Why does this not surprise me...

Army Asks Dead to Sign up for Another Hitch

WASHINGTON (AP) -- The Army said Friday it would apologize to the families of about 275 officers killed or wounded in action who were mistakenly sent letters urging them to return to active duty.
The letters were sent a few days after Christmas to more than 5,100 Army officers who had recently left the service. Included were letters to about 75 officers killed in action and about 200 wounded in action.
"Army personnel officials are contacting those officers' families now to personally apologize for erroneously sending the letters," the Army said in a brief news release issued Friday night.
The Army did not say how or when the mistake was discovered. It said the database normally used for such correspondence with former officers had been "thoroughly reviewed" to remove the names of wounded or dead soldiers.
"But an earlier list was used inadvertently for the December mailings," the Army statement said, adding that the Army is apologizing to those officers and families affected and "regrets any confusion."

"There's Strong and then there's Army Strong"...

“There’s Strong and then there's Army Strong”…this is the latest recruiting campaign by the US Army…I guessed it replaced the “Army of One” campaign…

Anyway, in light of my situation and experience with the military…I am left to wonder how the military, in their infinite wisdom, defines “Army Strong”

The reason for my question is that the Army is wanting/ordering me to report for active duty…as an Officer no less…

The backdrop of this story (or more accurately the miserable ordeal with military) is that I accepted a military scholarship when I went to medical school back in 2001…well, since leaving medical school in 2003 I have been dealing with chronic depression that has progressed to the point where I am not really able to care for myself. It got so bad that back in May of this year I was faced with the decision of either going to live on the street or live with my parents (it really was a tough decision as I have huge issues with my parents and lay a large part of the blame with my father as to why I am no longer in medical school...he promised to help me financially with medical school and then withdrew his promise the first week I moved down to school...hence the the applying for and accepting the military scholarship...but by then the psychological damage was done...thanks Dad!!!).

So, here I am living with my parents…I have only left the house once since June 2006…I have maybe bathed three times…I am simply unable to function out in society...

And since leaving medical school I have asked (and then begged) the military for help…only to be told that I am caught in the “beuracracy” and that they could not do anything for me as I was not eligible to access the military health care system…I even told them I was suicidal and all I was told in response was to "hang in there"...and now they want me to report for active duty??????

Over the last several years I have been admitted to hospital psychiatric units twice…once for attempted suicide and then for suicidal ideations…in addition I have been in and out of treatment for morbid depression…and now the military wants me to serve active duty???

I have tried to communicate all this to the Army but my words fall on deaf ears…

One thing I have learned about the US Military…is that it is epitome of bureaucracy in that people are unable or unwilling to think for themselves. The soldiers (officers and enlisted alike) are not encouraged to act or think for themselves if it contradicts the Standard Operating Procedures...even if it is contrary to logic and common sense.

The military is going to do what they want with me…my hope is that they put me in prison and I can live out the rest of my life in an institution and never have to worry about being able or not able to function in society ever again...

Back to my original question...I guess the Army defines the "Army Strong" as...those who are agoraphobic, incapacitated by obsessive-compulsive behavior, those with ADD/ADHD, those who often fantisizes about death and suicide and those who are chronically and morbidly depressed...and for those who are fornunate enough to have all those conditions...let's make them the Officers as they are clearly fit to lead the fine young men and women of the United States Army???

A Celebrity Comes Out About Her Personal Dealings with Mental Health...

NEW YORK (AP) -- Ashley Judd says she spent 47 days in a Texas treatment facility for depression and other emotional problems, in an interview in Glamour magazine.

"I needed help," the 38-year-old actress tells the magazine in its August issue. "I was in so much pain."
Judd, the daughter of country music star Naomi Judd, says she entered the Shades of Hope Treatment Center in Buffalo Gap in February for "codependence in my relationships; depression, blaming, raging, numbing, denying and minimizing my feelings."
"But because my addictions were behavioral, not chemical, I wouldn't have known to seek treatment. At Shades of Hope, my behaviors were treated like addictions. And those behaviors were killing me spiritually, the same as someone who is sitting on a corner with a bottle in a brown paper bag."
Judd says she was visiting her sister, singer Wynonna Judd, who was being treated for food addictions.
"When (the counselors) approached me about treatment, they said, 'No one ever does an intervention on people like you. You look too good; you're too smart and together. But you (and Wynonna) come from the same family -- so you come from the same wound.' No one had ever validated my pain before. It was so profound," she says.
Judd says her childhood was a time of "complete and total chaos." She attended 13 schools in 12 years and lived alternately with her mother, grandmother and father.
As a result, Judd says, she became "a hypervigilant child," striving to be perfect.
"A wonderful pastor once told me, 'Perfectionism is the highest order of self-abuse,"' she tells the magazine. "So now I try to remind myself that if I engage in perfectionism, I am abusing myself. Period."
Judd says her relationships, including her marriage to race-car driver Dario Franchitti, have improved.
"It's so simple really: I was unhappy and now I'm happy," she says. "Now, even when I'm having a rough day, it's better than my best day before treatment."
Judd starred in 2002's "Frida" and 2004's "De-Lovely." Her upcoming films include "Bug," directed by William Friedkin and co-starring Harry Connick Jr.

