The Bin Woman Returns

Here I am.
Alive and in one piece.
(at least I think so....at last count anyway).
I spent a week and a day in the psych unit of a local hospital.  I guess that is no surprise to those of you who caught an eyeful of my last couple of posts.

They kept me intact while they messed with my medications--eliminating the mood stabilizer and tripling the dose of one of my antipsychotic meds.  There was an initial debacle while the doctors had to "test the waters" and see whether my problem was psychosis or delirium from my pain medications.  They finally saw for themselves that this was not the case (at my expense....the expense of some very painful days while they withheld pain meds).

I would have to say, were I a betting person, that I'm still inclining to the paranoid side.  My huge amount of relief today to hear the words, "Would you like to go home?" was largely the consequence of my eagerness to escape the brain games and the huge mind **** that I felt was taking place on that unit.  I believe with all my heart that a good number of the nurses hated my guts and that the doctor was not so fond of me either.  I couldn't wait to get away from that sense of being watched...that hyper-vigilance that was so necessary to keep my head above water....to avoid drowning in the morass of scowls and whispers to the "aside" that I constantly felt were aimed in my direction.

Anyway.
Enough of that.

Why am I struggling to put a sentence together? Why is English suddenly my second language?? Does it seem that way to you?  Maybe it's because I've not sat at a keyboard for over a week and have spoken very little also during that time, so the effort of formulating coherent sentences is suddenly a great difficulty for me.

Please bear with me while I get my equilibrium together again.
Also, here's a promise: I will be re-designing my blog again very soon.  WHAT was in my mind to choose an Autumn design when it was mid-July???  Somehow that detail had escaped me.  Well, I will make it right soon enough.  First I need to open that 6" high stack of bills and EOBs that await me on the kitchen table.

OH, and why the title "the Bin Woman Returns"??  My husband's ex-best-friend in the period of our courtship liked to call me The Bin Woman, with a eye toward my numerous prior psych hospitalizations.
So yep.  SHE'S BAAAack!

An End to Meaning

shortsighted delivery.  Images beckon and compel. I'm going to hell, dripping off the face of the sane, inane world into a land of shadows and shrieks.  Oh God, hold your daughter, save from the ravages of a brain askew.  Hell here and now.
I would tell you; but I can't.
I would bring you - but oh,  you'd run.

I would show you, but you would squint your eyes
....blinded by sheer brilliant insanity.

don't forget me while I'm gone
save a place, warm

And if I'm gone; then I'm Home.

pop

Ok...this is a dartboard..littered with lettered balloons.  Aim > Throw.. you missed.
Death to meaning.
Stupid me for having no one.
Music is hurting my brain. And that's not all.
I don't want to go out in a blaze...how about in a blur? frankincense and myrrh...welcome to the stop before hell.

sorry. I shouldn't have begun what I can't finish.

Writing on the Blank Slate of Today

ok. First matter of business: Frank Peretti, you are forgiven. Illusion was an amazing, remarkable book and in fact, was the best one I've read in a long time.

That night though....the night before last, was horrible.  Paranoia unabated, with no one there to reassure me and to tell me all was well and all was going to stay well, is sheer misery.

Today, the day stretches in front of me....an interminable expanse.  I can't "paint" on my computer because the laptop I'm currently using doesn't have the software on it in order to do my virtual artwork. I'm waiting for my new laptop to arrive (a Toshiba Satellite C series) which is going to be a very cool piece of equipment.  I've customized it and upgraded it so that it's gonna be fast and have a ton of memory.  I
managed to swing that via a loan from my dad which I will pay off as quickly as I can.  Once I get that then I can load all of my ArtRage, Adesso, and PsE8 software and then I'm in business.  I really hate the process of getting a new computer up to speed...getting everything loaded on it and whatnot, but it's a necessary part of life these days, isn't it?

