Category Archives: Mental Health

Car Trouble – It Came to Pass that…

My friend Tom came by this Sunday morning to take a look at the beast aka my car and decided the pictures I sent of the leak and the part it was leaking out of was accurate and my water pump was shot.

We filled the radiator with all the water it would hold and I hopped in the car and….. noticed that I had left the glove compartment open when I retrieved something from it the previous evening.

Being an old hand at dealing with the Universe’s efforts to get me, I keep a set of jumper cables in the trunk to discourage the Universe from trying to get me with a dead battery. A quick jump and I was racing off to Tom’s although it turned out not to require to much haste as the coolness of the weather allowed me to drive to Tom’s place without the engine getting more than barely warm .

For a while it looked like the Universe was going to be successful in getting me. Everything came apart with relative ease until the pulley that was the last barrier to removing and replacing the water pump, refused to be removed. Even after being blasted by butane torch.

Plan B required removing the alternator to get at and remove the plate blocking access to the last two bolts holding the water pump in place. Two of the three bolts that needed to be removed to remove the plate were awkward, the third was damn awkward.

The first two were removed and the third, obviously one of the Universe’s minions, refused to budge. With the difficulty in getting at the bolt it appeared it was going to be successful in thwarting replacement of the water pump.

However, the bolt and the Universe had vastly underestimated Tom. With the refusal to budge they had challenged Tom, not defeated him. So, girding his loins for battle Tom plunged back into the fray with single minded determination and………emerged victorious.

The bolt was removed and the old water pump freed.

Tom commented that he had never seen a water pump in as bad shape as this one was, with the pulley shaft flopping around through a wide range of motion. Apparently I had been driving on borrowed time for some time, with the cool weather serving to allow the engine to avoid overheating. When the bearings finally shifted enough to uncover the weep hole the water escaped, informing me I needed a new water pump.

Fate had been kind, having the weep hole open up as I was on Highway 1 nearing Clearbrook rather than in Surrey.

Tom called and spoke to someone he knew working at an auto parts store, arranging for me to pick up a new water pump.

On my way back with the pump I made a quick stop at the library to pick up the items waiting for me on the ‘hold’ shelf, including the DVD of the new Bond movie. Aaahhhhhhh, relief. After 5 consecutive days of being unable to visit the library or retrieve my holds I had feared I was slipping into withdrawal.

It only took a few minutes but added to the time being polite and observing good line etiquette at the store required the elapsed time had my phone ringing while I was still a few blocks from Tom’s. After pulling up and parking I checked my phone and it had indeed been Tom, wondering if I had been lost as he had applied the gasket cement and was anxious to have the gasket to put in place as soon as possible.

I didn’t check the phone until the vehicle was stopped because I strongly support paying attention to your driving. Not only with regard to handheld electronic devices but eating, applying makeup, doing paperwork and all the other myriad of ways humans find to distract themselves from their driving. If you think about it, the statistics on the use of handheld devices are frightening in light of the implications those statistics hold about the number of distracted drivers, their victims and accidents causing serious injury and death.

This plague of ‘I HAVE to take this’ is another aspect of the narcissism, the ‘it is all about me’, the ‘screw others’ that has infected Canada and Canadians. I would support adding confiscation of the device to the fines, since the fines don’t seem to have gotten people’s attention, although I think the confiscation should be permanent, not temporary.

Following that word from our sponsors common sense, courtesy and consideration for others, we return to our tale of Universe intrigue.

Opening the box containing the new water pump (the correct pump, human expertise defeating any machinations by the Universe to deliver the wrong pump into my hands) the gasket was removed and placed in position. The pump was removed from its sealed bag, lined up and the last bolts removed to remove the old pump became the first bolts put in place to begin installation of the replacement pump.

And so it went, installing the new pump by replacing the bolts and assorted parts (such as the alternator) in the reverse order in which they were originally removed.

Not surprisingly the installation reassembly proceeded much smoother than the disassembly removal had. Although reinstalling the belt was trickier that removing the belt had been, mainly as a result of the difficulty in getting enough slack from the belt tension mechanism to get the belt over the alternator pulley.

Until the last bolt, that had been there moments before when the reinstallation of the fan housing and the fan blades had begun, pulled a disappearing act. We sought it here, we sought it there, we looked high, we looked low But nowhere was it to be found.

The last piece of the reassembly was missing! It looked as though the Universe was going to get its last laugh and that I would need to visit an auto wrecker to find a replacement bolt and return to Tom’s later in the week to complete the final item of the installation of the replacement pump.

So we abandoned the search for the last bolt and proceeded to fill the cooling system with coolant and start up the engine. After letting the engine run for several minutes it was turned off and the radiator was topped off.

