused by a roman catholic clergyman and i have had the experiences of being vulnerable psychologically and mentally.
but I am ok. I am really ok, for just like all, i am human.
By the way on the final note, my legs are off kilter and sway and wobble and have to be shorn up. That apparently is Ok, being of so-called 'unsound mind' is not, let us hope that through such people as Mary Raftery and John McCarthy and their values we will see a country and a nation with wonderful ethos and practices. We should already, be very proud to have had such people in our midst.
Thank you to both.
Mary and John, may you rest in peace. Gone, but never forgotten.
How do you write a blog on such a day?
to divide into segments the great and the small, the real and the insignificant, the very large and the very humbled?
firstly after a long long protracted period i have secured my 'forever home.'
i do hope that this place shall be in a small way, large and significant and a Hubble of great proportions to which my friends and family are all very welcomed.
the day was good to me...signing for the property, having the banter with two young men as we stalked my new home trying to work out how to make good small and tiny places within the home and without.
all ideas were tossed to the wind.
we trampled the grass and observed.
the next door's extension was of a 'grand affair' nature.
the massive lumpy shed of mine as suggested to the men, would actually serve as a wonderful office pod, taking off the frontage and putting glass panel doors.
they liked that, and from a woman it was mighty!
ha, joke. sorry, no good, standing on the grass with my stick faced with two zany men who possibly, only possibly would have all the answers.
nah.
inside we had the same debate of shifting boundaries, and in the most cost effect way.
questions ensued about getting over the fact that all windows were effectively illegal from today's building regulations. Now that will cost some to replace but i suggested a convenient lump hammer in case of fire.
its the cheaper option i felt.
sniggers and giggles all round!
one of the guys felt the back did get the sun close up to the windows, for the grass grew and not moss.
would you have thought of that?
nah.
and so the day progressed.
meeting my new Personal Assistant with a chihuahua maltese cross, all the way from belgium, and not rabid as was jabbed.
a little moony ball of fluff which my two chihuahuas took well to. A great start.
then it was to the District Nurse to sort out Health issues and 'mess.'
a few tears shed here, but no matter.
then we have the divide in the mundane.
sadly.
shocking news yesterday of the death of Mary Raftery at the young age of 54.
my twin and i walked the beach, my twin, pale and pensive, tears dripping from the edges.
Mary Raftery was no small individual.
no small character could have changed a nation so much as this woman.
remember, here we have a Woman..making such a major difference to how we perceive abuse and also priests and clergy abusers.
No more the scuff of the Mamas of generations gone past.
no more the scuff of the Bishops and Archbishops gone past.
a small, larger than life woman with the tenacity of a politician and shaker, a mover in our society, changing society. changing it forever. No more will our small nation be dominated by a single church who practically gave this nation its constitutional values and creeds in entirety.
We now have shaken off the shackles of superior belief systems, to one of openness and reality.
Yes, christians sin and christians can cause harm.
Mary, may you rest in peace, gone too soon.
We all grieve at this great loss.
Toward the evening time, i learnt of another death.
This was almost unbearable as this person also moved the nation.
Facing the stigma always present in Ireland, of the pain of mental illness and distress a man marched forth and called 'enough is enough.'
We DO become psychologically and mentally challenged.
This is no different to any other bodily distress and trauma.
Our brain is on the top of our bodies, and it can kilter as much as the legs, middle and neck.
The neck does not end our body at one end.
The head does.
John started 'Mad Pride', to be proud of your person, your body and your mind.
whatever way it manifested itself.
we are after all, All precious. Very much so.
This being another person standing up to what i want to see, unshackled reality and truth.
Our mind can waver but we are all so human and all should hold to the dignity and miracle of Life, In all its twists and turns.
I admire the people who have spoken thus.
What can i say to end a blog on such a day as this?
I can say, I have been abused by a roman catholic clergyman and i have had the experiences of being vulnerable psychologically and mentally.
but I am ok. I am really ok, for just like all, i am human.
By the way on the final note, my legs are off kilter and sway and wobble and have to be shorn up. That apparently is Ok, being of so-called 'unsound mind' is not, let us hope that through such people as Mary Raftery and John McCarthy and their values we will see a country and a nation with wonderful ethos and practices. We should already, be very proud to have had such people in our midst.
Thank you to both.