Maybe I will invite my friend and her kids over to use the beach in my community.  I've never even been there other than to drive by it. I tried walking there two years ago, but it was too far for me to make it--even back then and in good shape.  Of course the question exists, "Do I have a bathing suit big enough to contain my booty?" LOL (I was going to say "beauty" and decided "booty" was more appropriate :) )

I just saw a quote from Francis Chan on Facebook., "Every single thing you do in your life, apart from loving God and loving his people, is a waste of time."  So as I'm considering what to do with  my day, maybe I should keep that in mind also.  I wondered how all of our  lives would change were each of us to approach our days with that quote in the forefront of our minds?

The Paranoid LIfe

I'm reading a book called Illusion, by Frank Peretti.  The story is intriguing and the characters likable.  The problem is that there are these people who are --well, mysterious, and it's not clear whether they are purely evil or whether they have something else motivating them.  I read the book for a good portion of today and finally had to put it aside, shaking.  You see you can't tell in the book who can be trusted and who is evil.  And one person after another is revealed to be  "in on it"...some huge secret/mystery of which the reader and the main characters are innocent.  It got to me.  It got to me badly, because now I'm examining my life, wondering who's in on it here too.

I finally got into bed and put earbuds on blasting my favorite playlist.  But the thoughts won't be silenced.  The phone rang.  I jumped three feet in the air.  (Our phone doesn't ring all that often). It was an unknown male voice, asking for me.  That alone is suspect.  Any stranger calling here would definitely want to speak to Eric not me.  Then I thought, "Maybe something's happened to Eric and this is the police calling to inform me."

"Who is this?" I demanded.

The man said something in an unintelligible accent.  Something about "I can save you money".I said, "I'm not interested"and started to hang up. Then the man said, "  you live at XXXXXXXX? right?"  And I said ,
"No, they changed our address when 911 came."   So the man said ,'Oh, what is your new address?"  I said to him, "Who are you and how do I know you are who you say you are?"
He said, 'Ma'am. this is the electric company " (and he named the company)....He then proceeded to ask me a ton of questions about my house.  Which I answered, simply because I couldn't bring myself to be rude enough to hang up, even though I was shaking.  After I hung up, the doubts and fear came.

What if that wasn't the electric company?....And now they  know not only where I live but the complete makeup of our house and how many people live here....

Now  some teeny deeply buried part of me knows--or at least suspects--that these are not legitimate worries. But ALL of the rest of me is in a complete panic.
Thanks Frank.

Doing the Work of God

Doing the Work of God

While normally that phrase would bring positive thoughts and applause, there are times when to do the work of God is downright sinful. 

I encountered one of those times today when I found myself doing it.  Let me give  you an example,  suppose we have a great need.  It’s a need way beyond our ability to meet.  So we pray about it….maybe.  But then we go around to every Tom. Dick and Harry and broadcast our need….Perhaps we even coat our blatant cry for help in a prayer request.

“Tom can you please remember this in prayer? We have such an such a need and have no means of meeting it. Can you pray that God will make a way for us?”

And if we are really wallowing in sin, we are completely conscious of what we are doing and are hoping that Tom will feel the prod of “God” to meet my need.  When in fact it is my prod and his guilty conscience that is doing the work…God has nothing at all to do with it.

A while ago…My husband and I had a need.  It was, for us, a huge need. And no matter how we tried using the common venues such as getting a loan etc…nothing we did was working.  Now, at about that time, this whole concept had been put on my heart and I realized with no little guilt that I’d been guilty of this very sin…sometimes unconsciously,…but sometimes I admit, with a secret wish that the person to whom I shared my need would step in and meet it.  So this time I decided to do it differently.  I didn’t tell anyone…except my father who knew of our situation anyway—and he was unable to meet our need. This I knew to be a fact.  So I kept our need quiet.  I did ask for prayer for an unspoken request…but beyond that I was quiet.  And I dug my hole of faith even deeper by telling my unbelieving husband of what I was doing so that the answer that came would be pure God. 