Sabbatical...

I am going to take an indefinite leave from this blogsite as I need to focus all of my attention on myself as I attempt to reclaim my life and piece together any remnants of self-worth that remains.

I wish you all well and much success with your personal and professional goals.

-James

100 Things about Me

I have never really been one to do the "100 Things about Me" or the "Tagged Thing" but seeing how I am more than likely going to be dead in the next few days, I thought I might do a more personal post so you could know more about me than just the depression that I have been writing about.

I have started the list and hopefully will have a chance to finish it.

1. I am anal retentive as hell
2. I am overly analytical
3. I love European Cars…Audi being my favorite
4. I love Le Mans style auto racing
5. I admire intelligence & beauty
6. I am insecure…from issues going back to my childhood and how I was raised
7. I love/admire/respect my Grandparents…they have been gone for over 2 years now
8. I was a combat medic in the Ohio Army National Guard
9. I still love Hair Metal…Poison, Warrant, White Lion and Motley Crue being some of my favorites
10. I love to cook and grill
11. I have a weakness for Williams-Sonoma
12. I love All-Clad cookware
13. I love Wusthof cutlery
14. I prefer micro-brewed beer to wine, but can appreciate a good wine with a good meal
15. I use hair products…American Crew...Forming Cream for all over and Fiber to make my hair stand up in the front
16. I am not gay...I am very heterosexual...but the question has come up more than a few times over the years
17. I enjoy a good cigar
18. I consider myself to be a Fiscal Republican/Social Democrat (I am registerd as a Republican)
19. I graduated from college with Honors
20. I was the Founding President of a Pre-Professional Fraternity in college
21. I don’t know how I graduated high school…honestly, I only remember studying for one exam during my entire time in high school…and the situation was that my History teacher told me that I needed to pass the final exam in order to pass the class and thus graduate…so, I studied with a good friend and a really attractive cheerleader…I remember thinking to myself, as we were studying at her house, that perhaps I had really missed out on something during high school…this “studying thing” was kinda’ neat.
22. I love romantic comedies
23. When Harry Met Sally is the standard by which all romantic comedies are to be judged...some of my other favorites are A Lot Like Love, Kissing a Fool and Before Sunset
24. My high school sweetheart's name was Jenny…she went to a Christian school and I was a product of the public school system.
25. “The one I let get away” is now married with a child...she went to a Catholic High School.
26. We dated for 2 years, lived together for 3 more years, broke up when we were 25 and were best friends for 4 years (our friends joked that we were like Will and Grace and I always felt the need to interject “but I am not gay”) then she met her fiance' and our friendship ended
27. I love to watch tennis…I came of age during the Sampras, Agassi, Courier, Chang era.
28. I had a big crush on Steffi Graff…I hold no ill will towards Andre since he stole my girl
29. I am a coffee snob…Starbucks French Roast being my favorite
30. I drink my coffee strong and black
31. A perfect Saturday morning for me is to be sitting in a coffee house on a sunny, cool, crisp fall morning reading and people watching…and of course enjoying a good cup of joe.
32. I first started drinking coffee during Army Basic Training, at Fort Knox, only because it offered warmth.
33. My favorite city is Columbus, Ohio
34. Columbus has a surprising number of coffee houses…Cup-O-Joe and Stauf’s being two of my favorites
35. One of the biggest mistakes of my life, and without going into too much detail, was leaving Columbus…I moved because of medical school...funny how the seemingly benign act of relocation can drastically alter one’s fate...the whole Butterfly Effect thing
36. I am neurotic to the core
37. In my life, I have pushed away too many attractive women and really good people because I was too focused on myself and my career…and now I don’t have my career or those great relationships.
38. My pride has gotten in the way too many times.
39. My first car was a ‘69 Camero
40. My first job was working at Wendy’s (Fast-food Hamburgers) during high school…I had some great times and have some great memories from that job...Jenny (my highschool sweetheart) also worked there.
41. I actually began working at Wendy’s because my father said I had to “get a job.” The reason being is because I was expelled from school during my sophomore year.
42. During college I worked as a patient care technician on an orthopedic unit…again, some great times and memories…in fact, I think this was one of the happiest periods of my life.