Mary and John, may you rest in peace. Gone, but never forgotten.
Monday, January 9, 2012
One day angst free but not so terror free, question my gov please
Daily, on a daily basis i have to read, be assaulted and anxiety driven by media on the so called 'state of the nation' and what i may lose in taxes, disability cuts and a myriad of other stuff, yes 'stuff' again.
where have i seen such avid attention to detail before?
no where, and certainly no tiny pin pick pocketing of more wealthier foe than those with nuts and bolts under their arse, who use electric legs to get around and sticks that clack and elderly who are abused, depressed and frail have i seen in our Ireland before.
this is not the picking nit of an Irishman, i see it not in our past and it came too quick to have been cobbled up by an irish man or woman.
we don't do 'fast' never did fast, but many countries do and do it well, germany, france and the UK to name a few.
when we change the health service admin three times in as many decades (or thereabouts) without changing the professionalism and attitude to patient care, stigma on the mental health status of patients and so much more..stuff. can you trust my gov to think?
nope, cos they have not thought through the mess our health service is in.
we have no structure no sense nor reason to it.
we just shut down a few wards, stop employing the top medics and discharge all and sundry to what i call 'the dying cages,' nursing homes, to you.
we do still do payrolls for this shoddy admin by paper, paper coming out of their ears, and in duplicate and triplicate.
Ireland we cannot afford to pay someone to do it all by hand now, if nothing else, think of our threes if not the trunks and inners of your sick clientele languishing on a trolley in some war zone A&E in our land, Ireland.
We seem to have in spades a volunteerism attitude though and we are the best givers of dosh to underdeveloped countries, and good on us, i have to say.
its so good to be good at something eh?
lets try it in this country.
its a full moon too, so thast may hinder many of the top brass, i have already stood out and howled, my twin is withnessed to that, she was beside me...and howling too!
if i see our Enda come out of where ever and scream his head off i would be thrilled, but ya, its called 'action not words' so i will call on ALL to protest with their feet and wheels firmly knowledged in the fact that enda just about is puppit rule in my shame riddleland
where have i seen such avid attention to detail before?
no where, and certainly no tiny pin pick pocketing of more wealthier foe than those with nuts and bolts under their arse, who use electric legs to get around and sticks that clack and elderly who are abused, depressed and frail have i seen in our Ireland before.
this is not the picking nit of an Irishman, i see it not in our past and it came too quick to have been cobbled up by an irish man or woman.
we don't do 'fast' never did fast, but many countries do and do it well, germany, france and the UK to name a few.
when we change the health service admin three times in as many decades (or thereabouts) without changing the professionalism and attitude to patient care, stigma on the mental health status of patients and so much more..stuff. can you trust my gov to think?
nope, cos they have not thought through the mess our health service is in.
we have no structure no sense nor reason to it.
we just shut down a few wards, stop employing the top medics and discharge all and sundry to what i call 'the dying cages,' nursing homes, to you.
we do still do payrolls for this shoddy admin by paper, paper coming out of their ears, and in duplicate and triplicate.
Ireland we cannot afford to pay someone to do it all by hand now, if nothing else, think of our threes if not the trunks and inners of your sick clientele languishing on a trolley in some war zone A&E in our land, Ireland.
We seem to have in spades a volunteerism attitude though and we are the best givers of dosh to underdeveloped countries, and good on us, i have to say.
its so good to be good at something eh?
lets try it in this country.
its a full moon too, so thast may hinder many of the top brass, i have already stood out and howled, my twin is withnessed to that, she was beside me...and howling too!
if i see our Enda come out of where ever and scream his head off i would be thrilled, but ya, its called 'action not words' so i will call on ALL to protest with their feet and wheels firmly knowledged in the fact that enda just about is puppit rule in my shame riddleland
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Getting Life wrong, getting it wrong in life
What is the magic ingredient to dealing well with everything in this life?
I find that i don't have the flour nor the milk for the dough to rise for me, hence nourishment is as 'flat as a pancake.'
I enjoy most things to full abandon.
I am in awe of nature, skies (which i have been watching with unusual intimacy, am i hoping for the angels to desend and take me up, or help me out)?
I am in awe of the feathered friends i now see on my twins bird feeding station.
In awe of the tiny fingers and toes and button- noses of my great neps and nieces.
