Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Time Passes

How fast time goes by.

How is it that I'm an old woman now?

Most of my life was wasted away in the grip of the mental health system.  It was a useless and meaningless existence.

My body wasted away then too under the effects of those terrible drugs, often forced upon me, by the caseworkers.  The drugs ballooned my weight, increased my blood pressure, and further lowered my self esteem and ability to think.

I wonder why they still drug people to the hilt and stick them in little tiny holes to live, alone and without work or meaning.  That is not physically or mentally healthy.  I thought by now the system would see the light, and understand what makes others healthy and happy, stands true also for those labeled mental.

But no.

I had to find my own way out, and I did, somewhat, not completely, with a little help from a beating on a psyche ward, that did more than pound my head physically, it pounded some sense into me.  I saw the light, that I would be dead soon if I didn't escape.  That's why I say my real life began in 2001.  I've now had 15 years of real life, for which I am grateful.  Many of those first years were spent recovering from surgeries to repair spinal damages.  I suffer many maladies, some leftovers from the beating and damage done, that went too long, and other painful conditions that make life sometimes "challenging".

I escaped with the help of the river cats.  Vision, one of my original family, is still with me, at 22 years of age.  The river cats showed me love and I got a purpose when I started getting them fixed, one by one, when I didn't even have a car.

It seems like yesterday that all happened.  But it wasn't yesterday, or even the day before.   Days and years seem stacked like cards, and not a high stack either.  I can flip back to relive something like it was indeed yesterday.  I wish years gone by, seemed like ancient history, something cloudy and distant and blurred.  Might make age easier.  Time is just a counting measure.  Wear and tear breaks down our bodies and kills us. If accidents don't first.

My body is worn out, to be sure, from the abuses of a hard life.  Lately, with my shoulder blade twitching and clamping across my back like a vise, creating a pain that is frightening in intensity, I become introspective.

In the system, my friends died like flies.  Some died due to drug interactions and many to suicide.

Lately, I lose friends to older age issues--heart failure, cancer, stroke, car crashes.  Friends have adult children with severe drug issues, and I don't know what to say when they talk about them.   I know that must be difficult.  I have a friend with early onset Alzheimer's, a disease that steals so many and seems many are stricken at earlier and earlier ages.

We lost Bill Johnson last week.  I remember his daring and brash run to the finish in the men's downhill way back when he was young and I was also.   I loved watching him ski.  I knew from his cocky arrogance he'd be a hard person to live with, but man alive, he messed with the heads of competitors and had absolutely no fear.

Everyone cheered his comeback at age 40.  If anyone could do it, it was Bill Johnson.  When he crashed and sustained that head injury, it was like poking a reality hole in the dream balloons of middle agers.  Bill Johnson died an extended difficult death last week, suffering severely, unable to swallow in the last two weeks.  He still wanted to win the race, beat the odds.  He did not go quietly.

Here's to you, Bill Johnson.

The wildlife refuge standoff continues, although many of the leaders have been arrested.  One died in the traffic stop that was conducted last night in eastern Oregon as militant leaders traveled north from the refuge and on north of Burns, headed to John Day, hoping to find a more sympathetic audience there, at a meeting.  That man who died when allegedly two of the militants resisted arrest, was younger than I, but not by many years, and had vowed he would not live the rest of his life in a concrete cave, (prison cell).  Can't blame him there.  He said, while still at the refuge, if the FBI came, he would not be taken alive.  He got his wish.

 I wish those still at the refuge would just go home, give it up.  Most of them are from out of state.  No more bloodshed.   They could not have believed, if they were sane, that their takeover of a wildlife refuge, intimidation of locals, and employees, would result in anything good for them.

That's all for today.  Even "winged" as I am, litter boxes still must be cleaned.  I better get to it.


  1. Your's is a powerful story that shows even from the worst of circumstances, there can be a future. I'm glad that cats were there to give you a purpose, you were there to give them a life.

  2. Some pretty heavy topics here.... sometimes I wonder how any of us survive past infancy... seems there is always something lurking out there ready to get us.... mentally or physically....

    1. It's a crap shoot for sure.

  3. The wildlife refuge story is now being reported here

    1. Is it? It's so sad, as some have refused to leave and had a live feed going on youtube off and on, with seriously mental sounding rants, urging others to come, to kill cops and feds at roadblocks. They want to die. It's like watching a movie and you know the ending, only these are real people, no actors, and I want to shake them, and say "go home, you're suicidal".

  4. Thanks for the inside look at your history.

    1. Well, not such a pretty life, but lots have had it much harder.