The clock ticked and ticked and it came down to the last possible day when if we didn’t come up with a solution, disaster would strike.

And the answer came.  In a glorious, best of all possible ways for us.  My husband and I wept in our relief.  And another brick was laid in my “Faith Wall”—the  monument God is building in my heart to strengthen and grow my faith.

Now, today, I faced a different situation.  I don’t want to lay it out here because that would defeat my very purpose.  Leave it to say that I trusted God in an act I performed.  And then tried to fill that hole in my resources by asking for help from a friend…and really it was for no good reason.  Yes, I have a need…but it is a teeny tiny need—one of comfort not of necessity.  And the thought came to me, “I shall not offer God a sacrifice that costs me nothing.”  If God wants to meet that need, then he will.  If he doesn’t then I will praise him for the opportunity to suffer loss for his sake.

So you see, there are many ways in which we can step in and do God’s work for him.  On the other hand there are legitimate times when God speaks to us to meet the need of a friend or an organization, when he wants us to be his hands and feet.  But we need to pray carefully to discern whether this is OUR work , or God’s we are doing.  And if it is God’s it had better be in the correct sense.

Getting it Done

 It's Sunday.
So far I have done a breathing treatment,
had a very healthy smoothie,
and pedaled on the recumbent bike for 20 minutes
The remaining goal that I have for the day is to hit 3000 steps....maybe I'll do the treadmill later if I need some help with that.

I finally got to the point where I am completely disgusted by my eating habits...They do not make sense, They are not in line with my body's needs or my health goals.  And Yes, I hurt.  And Yes, Moving Hurts.  But heck, so does sitting still.  So really......

It's not fun to want something desperately and then to act in a manner that completely belies your desire.  It's not fun to want something desperately and then to completely sabotage my own efforts to get it.  It's not only not fun.  It's downright stupid.  And being stupid is embarrassing.  I'm tired of embarrassing myself.  Of being embarrassed BY myself.

Cuz face it, after awhile, every time you start talking about how "this time is different.  This time I will succeed" and then after a day or two you fall on your face...well, eventually people start either laughing or else they just wave their hand in a "yeah sure, tell me another story" gesture and go on their way.  It was  the same when I quit smoking.  I quit smoking at least 1,050 times.  And my efforts would last anywhere from 45 minutes to 2 days. (and they were USUALLY closer to 45 minutes than to two days)...It became a joke.  NO ONE thought I would ever do it.  I'd psyched myself up SO many times, only to fall flat on my face, no one ever thought there would come a day when I can say, as I can today, '

"FOLKS, IT'S BEEN 16 YEARS AND ONE MONTH SINCE I HAD MY LAST CIGARETTE."

I did it.
I succeeded at doing what is supposedly almost impossible for a person with SZ to do.  That is because for us, cigs are a form of self medication and we are addicted to them many times more than the average person is addicted.

How did I do it?
Persistence.

Every time I fell flat on my face, I picked myself up, brushed off my determination and went at it again.
And now my eating habits have become something along those same lines.  Day after day, week after week, on Spark People, I publish in my blog there my determination to lose this weight.  My absolute bedrock agreement with myself to exercise and eat right.  And every time, thus far, I've fallen flat on my face. (in the past year and a half.  Two and  a half years ago, I'd lost 70 lbs. by making healthy choices.)  And that's really all it is.  A healthy choice.  one healthy choice at a time. I don't  need to look at the close to 100 pounds I would like to lose (or at least 70)...I just have to look at what I'm doing in the minute I 'm in and make sure it's the right thing.

This goes for anyone trying to accomplish or give up any thing. Persist.  Make one healthy choice in the minute you're in .And eventually if you do not listen to the nay-sayers and the haters....if you do not listen to your own misgivings...and hateful self-talk....eventually you WILL get it done.  Whatever it is.