So in awe of Life itself, for i am afraid of the afters.
so what is wrong?
Just about everything.
Humans.
it is so true that without the social contact, the everyday contact and the ability to contact you are left feeling bereft and lonely.
Wondering.
What do you do next?
What do you do to repair what you have done so badly wrong and how do you learn from that, even if you can say what the hell you did wrong in the first place!
And, what is this about seeking the word of Love?
is it there at all?
i doubt it.
So in the absence of Love, can i please have Friendship?
I wonder and ponder and coming up to what is called the Fruitful Third Age (of wisdom, no less), i ain't got that, not in abundance, flat as a pancake non-abundance.
Like nothing rises within my soul or within my sphere of waking up, eating, going to the toilet, dressing in between all this, (sometime) and then taking the teeth out, scrubbing whats left, taking a warm bath, then the pills and the sleepers and spending a god-damn awful eight hours in solitary darkness.
Dawn brings the new hope that stuff, yes STUFF, will be better, i may do better and i get up.
if i didn't have this hope, which is more like grinding determination against the odds, i would stay flat.
Then I would ask for nothing.
No beautiful skies, no birds and no grass.
you get up wojus, absolutely.
you ache, your bones do not feel your own, your muscles less so and your mind - not at all.
The first thing you do is curse at Lufe and then you, yes, take Lufe out on the nearest and dearest as if, Life/Lufe was the competition on a grand scale.
What is worse though, you don't even know it until you are so at loggerheads that it is reduced to "i did the washing up yesterday, its your turn today," Stuff!
That's really sad.
Not just sad but downright pathetic.
Things get flung, things get said and after that, the bones are wojus, the muscles more so and you want to go back to bed to recover mind and body and lie flat.
Possibly for the rest of the day, God willing.
The end of the day usually pans out good but why just as you are about to spend eight hours in bodily hell you decide that heaven is in Friendship, just as you face hell?
Tonight too i am fasting (for my sins) to have a 'blood letting' at 9.30am after that i can drink some water and come home like, anti-christ, tired, exhausted and in pain. All over pain.
Will the dragon deep inside roar and if so, will it understand why?
Nope, possibly yes, it will roar, will it understand? Possibly no, always no.
What are the lessons in Love, friendship and social graces?
this one here doesn't know em.
She is trying, very hard, but something is going wrong.
is it that i have not built a team spirit and team workmanship as my next and i plough through the furrows of sticky gooey mud, called Life or Lufe.
No, neither myself nor twin will win next year's ploughing championship.
the horse bolts long before its in the trap of harness.
the whips are out, full force.
"Would you get up offa your arse and wash the fecking dishes...and by the way...you have not put petrol in the engine all week, you owe my van some...like Today, like...now!"
A tin kitty has been set up with a pasted label.
Food - per week - E50 each.
Petrol - per week - E20 each.
All is stuck on the kitchen table.
I now lump to the bath to ease out aching bones and muscles and face the obsurdity of sleeping in the dark for no good reason, I can see, anyway.
I find that i don't have the flour nor the milk for the dough to rise for me, hence nourishment is as 'flat as a pancake.'
I enjoy most things to full abandon.
I am in awe of nature, skies (which i have been watching with unusual intimacy, am i hoping for the angels to desend and take me up, or help me out)?
I am in awe of the feathered friends i now see on my twins bird feeding station.
In awe of the tiny fingers and toes and button- noses of my great neps and nieces.
So in awe of Life itself, for i am afraid of the afters.
so what is wrong?
Just about everything.
Humans.
it is so true that without the social contact, the everyday contact and the ability to contact you are left feeling bereft and lonely.
Wondering.
What do you do next?
What do you do to repair what you have done so badly wrong and how do you learn from that, even if you can say what the hell you did wrong in the first place!
And, what is this about seeking the word of Love?
is it there at all?
i doubt it.
So in the absence of Love, can i please have Friendship?
I wonder and ponder and coming up to what is called the Fruitful Third Age (of wisdom, no less), i ain't got that, not in abundance, flat as a pancake non-abundance.
Like nothing rises within my soul or within my sphere of waking up, eating, going to the toilet, dressing in between all this, (sometime) and then taking the teeth out, scrubbing whats left, taking a warm bath, then the pills and the sleepers and spending a god-damn awful eight hours in solitary darkness.