As he was topping off the radiator what should Tom’s eye spot but the last bolt hiding down among the engine parts. Grabbing his telescoping magnet tipped doohickey for retrieving bolts etc Tom plucked the bolt from its hiding place and quickly installed it.

Mission accomplished! Water pump replacement procured and secured in place.

But before i could leave Tom disappeared back to his collection of nuts, bolts, screws etc; returning with what appeared to be two wood screws. “Grab your front plate” he instructed, having noticed that I had lost the front licence plate holder but still had the front plate which was sitting in the front window. That’s the good thing about plastic bumpers he informed me as he proceeded to screw the front plate into position with the wood screws.

I was ready to hit the road………..after borrowing Tom’s battery charger to fully charge up the battery. Lest the Universe be tempted to use a dead battery on the morrow to leave me scrambling to get to my appointment at mental health and to the shelter to do intake.

After all, you’re not paranoid is the Universe really is out to get you.

Shaminder

I knew Shaminder Brar for close to a decade, starting at a point where I was homeless and on the streets of Abbotsford as a result of my own mental illness.

And while hearing of Shaminder’s death by hit and run, be it accidental or otherwise, did evoke a feeling of deep sadness, the feeling I most associate with thoughts and memories of Shaminder is pain.

Seeing the pain mental illness, self-medication through drug (legal and illegal) abuse and being a pretty young woman with an addiction inflicted on Shaminder, being witness to the slow striping away of Shaminder’s dignity and seeing her reduced to a husk, to the animal humans are at our most basic level……….was painful.

Painful not in the way of “breaking my leg was painful’, but painful in the sense of having a tiny piece of one’s humanity ripped away

I once spent close to four hours sitting in a small room in emergency at the old hospital with Shaminder and someone who, seeing the level of distress and pain Shaminder was in on that day, insisted on taking her to the hospital and press-ganged me into accomplishing this.

Four hours because that is how long it took emergency to find someone to help Shaminder and if we had not stayed with her, Shaminder would not have stayed either. More damning than the four hour wait was that even had Shaminder been capable of getting herself to the emergency ward at the hospital it is probable the behaviour and attitude of the staff would have sent her fleeing. It took the body language and attitude ‘you will provide help to this young woman or I will remove your head and get the help she needs from your replacement’ to motivate the staff.

During Fraser Health’s current fiscal year I have lost two people to suicide, and nearly lost a third, as a direct result of the rationing of mental health and substance use imposed by budget constraints.

So jumping on the “she was as much a casualty of the health care system as she was victim of any car accident” bandwagon is tempting.

I will not take the easy way out and jump on the bandwagon because it ignores the numerous other important factors that contributed to Shaminder’s Fate and, perhaps most importantly, it would be a terrible disservice to all the ‘Shaminders’ who remain in desperate need of help.

It is very easy to attack mental health because in matters like this their hands are literally tied behind them by privacy issues. The most that mental health can say is simply that there is a great deal of information and detail that the public is unaware of and will remain unaware of because of privacy laws.

I am in no way trying to absolve mental health and the Health Care system. They bear a share, perhaps the lions share, of responsibility for what aid Shaminder did not – and did – receive. But mental health does not bear sole responsibility. Responsibility for Shaminder’s Fate is shared widely and if our only reaction is to find someone to pin the blame on we are abandoning all those in similar circumstances as Shaminder was abandoned.

Although I in no way want to contribute to their pain, I could take some of the statements Shaminder made about her family, add in the psycho/social/bio realities of being human, mix in some rumour/innuendo and accuse Shaminder’s family of abandoning her to her mental illness, addiction and the streets of Abbotsford.

Or focus on the fact that while the Warm Zone helped keep Shaminder alive, it could be painted as enabling Shaminder and failing to build the bonds that would have helped Shaminder make healthier choices. One must not leave out all the other agencies and organizations whose stated purpose is to help those like Shaminder;  agencies and organizations that required Shaminder change to suit their needs rather than being flexible enough to adapt to Shaminder in order to meet her needs and that either enabled or failed to establish the needed working relationship – or both.

And if we are pointing fingers at government agencies that are charged with helping people who need help, where were social services during these years?

Then there was the Health Minister (now Finance Minister) Mike de Jong and the governing Liberal party, who for crass political reasons avoid addressing the growing problems/issues that are causing increasing failures of the healthcare system to deliver adequate healthcare.