43. I thought I would be so much further along at this point in my life.
44. I wear glasses.
45. It took me almost 6 months before I found the perfect pair of eyeglasses
46. I almost got a tattoo once…this was right after high school and the situation was a friend and myself had been drinking and decided that we were going to get one but when we went to the tattoo parlor they were closed...if they weren't, I would be walking around with either a rose on my shoulder or barberd wire around my bicep.
47. My two cousins are like my brothers…I love them very much.
48. I have never been married nor do I have any children...this is by choice
49. I like going to the movies by myself
50. I often look at other people/total strangers and idealize their lives…you know…that person has a great career and family and is happy and enjoying their lives…blah, blah, blah
51. I have worked as a volunteer for an AIDS Foundation and in an Emergency Room
52. I won several bodybuilding competitions as a teenager, held one title and even qualified for Nationals.
53. I was a personal trainer
54. I always wanted to get into photography (black and white) of the human form/nudes
55. My favorite photographer is Gabriele Rigon, he is incredible...his work can be found at www.gabrielerigon.it
55. I have always wanted to learn to play the guitar
56. I like to visit museums
57. I tried to pick up the game of golf…it was too slow and frustrating…I much prefer tennis.
58. I love to grocery shop at Whole Foods and open air markets.
59. I fear that I am going to spend the rest of my life “always searching” and being “unfulfilled.”
60. In high school I had aspirations to be an architect, when I first started college I thought I wanted to be a physical therapist, I went on to medical school to be a doctor, but now I am lost.
61. I have OCD
62. I have ADD
63.I have been dealing with depression for most of my adult life but only over the last three years has it become debilitating.
64. I fear and welcome death
65. I miss my idealism
66. On two seperate instances I have "motivated" or been a "major infuleuce" for people to pursue a higher education...in one instance it was a friend, who was so inspired about my passion to go to medical school, she decided to go to law school and the other was a friend who I met in medical school and was thinking of dropping-out but she decided to stay...now one is a Lawyer and the other is a Doctor and I am screwed!
67. I really hate being this bitter person that I have become
68. My favorite ice cream is Hagen Dazs vanilla...with Hersheys chocolate syrup
69. I am a Diet Coke person
71. I have on two separate occasions in my life picked up a homeless person who was sitting on the side of the road with a cardboard sign asking for help…on each occasion I took them to a fast food place and told them to order whatever they wanted. They were both very thankful…one guy was a Vietnam Vet and he sung me a song he wrote…it was quite good…the other guy told me he had lost his wife and his “life just fell apart.” I returned them each to the spot where I had picked them up.
72. I fear that I may be homeless one day
73. I am the world's worst speller
74. I am materialistic
75. My favorite meal is breakfast...I especially love overly-indulgent, lazy Sunday breakfasts...I prefer french toast to pancakes...sausage links to patties...and the syrup must be pure maple syrup
76. I hate OJ from concentrate
77. I enjoy cleaning and find it to be very therapeutic...the whole immediate gratification thing
77. I love live jazz
78. I gave the eulogy at my Grandfather's funeral
79. I have always wanted to drive on the Autobahn
80.

Either or...continued

After the third day of being in the adult day care…I had had enough and decided that I was going to end my miserable existence that day as I just couldn't take it anymore. So, on the way home I stopped by the liquor store to purchase some “liquid courage” and a nice cigar. That was the plan…what wasn’t the plan, however, was for my friend to be home early from her clinical rotation…she wasn’t due back for another 4 hours…4 hours being plenty of time for me to get my drink on and do the deed. In light of this, for whatever reason my mind was still made up…I think because I had been pondering this for two weeks and since I had finally made “the mental commitment” that this was it, there was no turning back. When I walked in she was was downstairs napping.

My first mistake was drinking (no make that guzzling) Jake Daniels when I had not really had much to eat for several days…remember this was to be my “liquid courage” and I guess I figured the more I drank the more “courage”…that or I was scared shitless and didn’t want to be cognizant of the event.