Dawn brings the new hope that stuff, yes STUFF, will be better, i may do better and i get up.
if i didn't have this hope, which is more like grinding determination against the odds, i would stay flat.
Then I would ask for nothing.
No beautiful skies, no birds and no grass.
you get up wojus, absolutely.
you ache, your bones do not feel your own, your muscles less so and your mind - not at all.
The first thing you do is curse at Lufe and then you, yes, take Lufe out on the nearest and dearest as if, Life/Lufe was the competition on a grand scale.
What is worse though, you don't even know it until you are so at loggerheads that it is reduced to "i did the washing up yesterday, its your turn today," Stuff!
That's really sad.
Not just sad but downright pathetic.
Things get flung, things get said and after that, the bones are wojus, the muscles more so and you want to go back to bed to recover mind and body and lie flat.
Possibly for the rest of the day, God willing.
The end of the day usually pans out good but why just as you are about to spend eight hours in bodily hell you decide that heaven is in Friendship, just as you face hell?
Tonight too i am fasting (for my sins) to have a 'blood letting' at 9.30am after that i can drink some water and come home like, anti-christ, tired, exhausted and in pain. All over pain.
Will the dragon deep inside roar and if so, will it understand why?
Nope, possibly yes, it will roar, will it understand? Possibly no, always no.
What are the lessons in Love, friendship and social graces?
this one here doesn't know em.
She is trying, very hard, but something is going wrong.
is it that i have not built a team spirit and team workmanship as my next and i plough through the furrows of sticky gooey mud, called Life or Lufe.
No, neither myself nor twin will win next year's ploughing championship.
the horse bolts long before its in the trap of harness.
the whips are out, full force.
"Would you get up offa your arse and wash the fecking dishes...and by the way...you have not put petrol in the engine all week, you owe my van some...like Today, like...now!"
A tin kitty has been set up with a pasted label.
Food - per week - E50 each.
Petrol - per week - E20 each.
All is stuck on the kitchen table.
I now lump to the bath to ease out aching bones and muscles and face the obsurdity of sleeping in the dark for no good reason, I can see, anyway.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Is nothing sacred in Life and Education?
Is nothing sacred in life? i mean, when one applies to a sort of mediocre course centre that is supported by a government training scheme grant should you also have to give that body the right to get your medical records?
does this happen in an Irish University setting? is it part of the Leaving Certificate points system? it isn't.
you come out of school with your grades, you are lucky if you get to University.
now the catch is..this semi state body running these courses that run you to nowhere near a job..but... you are disabled ..and that is the catch! You are entering the 'college' for people with disabilities.
you are disabled.
So in this instance, you have to give permission to have this trumped up educational body (already critizied for doing a very poor job) to delve into your health status..wait for it..that includes if you have any unusual sexual habits...i kid you not! in other words, are you a sex pervert?
Well tell me please if you were, why should you admit that just because you are disabled?
No one has to allow a doctor to tell an educational body this, even in a third level institution there are sex perverts who are not discovered so until they commit a sexual crime!
Why should a disabled person sort of tell the authority of a so called orientation before they are rounded upon to answer for a sex crime!
which comes first?
a person committing a crime or a person admitting they have the inclination to commit a crime?
An able bodied person can and usually does have a democratic freedom of being free, until they commit a crime!
If you admitted to an inclination to commit a sex crime do you think you would be let into an educational setting...no!
barred...before any crime committed.
Now we move on to some other questions...
self injury being one and also you have to give permission for the educationalists to find the names of your psychotherapist, psychiatrist and social worker!
why?
why should they know if you are in a certain level of psychological distress?
you can go to a third level institution and withhold this information for this is a stigmatized area and you may be studying for instance..medicine!
but if you go to study desktop publishing you have to tell the educational body that you creep along to a psychologist or therapist and that a social worker is there in the background.
why?
why should a desk top publishing student have to tell anyone they have a social worker!?
well, the reason is, you are a disabled student doing desk top publishing course!
this is bizarre.
Now lets talk sense.
People are in this society with the tag on that everyone is equal in love and war.
we have the constitutional right to democracy and education and privacy.
What this trumped up death trap is asking for is intimate details of your personal life which will prevent you rather than enhance your chances of going through the course effectively and getting a job at the end (actually, i am biased, i don't think many get jobs out of this place, i have heard of few, very few)!