These issues and problems threaten the nature and future of the healthcare system, but because addressing these issues and problems would involve telling voters unpleasant realities they do not want to hear – which voters punish by voting for the opposition – none of the current political parties has the leadership, intestinal fortitude, integrity or principles to act in the best interests of the citizens of BC rather than the (short term) best interests of the politicians of BC.

And then there is the major obstacle that Abbotsford City Council is to the homeless seeking to recover their lives. An obstacle that not only played a major part in this tragedy, but bears a major responsibility for additional lives lost over the years and will bear responsibility for lives lost in the future as a result of their behaviours.

It is a part that grows as the City steps up their harassment of the powerless, the homeless, social misfits and all those who not only will not conveniently disappear, but insist on resurfacing time after time after time after time…….

Without housing to act as a stable base, a foundation upon which to reclaim and rebuild her life, what chance did Shaminder have?

They speak of the homeless as failing to be ‘medication compliant’, but how can you be medication compliant when even the questionable stability of a camp as a place to have shelter from the elements, to sleep and to leave one’s meagre belongings is denied by a City Council that hunts you down and turns you out onto the streets of Abbotsford at the same time their actions deny housing for the hard to house?

Would being ‘medication compliant’ or keeping appointments be at the top of your ‘To Do’ list when you have no idea where you will sleep tonight, much less tomorrow or the day after tomorrow?

Survival topped my list. If I wasn’t so stubborn, a stubborness enhanced by Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Recovery and Wellness would not have remained on my ‘To Do’ list. And even when they remained on my ‘To Do’ list, it was only the good fortune to have a PDA (a Sony Clié) into which I could enter where and why I needed to be and set it to make sure I was reminded and had enough time to get where I needed to go……..

I have shared my “Theory of PDA Recovery” with various Case Managers at Mental Health, who acknowledge how useful a PDA would be to the homeless in making it to their appointments, taking their medications etc.

Stable, supportive housing can supply reminders and help in following the unique path that each person seeking Recovery and Wellness must find and follow.

There are solid reasons that the American Psychiatric Association recognizes ‘Housing First’ as an approach, perhaps the best approach, to helping the street entrenched homeless, the mentally ill, those abusing drugs (alcohol, prescription, the free enterprise street drugs) find their way to Recovery and Wellness.

Experience has demonstrated that, as counterintuitive as it may be, providing housing helps people to seek Recovery and Wellness quicker and provides support – a vital ingredient in finding Recovery and Wellness. Although given that human beings are involved, nothing should really be a surprise.

There are multiple targets to point fingers at and shout “J’ accuse”.

We have become a culture needing to find someone to blame and demonstrate our innocence, our lack of responsibility for the matter.

We seek someone to blame, make excuses, make it someone else’s fault and absolve ourselves of responsibility for causing The Matter – and perhaps for resolving the Matter?

Like the other major issues we seek to wilfully deny, avoid taking responsibility for correcting, do not want to hear or think about, want neat, easy, fast solutions………there is plenty of responsibility to go around among us all.

Society, the government is us. We have built the society we live in through our actions; we have gotten the government we deserve as a result of our actions.

Take a look around at ‘best practices’ for dealing with homelessness, mental illness and misuse of drugs of all stripes. We could make impressive progress in addressing these and other challenges we face today – if we where to choose to and if we were willing to make the commitments and do what is necessary.

But while we will complain, complain, complain……. we have become a province, a country, a society that seeks somebody to blame rather than accept responsibility for acting to correct what needs correction; a province, a country, a society that is unwilling to make any effort or sacrifice to address the growing number of issues that need our attention, decisions made and actions taken; that chooses not to see that the route to our wellness and prosperity requires that we renounce greed.

Insanity: doing the same thing over and over and over and over…..expecting a different outcome.

If we want outcomes different from those we are getting now, our actions and behaviours have to change.

To change our actions and behaviours we need to change ourselves.

We need leadership that, rather than encouraging the worst in us (for their personal benefit), challenges us to be the best we can be. We need New leadership that is not about racing to the bottom, but about struggling to the top.

We need to stop taking the path of less resistance, the easy way out and accepting the Lowest Common Denominator; we need to demand and strive for excellence from ourselves.

Rather than wilful denial of issues we need to return to what Canadians have always done when faced with daunting issues – whatever is necessary to overcome the obstacles.

An old Cherokee chief was teaching his grandson about life…

“A fight Between two wolves is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.

“One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, self-doubt, and ego.

“The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.

“This same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.”

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?”

The old chief simply replied, “The one you choose to feed.

Perfectly Rational, Totally Irrational

Having been a Chartered Accountant the financial, planning, management and leadership skills and abilities, together with experience, gained over a quarter century on this career path have proven useful in a broad array of areas and ways.