If I can do it; so can you.

Honestly....

I frequent some forums for mentally ill people.  I've also been around them at different times in my life. (and if you are new to this blog, I have schizophrenia, so I also have some personal experience.).  One of the things I hear most often on these forums is the wish being expressed for a romantic relationship.  Sometimes this is merely a wish for a sexual encounter and sometimes it is the desire for someone to share the struggles we face; to provide security and housing; and just to have someone who understands.

Well.  As a person who has been married to the same man for 23 years, I can speak honestly when I say that marriage may not solve any of those problems. A partner can be burnt out; not have a clue what we are going through; not be attracted physically; and can be really disrespectful of their partner's intelligence and their feelings. And there is always the chance that homelessness can occur as well.

And what do you give up when you say "I do," or have someone move in, or even just have a serious relationship?

You give up your right to live your life as you want to....or in the manner that you are able to.
You are now responsible to hold up your end of the bargain as much as possible in sharing of cooking and chores and yardwork...whether you are able to do it or not.  You may also be expected to bring home an income.  You stand a good chance --unless the partner shares the same mental illness as you do-- of being looked down on as though you are deficient, or less intelligent...even if that is not the case at all.  If all you are able to do is to sit and stare at a wall, as has been the case for me at times, don't expect the partner to like it or to understand or even to tolerate it. You may be demeaned.  Spoken to harshly.  You may be more alone than you ever were when you were really alone.

Now this is not always the case.  I know of people, even people who are married to "normals" who have wonderful relationships with their spouses.  But I would be pretty close to the truth if I told you that that is the exception rather than the rule.  Do not ever be surprised in the heat of an argument if you are called "Crazy" or worse....Do not be surprised if nothing you say has any validity or weight.  Do not be surprised when your freedom to make decisions about your care is taken away...

Yeah, sometimes there are good things that come out of a relationship...but you really have to ask yourself if you are willing to gamble with the possibility of having a relationship such as is described above.  Is it a chance you are willing to make?  If it isn't ...then settle for being friends with someone and leave it at that. Friendships are easier to walk away from if they go bad than are marriages.

A Week in the LIfe of....

Please forgive me for my silence.  I began to write a post yesterday and it turned into something that was only suitable for my online journal.....which is marked "private." 
This past week my husband was away from last Sunday until he came back with my kids last night. (Thursday)..
The first night passed without incident.  The second night however I struggled mightily with the old delusion/hallucination I had months ago which made me really really believe that someone was breaking into my house.  I heard them come in.   I saw them pass by my bedroom door.  I was terror-stricken.  My chat-friend and I had already said good night, but I grabbed my computer and typed..."Are you still here?? Please still be here!!"  And thank the Lord! She was!

Her first impulse was to tell me to call the police and have them come and check...but the problem with that is that the only thing I fear as much as robbers is; POLICE. lol. (quite a bind, eh?)  I have some powerful ideas about police also, many of them based on multiple encounters with them through the many psychotic periods of my life.  So .  No.  Not calling police.

I would have called the security guards for our housing development...but their phone # was in the kitchen and NO way NO how was I going to leave the safety of my bedroom to go out into the kitchen and possibly encounter the thieves face to face.  So as I talked to my friend, Vicki, it eventually became apparent to her that this was NOT a real threat but a delusion being backed up by hallucinations.  So we abandoned the police idea and just focused on how to get me through it.  She suggested I put on my headphones and listen to music....When I did that...music on full volume., and could STILL hear scary things, I began to understand that there really was no real danger except my misfiring neurons...So I cranked the tunes and sometime later, fell asleep.