When the head of Design and Art tells you years after you left the darn place that my artistic skills were far greater than any on the course of choice and i could have been a teacher rather than a student at the time AND this same person makes you to do six months basic maths before embarking on the course (art and design)...you can tell its all heading in the wrong direction...i lasted three weeks on the course, and six months learning basic maths (er, i have dyscalculia)!
i never learnt basic maths and i could have taught art and design in the place not take the course.
something i discovered after three weeks in the Art and Design classroom!
Something else i discovered during my six months basic maths, i was a bloody good shot putter, a bloody fine sprinter (the psychiatric students were able for this, but i was fast), an even better badminton player (all courts signed up for long before the time, they were so popular). finally i was a good archer.
now i tell you, some twenty years later, the badminton courts are gone, ditto the sports of any kind whatsoever, its Pilates now and Yoga!
you don't kiss the grass in this place for sure.
Twenty years later you also have to surrender your democratic rights to privacy.
No, this is not going in the right direction and i defy anyone to tell me it is.
Would the government of the day shut this institution down please, its a waste of time and money and disabled people are being lead to believe they may get a job out of this place.
it is fooling disabled people, cheating disabled people and paying people to do the cheating and the fooling.
This is a fact that is KNOWN by all and sundry.
A fact that can be verifiably confirmed
but as its the only training centre for disabled adults in our country they couldn't shut it down.
not even if it doesn't train anyone in anything.
These students should all be going to the third level institutions with support for their respective disabilities, and the rights owed to them to say if they are a self injurer or not, to say they are going to a psychotherapist or not, (i doubt anyone would admit to that, especially young people and they have no reason to).
i dont like this place or what they ask disabled people to tell them.
its all an education for me to learn of a Form that you are asked to get filled out, give permission to surrendering details of personal data in this manner and of this kind before you enter a classroom.
this i say has a lot more to do with litigation.
this is not only a bad way to go its a dangerous path to take. i dont like this sort of 'stuff.'
off with their heads i say.
does this happen in an Irish University setting? is it part of the Leaving Certificate points system? it isn't.
you come out of school with your grades, you are lucky if you get to University.
now the catch is..this semi state body running these courses that run you to nowhere near a job..but... you are disabled ..and that is the catch! You are entering the 'college' for people with disabilities.
you are disabled.
So in this instance, you have to give permission to have this trumped up educational body (already critizied for doing a very poor job) to delve into your health status..wait for it..that includes if you have any unusual sexual habits...i kid you not! in other words, are you a sex pervert?
Well tell me please if you were, why should you admit that just because you are disabled?
No one has to allow a doctor to tell an educational body this, even in a third level institution there are sex perverts who are not discovered so until they commit a sexual crime!
Why should a disabled person sort of tell the authority of a so called orientation before they are rounded upon to answer for a sex crime!
which comes first?
a person committing a crime or a person admitting they have the inclination to commit a crime?
An able bodied person can and usually does have a democratic freedom of being free, until they commit a crime!
If you admitted to an inclination to commit a sex crime do you think you would be let into an educational setting...no!
barred...before any crime committed.
Now we move on to some other questions...
self injury being one and also you have to give permission for the educationalists to find the names of your psychotherapist, psychiatrist and social worker!
why?
why should they know if you are in a certain level of psychological distress?
you can go to a third level institution and withhold this information for this is a stigmatized area and you may be studying for instance..medicine!
but if you go to study desktop publishing you have to tell the educational body that you creep along to a psychologist or therapist and that a social worker is there in the background.
why?
why should a desk top publishing student have to tell anyone they have a social worker!?
well, the reason is, you are a disabled student doing desk top publishing course!
this is bizarre.
Now lets talk sense.
People are in this society with the tag on that everyone is equal in love and war.
we have the constitutional right to democracy and education and privacy.
What this trumped up death trap is asking for is intimate details of your personal life which will prevent you rather than enhance your chances of going through the course effectively and getting a job at the end (actually, i am biased, i don't think many get jobs out of this place, i have heard of few, very few)!