It does however, come with a few drawbacks I never would have anticipated having to deal with.

My income is fixed, has been fixed at the same level for the last 5+ years; my living and working expenses are few, straight forward and over the years have been creeping or leaping upward – a reality all Canadians are having to deal with. Have you checked the prices of yachts lately?

As a matter of mental wellness I have avoided putting pen to paper to draw up a budget. This decision is not about being in denial after all:

Reality does not care what you want to be true, it does not care what you believe to be true. Reality simply is. Tao of James

It is a decision about dealing with the reality I live with – depression, anxiety, panic and a propensity as an adult child of alcoholism for self sabotage.

Unfortunately with the fixed nature of revenue (income), the few expenses left after years of paring away expenses (haircuts, clothing, food, etc) and the fixed nature of many of the remaining expenses (insurance, phone, internet) budgeting and cash flow statements/analysis are so simple I can do them in my head.

Or more accurately I cannot NOT do budgets and cash flows in my head and so the train wreck that is the financial reality of my future is a constant and unavoidable awareness in my head. The slippage for phone and internet bills already has me slipping a few days later in paying them every month, with the point in time when I reach the point the services are terminated because I am too far behind inexorably moving nearer and nearer.

I watch the numbers unwind as more expenses must be shed until the point where revenue is sufficient to pay only the rent and I become in effect a prisoner in my home, unable to go anywhere except by walking. Which as a result of physical limitations and the pain that results from these limitations, places a maximum distance on travel of 100 – 200 meters.

Of course without food or the ability to obtain food the ability to pay the rent (at least as long as it does not go up) is rather moot. You can live homeless, you do not survive long foodless.

The inability to NOT have this awareness of budget and cash flow and the approaching ‘economic collapse’ and its (without a significant change in personal financial reality) inevitability has demanded and occupied space in the continuous awareness area of my mind.

I seem, at least for now, unable to put this awareness aside and focus on getting on with life.

Instead I find myself wanting to get out from under the stress, wishing that my ‘stuff’ was in storage and I could ‘solve’ the approaching time when economic reality exerts its negative consequences on my life by moving out from under the looming crash and into my car.

Circumstances had me living in my car before so there is no fear of the unknown, I know what needs to be done to survive living in your car. Indeed services added since I was last living in my car make living in your car simpler and more doable today.

In a way living in your car simplifies your life because you have to focus on doing what you need to in order to survive.

At some point either a rent increase or the need for food will force me out of my home and either into my car or onto the street.

There is a great deal to be said for choosing when, rather than waiting until there is no choice (based on the experience of having reached that no choice point).

Ironically a move to the car improves cash flow as one loses the $375 rent portion of revenue but gains the cash difference between the $375 and actual rent paid.

One of the real advantages for me of having a fixed address is internet access, an access that will in the near future be lost as it is the next item on the chopping block of financial expenditure reductions necessity. Which means internet access must be obtained at the library and the major incentive for struggling to preserve having a ‘home’ ceases to exist.

When the only use made of home becomes as the place one sleeps, is the money spent on gas to drive ‘home’ and the money spend on a ‘home’ that could be available for keeping the car in shape and running or to meet emergencies, a wise use of extremely limited financial resources?

Consider as well that I have no land line phone service. My only phone is a cell phone which is not only mobile (a service seeming designed for those with non fixed address) but provides email and messaging.

There are other points one can cite in support of choosing to join the growing community of people in Abbotsford whose automobile has become, among its other attributes, their home arguably a perfectly rational choice.

Yet friends, mental health professionals and others maintain that even thinking about abandoning my home, moving into and living in my car is totally irrational thinking.

Which is what I would be telling someone else if they were thinking of surrendering and moving into their car. That they needed to keep working and plugging away at things and see what develops or happens to change their financial circumstances (employment etc).

But watching the numbers and the future unroll in my mind makes the struggle with depression, anxiety and the urge to panic an ongoing, daily battle complicated by an ongoing struggle not to give into an act of self sabotage.

Living with mental illness and the quest for mental wellness is enough of a challenge on its own.

I really don’t need the additional headaches and stress that come with constant awareness of the budget and cash flow realities and the inevitable negative consequences of this financial future.

At times the urge to panic, to escape is overwhelming – no matter how irrational those actions would be.

I really wish……but then……

Reality does not care what you want to be true, it does not care what you believe to be true. Reality simply is. Tao of James

Some days, to many days, running down the middle of the road trying to pull my hair out and screaming Arrrggggghhhhhh seems so appealing – and so rationally irrational.