Then yesterday morning, I could not get awake. In fact I fell asleep in the midst of a chat conversation and the person was so worried they called me, waking me from a deep sleep , and scaring the life out of me, causing a terrible fumble to try to find the phone....all to say, "I"M SLEEPING"
Then through out the entire day yesterday, I could NOT keep my eyes open no matter WHAT I did.  I literally slept the entire day...I moved from chair to chair to bed to chair...and fell asleep instantly in each one.I thought with some consternation that I had taken my morning meds twice...Which could have caused me major health issues and possibly death(??).  However, because I have a  new handi-dandi pill carrier, I was able to check and see that NO, I did NOT take them twice or too close together.  While this was somewhat reassuring, it left me with some concern as to why I could  not stay awake.  I hope today is better.

I understand completely that this was a very boring post.  I apologize. I didn't know which was worse, boredom or silence.  I promise to do better next time :)

Holey Faith

I feel lost.  I feel like I do not know who I am. Sometimes I question whether I've been at all successful in living out the standards and exhibiting the qualities I most highly esteem.  Am I a big pile of self-delusion?

Today I was meditating on a verse and I was thinking about "Belief" or "Faith"...So many of us blithely say, we believe Christ died for our sins and that means we no longer bear the guilt of them...But then we (or at least me, I shouldn't speak for others) still live under condemnation.  I still feel foul and guilty.  I struggle before God with a constant sense of unworthiness.  So does it not appear that I am not believing the very thing I claim to espouse?

Today I was reading Ps 32:1-2...

Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sins are covered. Blessed is the man whose sin the Lord does not count against him and in whose spirit is no deceit. 

And I thought what would I be like, how would I be different if I believed that with every square inch of my body and in every corner of my spirit?

And what about the idea that there is another place, perhaps in another dimension, or perhaps high up in space somewhere where our loved ones are who really truly knew Jesus.  And there are the saints of Scripture up there as well.  Do I really truly believe that?  Sometimes I think of it and the oddness of the whole idea strikes me.

And what about Jesus, returning...descending out of the sky to come and get those of us who are on the earth...and we will float up through the sky???

Now before you go pitching me to the whales ...let me get where I'm going.
We as humans, like stories.  Some of us like fairy tales and some of us like science fiction.
And I think it's easy to fall prey to the "story mentality"...it's easy to believe in the story...but do we believe in the REALITY??  I feel the need to meditate on this and to test myself as to how far my faith goes.  Because it seems to me that if I were really believing with every inch of my soul, that I would be a very different person.

It seems to me that every deficit of character implies a deficient faith.
And because sometimes I can be a real bitch, I think that somewhere there is a hole in my faith....because if I really TRULY bought all that the Bible says, I would be changed.  Completely  Radically changed.



_________________________________________________________
(written later)
In a conversation with a friend I was trying to nail down more firmly what it was that I was attempting to say in this blog and I made this statement...and then follows her response
me:  Yes...I' do believe it ...and I believe it with my life....but sometimes it just BLOWS MY MIND what God says is coming and what the Bible teaches is reality

and sometimes I just am so blown apart by it, I wonder if I am fully fully believing and understanding all of the implications of that

 Sent at 12:29 PM on Tuesday

 Vicki:  I think your question indicates your total belief in it. We are human and know we have difficulty sometimes forgiving 'sins' against us. Thus our humanity causes us to question, even though we believe.

 

 

So there. You don' t have to worry that I've wandered into apostacy. I'm still here. STill believing.

A Desert Lesson

Photograph by Sam Abell

I was just looking over some verses I'd memorized a couple of years ago, to refresh them in my mind....and came across two of them from the book of Deuteronomy in the Torah ...and was suddenly struck by a new understanding contained within them...a deeper look at the heart of God to us as expressed in his discipline, or in our pain and suffering.  And by the way, "discipline" does not necessarily mean an action of harshness taken by God against us in response to a specific sin.  Music is a discipline.  Mathematics is  a discipline.  In other words, discipline is something we need in order to master a skill.  In this case, to rightly love our God; to successfully survive the hardships of this fallen earth.  To be a good son or daughter of the living God.  Or perhaps just to successfully live out our lives on this earth.