When the head of Design and Art tells you years after you left the darn place that my artistic skills were far greater than any on the course of choice and i could have been a teacher rather than a student at the time AND this same person makes you to do six months basic maths before embarking on the course (art and design)...you can tell its all heading in the wrong direction...i lasted three weeks on the course, and six months learning basic maths (er, i have dyscalculia)!
i never learnt basic maths and i could have taught art and design in the place not take the course.
something i discovered after three weeks in the Art and Design classroom!
Something else i discovered during my six months basic maths, i was a bloody good shot putter, a bloody fine sprinter (the psychiatric students were able for this, but i was fast), an even better badminton player (all courts signed up for long before the time, they were so popular). finally i was a good archer.
now i tell you, some twenty years later, the badminton courts are gone, ditto the sports of any kind whatsoever, its Pilates now and Yoga!
you don't kiss the grass in this place for sure.
Twenty years later you also have to surrender your democratic rights to privacy.
No, this is not going in the right direction and i defy anyone to tell me it is.
Would the government of the day shut this institution down please, its a waste of time and money and disabled people are being lead to believe they may get a job out of this place.
it is fooling disabled people, cheating disabled people and paying people to do the cheating and the fooling.
This is a fact that is KNOWN by all and sundry.
A fact that can be verifiably confirmed
but as its the only training centre for disabled adults in our country they couldn't shut it down.
not even if it doesn't train anyone in anything.
These students should all be going to the third level institutions with support for their respective disabilities, and the rights owed to them to say if they are a self injurer or not, to say they are going to a psychotherapist or not, (i doubt anyone would admit to that, especially young people and they have no reason to).
i dont like this place or what they ask disabled people to tell them.
its all an education for me to learn of a Form that you are asked to get filled out, give permission to surrendering details of personal data in this manner and of this kind before you enter a classroom.
this i say has a lot more to do with litigation.
this is not only a bad way to go its a dangerous path to take. i dont like this sort of 'stuff.'
off with their heads i say.
Friday, January 6, 2012
just about crash out and being reported!
It absolutely does not 'do' to be sick in holy Ireland.
it also does not 'do' to ask for the help due to being sick in Ireland.
we don't 'do' sickie protests, out of fear really of not getting anything at all.
i got nothin' not even a cup of tea today.
there is simple logic at play in all of this...well, its considered simple and i consider it otherwise.
we are identical twins.
we are sickies.
we are disabled
we are very cobbled.
i am in bed possibly for the first time since before festive times.
bloody awful earache, crohns gone mad and ditto sjogrens.
i state 'i am in bed'
i state, 'gud, gotta take a day in bed.'
so i do just that.
i need a cup of tea and i am wrapped in boxes up to my ears and plants coming out of the ceiling (growing by the window)
i get up, get the cuppa and return to bed.
it now comes to lunch time, that time when most eat up to get fortified for the second belt of a day on the trott of living etc.
tweny past one and no sign of the living nor lunch.
twin is on her bed.
her home help...notice..her home help is playing with plates in soapy water.
i ask her is she not making my twin a simple lunch. well you would, like.
you just would.
twenty past one..home help...etc.
nope.
i blow a gasket...now that is not kosher with anyone in this house.
no bloody tea, no bloody soup, no bloody dried toast and no fecking anything..and everyone got the message ok.
a blast between the twin and i about home helps ensued.
who is she there for?
well the twin..naturally..
here is the catch.
i am due this sort of 'service' but although i have been interviewed, and got a gp and such. the home help service have not ratified my 'service,'
that means i don't get the cup of tea nor do i share in a simple meal with the twin.
the home help decides that playing with soap suds in designer tops is the order of the day.
my darling twin tries to inform me of the rights i have within the house.
none it seems.
even in a home of sickies.
the home help is only there to help one sickie for god's sake.
even though one packet soup, one and a half jugs of water and a quick stir can be divided between two sickies.
i storm out at the daftness of it all.
blasted regulations of no home help you ain't signed up to that.
And oh, home help sort of didn't realize that twin may need lunch.
yep.
so we have a fun time trying to clarify the necessities of being sanctioned and ratified and registered and intelligent design.
Sort of thing.
The poor twin says its her fault.
it is not.
Its about intelligence. you have two people tired, shattered and sick and not feeling well and delinquent tired, and shattered and sick.
it takes intelligence to understand that two sickies on their respective beds may need a bit of packet soup with one and a half jugs of water and a five minute stir out of her two hours of allotted time with the twin.
nope.