Johnny Winter – Livin’ the Blues

It had been so long since I had been able to go to a venue to enjoy a musician I liked live that I had forgotten the sheer pleasure, the joy, to be found in great music played LOUD. Played at a volume where the music hammers into and through you and sets your very core to vibrating in tune with the music.

From the moment that Johnny Winter’s band of Paul Nelson (guitar), Scott Spray (bass) and Vito Liuzzi (drums) were introduced and began to play – before Mr. Winter joined them on stage at the end of that first number – you knew you were in for a treat for the ears and the soul.

The first notes they played drove all thoughts but ‘man, are they tight’ out of your mind and made for an evening of spectacular music.

It was not the quality of the music that was the most impressive part of the evening. You expect great music from Johnny Winter. What strikes you is the seeming effortlessness with which Mr. Winter displays his mastery of the guitar, calling forth the musical sound that affirms him as a virtuoso.

From the opening notes played by the three members of Johnny Winter’s band to the final notes of Highway 61 the evening was a musical tour de force that left you energized, with a huge smile on your face and a joy that could be heard in your voice.

Nanaimo’s Mr. David Gogo’s solo acoustic blues was the perfect opening act for the evening. His solo acoustic performance allowed him to demonstrate his own mastery of the blues and the guitar without competing or being contrasted with Johnny Winter.

Switching back and forth between his two acoustic guitars Mr. Gogo demonstrated why he has ten albums under his belt and an impressive list of nominations and awards.

Mr. Gogo’s set was such that the first thing I did upon returning home was to go online to the Library to see which of Mr. Gogo’s ten CDs were available to be reserved, taken out and listened to.

It was a greatly enjoyable evening of outstanding music enhanced by the venue, Mission’s Clarke Theatre, were there were nothing but good seats.

One of the reasons that poverty grinds away at the spirit is that the revitalization of one’s soul and spirit that simple pleasures such as this evening of great Blues music with Johnny Winter and David Gogo provide is beyond one’s reach. While the price was incredibly reasonable for the music delivered by the performers, it might just have as well have been $10,000 for its lack of affordability on my budget.

The pleasure, joy, relaxation and memories provided me by the evening’s music came to me courtesy of an early Christmas present. Meaning that whatever else happens Christmas 2010 is already a great success in terms of gifts.

Thanks to Mr. Winter, Mr. Gogo and Mr. Earl for a most joyful, exhilarating evening of Smokin’ Blues.

Post Post Script

Post Post Script to Is? or Is Not?

Surviving the period between Thursday and Tuesday was an interesting exercise in not losing control. ‘Don’t do anything stupid or self sabotaging’ was a well used mantra as the stress kept trickling adrenalin into my system threatening to turn anxiety into Panic.

When Tuesday finally arrived it developed that there was no cheque waiting. Upon hearing this, panic kicked my anxiety, panic and flight response into overdrive and all I wanted to do was bolt. As I started to do just that, the person I was speaking with spoke telling me to stay while he checked the status.

Hanging grimly onto the vestiges of self control, I was informed that they were running about 4 days behind and my PPMB was awaiting final approval. There was no way to tell when that would occur so I needed to check back daily.

He did say I could phone in but when I am running along the edge between anxiety and panic it is far easier to go down in person that it would ever be to phone, to use the phone period.

Wednesday, after another long, nerve wracking, panic inducing wait I was informed that the cheque for $47 had been mailed out; $47!!!??? – It was quite an adrenaline rush that triggered.

I am not sure what the thinking, or non-thinking, behind mailing out a rent cheque for September on September 1st is.

$47? I was beginning to reconsider the question of whether the Universe really was out to get me.

The nice lady I was speaking with checked the file and found an error had been made in making the calculation of the amount of the adjustment and that it should have been $500 higher. She went out of her way to get a cheque printed off and in my hands right then and there. Which is just as well as it is the weekend (Saturday September 4) as I write this update and the mailed out first adjustment cheque is still in the mail.

Strange, but the error in calculating the adjustment was a good thing as I was able to take the 2nd adjustment cheque to the bank, cash the cheque, top the cheque amount up from my account and pay the rent.

With the matter resolved I … sat on the couch and melted into the couch as the adrenaline tap was turned off and my system crashed in response. Whether caffeine, amphetamine or adrenaline – when the stimulant driving the body ends the body wants its recovery rest/nap/sleep.

Since that evening it has been a balancing act*, managing between my body and mind wanting to rest and recuperate and the words (of which these are a small part) screaming to get free – out onto the page, the internet and wherever else they can find a home or a mind.

For Your Information: a short nap befell the author between the writing and the editing of these words.

While the Universe may not be out to get me it certainly seems to be out to toy with me – or should that be Test me?