Deut 23:5

But the Lord thy God turned the curse into a blessing unto thee, because the Lord thy God loved thee.

God changed the curse of the Fall and the curse of sin into a blessing for us. He did this by making His flesh and blood to be  a curse in our place. (  Galatians 3:13 Christ has redeemed us from the curse of the law, having become a curse for us ((for it is written, “Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree”)) ), The gift of redemption is so precious that it was worth the agony of suffering it brought about.  How else would we ever have any clue how much the Lord God loves us?  This is a very succinct explanation of the problem of pain and suffering… The comfort and expense to God on our behalf is so very valuable that our curse becomes blessing to us.

And Deut 8:2-5

You shall remember all the way which the Lord your God has led you in the wilderness these forty years, that He might humble you, testing you, to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep His commandments or not. He humbled you and let you be hungry, and fed you with manna which you did not know, nor did your fathers know, that He might make you understand that man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by everything that proceeds out of the mouth of the Lord. Your clothing did not wear out on you, nor did your foot swell these forty years. Thus you are to know in your heart that the Lord your God was disciplining you just as a man disciplines his son.

In Deut 8:2-5, verse five gives us the key to the meaning of the verses.

Thus you are to know in your heart that the Lord your God was disciplining you just as a man disciplines his son

The verses speak of the difficulties faced in the desert but also of the miraculous provision of God for his children in the midst of their hardship.  THUS is his discipline: the discipline of a loving father to a wayward child.  He softens the blow so that it shall not be unbearable.  Not only did they have food and drink, and clothing, but their feet did not swell. 

And the purpose of the discipline?  (and what is discipline but the pain and suffering we encounter in the world following our fall into  sin):  To humble us and to test us to see what is in our heart.

How does it humble us?  --The graces of God to us in our sin-stained undeserving state bring us low in the face of the bigness of the heart of our God toward us.

How does it test us? – God waits to see what we focus on.  The hunger? Or the manna.  The long hard trip and its difficulties?  Or the provision along the way with which the Lord blesses us.  Will we remain faithful and understand the big picture of what it is he is doing?  Do we trust him despite the apparent “unfairness “ of suffering?  Will we remain faithful and focus on his love?  Will we look beyond the pain to see the heart of God?

I hope my musings have brought you to a deeper understanding of the heart of our God.  He does not allow His children (those who have accepted the benefit of the work he did for us on the cross) to experience pain needlessly or without a blessing wrapped up in it somewhere.  It is true sometimes that we will never know the specifics of the "why" of our pain...just as God never filled Job in on the reason for his agony.  All we need to know...just all it was all Job needed to know....is the bigness of our God and the depths of his love for us, as expressed in his provisions to us in the midst of our suffering.  God wants us to look at our pain with a  faith filled heart.  A heart that says, "Yes, this hurts.  But because I know of the goodness of my God, I will not despair, but will patiently wait to see the blessings he will bring to pass through it.  I will wait, even if it is until I get to heaven, to understand the goodness of the reason behind it."

Book on the Way Soon!

Today was a sad-ish day. It was the Fourth of July...and things are such in my home that celebrations do not take place....except for some half-hearted efforts at cheer on Christmas.  I could have gone out to a pool party barbeque, but for me to sit on lawn chairs is impossible and the house was not air conditioned so to sit inside would have been hard.  Instead I stayed home and worked on my manuscript...It is coming to the place where an end is in sight, even though today I decided to expand the ending chapters of the book as they really did gloss over some major events that have transpired in the past ten years.  Part of this glossing over is the result of major gaps in my memory left by the destruction of my short term memory by the ECT.  When I underwent the 15 treatments of electrashock therapy...the four years immediately prior to that time were obliterated from my memory and those memories have not returned; despite the reassurances of the doctors and nurses performing the brain-destroying procedure on me.  I am currently re-reading journals written during this "missing" period of my life and will also be interviewing family members to be sure I have my facts correct.