I AM BEING REPORTED TO THE SERVICES FOR BLOWIN A GASKET ON THIS ONE!
yep.
all's fair in love and war they say.
yep.
they say!
awnyah will have her say.
it also does not 'do' to ask for the help due to being sick in Ireland.
we don't 'do' sickie protests, out of fear really of not getting anything at all.
i got nothin' not even a cup of tea today.
there is simple logic at play in all of this...well, its considered simple and i consider it otherwise.
we are identical twins.
we are sickies.
we are disabled
we are very cobbled.
i am in bed possibly for the first time since before festive times.
bloody awful earache, crohns gone mad and ditto sjogrens.
i state 'i am in bed'
i state, 'gud, gotta take a day in bed.'
so i do just that.
i need a cup of tea and i am wrapped in boxes up to my ears and plants coming out of the ceiling (growing by the window)
i get up, get the cuppa and return to bed.
it now comes to lunch time, that time when most eat up to get fortified for the second belt of a day on the trott of living etc.
tweny past one and no sign of the living nor lunch.
twin is on her bed.
her home help...notice..her home help is playing with plates in soapy water.
i ask her is she not making my twin a simple lunch. well you would, like.
you just would.
twenty past one..home help...etc.
nope.
i blow a gasket...now that is not kosher with anyone in this house.
no bloody tea, no bloody soup, no bloody dried toast and no fecking anything..and everyone got the message ok.
a blast between the twin and i about home helps ensued.
who is she there for?
well the twin..naturally..
here is the catch.
i am due this sort of 'service' but although i have been interviewed, and got a gp and such. the home help service have not ratified my 'service,'
that means i don't get the cup of tea nor do i share in a simple meal with the twin.
the home help decides that playing with soap suds in designer tops is the order of the day.
my darling twin tries to inform me of the rights i have within the house.
none it seems.
even in a home of sickies.
the home help is only there to help one sickie for god's sake.
even though one packet soup, one and a half jugs of water and a quick stir can be divided between two sickies.
i storm out at the daftness of it all.
blasted regulations of no home help you ain't signed up to that.
And oh, home help sort of didn't realize that twin may need lunch.
yep.
so we have a fun time trying to clarify the necessities of being sanctioned and ratified and registered and intelligent design.
Sort of thing.
The poor twin says its her fault.
it is not.
Its about intelligence. you have two people tired, shattered and sick and not feeling well and delinquent tired, and shattered and sick.
it takes intelligence to understand that two sickies on their respective beds may need a bit of packet soup with one and a half jugs of water and a five minute stir out of her two hours of allotted time with the twin.
nope.
I AM BEING REPORTED TO THE SERVICES FOR BLOWIN A GASKET ON THIS ONE!
yep.
all's fair in love and war they say.
yep.
they say!
awnyah will have her say.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
We get Dawn's We get freedom, we get Sunsets!
True! All Three. Beautiful.
never pin a wild woman down! Never box a Free spirit into a hole.
Never fight with a fighter especially a spirited one!
I say so, and definitely so.
So i am out...finally away from a lot of difficulties in my social housing unit.
I spirited my belongings, many my life's carefully written and painted belongings and many heavy and weighty ones as well. Down that there avenue with my wheelchair as a barrow, up and down, up and down and down and up again. my poor old people chariot is looking very very ricksaw like, and rickety.
the bolts and nuts will have to be re-bolted and nutted!
people did help but not often, the ones that did where not family but i call my little helpers as in personal assistants. one helped more than another but they all did a fair bit in the short time they had.
and they helped gladly.
my twin of course helped with her wheelchair taking up the rear on the trawl down that avenue, the one i hated so much but also the one i decorated and loved so much as edged in pinks and whites and pale blues and snappy dragons too. all cuttings taken and seeds too, for the next two years.
the sadness was most for what i was living behind of real value, the friendships with the wee children, who grew to love my chihauhaus and gained my trust, i also loved the birds, which were drawn to what i provided, the seeds and in the summer the muck and moss and the water bath. i had two nests from robin and blackbird.
i loved it there when my small yard was tropical in a temperate climate, lush my plants grew in a sort of protected ecosystem that oozed shelter, warmth and also held moisture for there was little drainage so during the growing period, plants grew.
i missed the swinging sparrows and the dive bombing of tiny coal tits and their quick retreat to safety. i miss the chirping on the high branches.
