another year later…

Another year gone by today…

I stopped celebrating birthdays years ago. My ex-wife liked to heap particularly nasty abuse on me on that day in particular.

This year is worse than usual. I am now homeless, broke and getting broker, sick and getting sicker and feeling completely alone in the town where I grew up.

The particularly ironic part is I just received a medal from our Senate for my contributions to the culture of our country and my efforts to advocate for better mental health care. If my efforts were so valued, why am I waiting for an intake interview?

It’s been clear to the three therapists I’ve seen that I am suffering from trauma-related illness, and that it has destroyed my life. Yet, if I say anything but I’m about to kill myself, no one in this province does anything either.

I feel a real mix of emotions regarding my country. Mostly empty kudos and awards just don’t seem to be worth anything when the same country that awards them ignores the basic NEEDS of its citizens…

Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate the efforts of the senator who put my name forward, I appreciate the support of all those who came to my shows, bought my CDs. When you dedicate your life to something and, in your twilight years, almost all of the people you worked with or for, your family and friends, turn their backs on you, it destroys what little self-esteem you’ve managed to hang on to.

Really leaves one wondering if there is any place in the world for one…

So I sit here, on a cot in a storage room. Most of my belongings are in a storage unit outside of town. I spend my days trying to find a place to live that I can afford now that the dr.’s have ‘retired’ me. With the right diagnoses and treatment I probably could work for another decade…but they’d rather replace me with a Millenial and let me live the rest of my life in abject poverty. O Canada, indeed…

…why do I have to lose everything?…

Been a while…things’ve never been so bad. I’m barely holding on and became aware of that fact for the most ironic of reasons…

A good friend came to visit me last week. When she arrived I considered feigning physical illness and refraining from seeing her. That’s how much I avoid people.

I am now back ‘home’. I use the term loosely as it is not home anymore. In fact I have no home, no friends, no hope…

Just planning my exit now…

…the twilight of my life, pt. 2…

It’s been a month since I was able to post. My health has taken a serious downturn. I am now facing packing and cleaning my apartment, moving 1500 miles to my island home and trying to find the money to pay for it. My landlady is harassing me on a daily basis. My anxiety levels have never been higher…

The trip was originally booked to go back for my son’s wedding, but the latest news from the (questionable) ‘medical professionals’ is not good. After 12 years of denying me the tests that would monitor my Frontotemporal lobar degeneration they have now (without the requisite PET scan or MRI) suggested that I may be in the advanced stages. Having waited 21 months they now inform me I would have to wait a minimum of 11 more months for test…then with no compassion whatsoever, the neurologist coldly informed me “but you may very well be severely disabled by that time”.

I have no support system here in my adopted home. I have been ostracized by my former friends due to my ex’s efforts (she has Borderline Personality Disorder and won’t go for treatment, the government and it’s supporting bureaucracy are unresponsive to requests for support, I have been denied social assistance and have little hope of a disability pension. My landlady is NPD and harassing me on a daily basis. So, I return to the poorest region of our nation to live out the remainder of my miserable existence in poverty and regret.

I hope I get to post again…

…why?…

What is a life? Is it a thing that exists outside of us or is it a part of us, just waiting to be tapped?

My life has been a series of a few perfect moments, joined together by pain, indecision, fatigue and disappointment. Perhaps most lives are like that…

Now, I am simply tired. No one calls, no one needs me. There is no joy in this miserable existence. Again, I look forward to the oblivion of death.

…don’t know what to say….

Tonight I can barely type…I’m having a panic attack that’s so bad, I can hardly find the words to describe it. My hands shake, my whole body tenses…I tremble like a leaf.

It’s difficult to describe these feelings to those that haven’t experienced them firsthand. At times, I wish I could record my actions, just to illustrate how debilitating this disorder can be.

At best, it carries all of the symptoms of depression and anxiety. It also mimics PTSD, although it has a very different root (the link above will explain). The World Health Organization defines it here.

Unfortunately, for those of us who suffer from this disorder in North America, our psychiatrists won’t recognize this disorder. Therefore, it is almost impossible to find treatment.

You can see just how frighteningly debilitating this is at bit.ly/2uY9bXC.