So today, attempting to piece together the various snap shots of memory that I've managed to pull from my wreckage of my memory, I was lost in memories...many of them traumatic and full of sadness.  I found myself so immersed in the story I was writing of my past life that tears frequently ran down my face as I recounted event after event in the heart-breaking story of the mentally ill young woman that I was.  I wonder how one life can contain so  much drama and so much trauma.  I don't think that I've ever had one "ordinary day" in my life when  I was functioning as well as my peers and neighbors ...without any tragedy or pain or angst.  My life has not been easy.  It certainly has not been boring.

I've decided to publish my book on Amazon both as a Kindle book and as a print on demand hard copy of the book.  This is a wonderful service offered by Amazon and one that I will jump on.  Of course the marketing of the book remains in my court.  I am somewhat limited physically and fiscally which will keep me from traveling to promote my book.  Most of my sales will have to come via connections I have online and word of mouth.  I pray that this book is successful.  I have a very interesting  story and it is one that cries out to be told.  I would say that it is conceivable  that if I continue to work at a steady pace, the book could be available in a month or two.

If you would like to be sent a reminder about my book once it's published, please email me your name (first name is fine) and whether you would like a hard copy version of the book or are interested in the Kindle book, I  will send you the Amazon links as soon as they become available for purchase.  You will not be obligated by sending me this email to purchase the book...this is merely a request for me to send you a reminder once the book is available for sale.
My email address is Cynthia Vogel's Email

A Friend like Me

I've long wished I had a friend with SZ.  I have some of them online and that is wonderful....but I just really wish I knew someone in person to be able to relate to.  It's like being the only caucasian or
African American on an island.  Worse even ....because people of different races are essentially the same inside...But between me and everyone I know, there is a huge gap.  And NO one that I know has any comprehension of what it's like on this side of it.  It's very lonely.  It's frustrating.

So I told this to my case worker, and he told me there is a day program not far from here for mentally ill people and that there are people with SZ there--and high functioning ones like me.  I got very excited at first, but then reality struck.  If I can't make it through a church service---even on a recliner--how would I last for a whole day at a day program?  Ed thinks i may be able to attend even part time for one or two groups a week....and that sounds marvelous; even though is know it will be excruciating.  I haven't heard anything more about it since we spoke of it...but I am seeing him this week and will definitely bring it up to him again.

I was thinking, even if I went...and met some people and we became friends...even if attending the program got to be too much for me; I could still maintain the friendships I made.  I don't know.  Maybe it will be nothing like what I'm thinking...but I do think I have a pretty good idea of what it is like.  I attended at day program when I was in the group home for a couple of years.  Granted, I HATED it then....but that's because I was very sick and was up to my neck in denial.  I couldn't believe or accept that I belonged there or that those people had anything in common with me.  What a snob I was!!  Actually denial like that is part of the illness, schizophrenia....so it was not pure snobbery.  I think that every other person in that day program was struggling with the same feelings.

That day program we called "Hitler's Day Camp" ...It was run by a man...George.  Quite a character this guy was.  He was merciless.  And his greatest pleasure was suspending people from the program. I don't know why he never suspended me...I never ever went to the meetings...and if I did, I would walk out, five minutes into them.  I think, looking back that George was not as tough as he liked to pretend to be....that that was his method of maintaining order.  I do recall seeing a twinkle in  his eyes on occasion...but he took great pains to hide that speck of humanity.  Anyway.  I hated being there.

I wanted nothing to do with the people (they used to call us "clients" , now they call us consumers, which is the stupidest name imaginable....as though we were shopping and doing that for fun and entertainment!)  But now, in my 'old age' after meeting all kind of  SZ's online., I am looking forward to this chance to interact with others.

Well, it's off to church for me now...I haven't been there in weeks.  Am going to attempt to make it through the  service.   Blessings.