what i have not missed at all, is the drinking and the result of drinking. wailing male banshees.
verbal male drunks.
threatening male drunks and broken items, thrown items of eggs and hurley balls and even being shot at by the child on the wall.
i am out, no more bringing a hammer to bed, but peace.
here on top of this mountain i see the most glorious dawn, i never thought this was possible, for i had not seen such til today and yesterday and the past month. How can one reach 60 without seeing the sun rise over the sea and produce such grandeur? How can one watch enthralled, or snap enthralled as you run out at dawn to capture it with the camera, dressed like an oddity, in spotty jammy bottoms, followed by african dress and finally followed by the good old Dunnes Stores woolly dressing gown, woolly hat and mits finish off the nut and sheepskin boots finish off the bolt!
imagine now i drive away from my twins and i come to a hillside strewn with live sheep! not beer cans and fish heads as i drive away!
Here i do not see threat nor feel threatened.
Here i see beauty and hear peace.
i have discovered lovely neighbours for my twin and a new beautiful neighbour who i shall have shortly, if she stops falling onto the floor and no means of getting up unless helped and no means of that unless an older geezer than herself can get her up.
excitement in the possibilities of my new place.
60min makeover programmes watched in glee and wonder as i wonder how it will pan out for the last blast of live, my final attempt to make it happy, healthy and stress and fear free.
in other words, a thank you card to all that is good in life.
never pin a wild woman down! Never box a Free spirit into a hole.
Never fight with a fighter especially a spirited one!
I say so, and definitely so.
So i am out...finally away from a lot of difficulties in my social housing unit.
I spirited my belongings, many my life's carefully written and painted belongings and many heavy and weighty ones as well. Down that there avenue with my wheelchair as a barrow, up and down, up and down and down and up again. my poor old people chariot is looking very very ricksaw like, and rickety.
the bolts and nuts will have to be re-bolted and nutted!
people did help but not often, the ones that did where not family but i call my little helpers as in personal assistants. one helped more than another but they all did a fair bit in the short time they had.
and they helped gladly.
my twin of course helped with her wheelchair taking up the rear on the trawl down that avenue, the one i hated so much but also the one i decorated and loved so much as edged in pinks and whites and pale blues and snappy dragons too. all cuttings taken and seeds too, for the next two years.
the sadness was most for what i was living behind of real value, the friendships with the wee children, who grew to love my chihauhaus and gained my trust, i also loved the birds, which were drawn to what i provided, the seeds and in the summer the muck and moss and the water bath. i had two nests from robin and blackbird.
i loved it there when my small yard was tropical in a temperate climate, lush my plants grew in a sort of protected ecosystem that oozed shelter, warmth and also held moisture for there was little drainage so during the growing period, plants grew.
i missed the swinging sparrows and the dive bombing of tiny coal tits and their quick retreat to safety. i miss the chirping on the high branches.
what i have not missed at all, is the drinking and the result of drinking. wailing male banshees.
verbal male drunks.
threatening male drunks and broken items, thrown items of eggs and hurley balls and even being shot at by the child on the wall.
i am out, no more bringing a hammer to bed, but peace.
here on top of this mountain i see the most glorious dawn, i never thought this was possible, for i had not seen such til today and yesterday and the past month. How can one reach 60 without seeing the sun rise over the sea and produce such grandeur? How can one watch enthralled, or snap enthralled as you run out at dawn to capture it with the camera, dressed like an oddity, in spotty jammy bottoms, followed by african dress and finally followed by the good old Dunnes Stores woolly dressing gown, woolly hat and mits finish off the nut and sheepskin boots finish off the bolt!
imagine now i drive away from my twins and i come to a hillside strewn with live sheep! not beer cans and fish heads as i drive away!
Here i do not see threat nor feel threatened.
Here i see beauty and hear peace.
i have discovered lovely neighbours for my twin and a new beautiful neighbour who i shall have shortly, if she stops falling onto the floor and no means of getting up unless helped and no means of that unless an older geezer than herself can get her up.
excitement in the possibilities of my new place.
60min makeover programmes watched in glee and wonder as i wonder how it will pan out for the last blast of live, my final attempt to make it happy, healthy and stress and fear free.
in other words, a thank you card to all that is good in life.
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