Well, sometime during my "getting my drink on", my friend woke up and came upstairs. I tried to play it off real casual and all…but I don’t think I did a good job as I was already getting pretty intoxicated by this point. The sequence of events after that are a bit blurry but it went a little something like this…I told her that I loved her (platonically, she is like my sister) and that I appreciated everything she had done for me, and I wished her much success and happiness, which is something one wouldn't normally do in a conversation so I am sure she was thinking something’s up…at another point I was standing on the hood of my car (in the rain) urging her not to go as she was pulling out of the driveway in her car…I guess she had never seen me in that condition and it freaked her out.

Home alone, I went downstairs, sat on the couch in front of the fireplace and loaded the gun. I set the gun on the table as I continued to pour myself shots of whiskey. I remember sitting there looking out the window into the dripping, cold,wet, overcast day thinking that it was a rather poetic setting for such a melancholic deed.

Well, my friend returned sometime thereafter to find me passed out on the couch with a bottle of Jack Daniels, that was now 2/3rds full, and the loaded gun on the coffee table in front of me. Obvoiusly alarmed, she called the IOP people who in turn called the police…the next thing I know I am in the back of an ambulance going to the Emergency Room to be admitted to the psych unit...the psych unit being another interesting story, in and of itself, for a later post.

Now my origianl point about the military...I know that was a long build-up but I promise it will come full cicle.

Shortly, after the psych unit experience, I was like I can't wait forever, so I said to hell with the military and moved down to Florida to pursue another opportunity that had presented itself.

So, I have not heard from the military over the last 2 ½ years but only once to inform me of the money that I owe them…so I am thinking, I’ll pay back the money over time and that is that and my obligation to the military will be fullfilled.

Well, several months ago I contacted the National Guard to see what opportunities were available on a part-time basis. After having to track my own records down, I was informed that I am still listed as Active Duty and am currently AWOL (absent without leave) as I was to have reported for duty back in April of 2005 and in fact, these were my second set of orders that they had issued because I did not report to my first assignment in Septermber of 2004. I never received either of those orders. Apparently, they sent them to an address that I haven’t had in 5 years but somehow they were able to send the bill for monies owed to the correct Florida address...ah bureaucracy at it's finest.

So, at this point I am like, ok, I am not getting anything really going in the civilian world and going active duty might not be such a bad thing…so they begin processing my paperwork to cut my orders and was told to be ready to go by Jan 11, 2006. Jan 11th came and went and no orders. Now I am being told, low and behold…it is being held up by a signature and they can’t tell me when it will be signed…"it could come back with a signature tomorrow or it could be several months down the road.” I am like are you fucking kidding me as I don't want to go down that road again.

It's like I am living a twisted version of Groundhog Day.

Obsessive-Compulsive Valentines

By Jenny Traig
- - - -
Sweetheart, I've got you under my skin. I'll wash and wash, but you'll never come out.
- - - -
Roses are red, violets are blue. Sugar is sweet, and I think I left the iron on.
- - - -
I'm crazy for you! Get it?
- - - -
BE MINE. Wait. That has six letters. Six letters is so unlucky. It's like YOU DIE. That's exactly what it's like. Now you're going to die and it's all my fault.
- - - -
Honey, I'm hot for you! It's like a fever. Do you think it's viral meningitis? I bet it is. I touched the light switch and who knows what germs were on there. Then I thought about you, and infected you—it's a viral brain infection, so of course it's transmitted through brain waves, that makes perfect sense. We should probably just drive to the hospital right now.
- - - -
You're all I think about. Literally!
- - - -
You and me, sitting in a tree—oh, wait, that doesn't sound very safe, does it? Let's say we're sitting on a couch instead. Huh. I wonder who sat on this couch before us. Maybe we should put some plastic wrap down. Yeah, I think we'd better. Is this a new box of plastic wrap, or has it been opened for a while? Are you sure? OK. OK. Let's just say it's new and move on. So we're sitting on a couch, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. Except that I kind of feel this tingle on my lip? Like I might be getting a cold sore? Maybe we should just forget the whole thing.
- - - -
It's hard to tell, what with all the SSRIs in my bloodstream, but I think I feel something for you.
- - - -
I'd touch you without gloves. If I could, I mean.
- - - -
I love you. Wait. That didn't feel right. Let me try it again. I love you. Don't think about disease. Don't think about disease. Don't think about disease. I love you. There.

Either or...

Either the military will get me or the alcohol, which ever comes first...

OK, here is my situation…but I need to give you some background information first. When I was in medical school (over 2 years ago) I was on a military scholarship. Well, when I first left medical school (released from the program being more acurrate) in June, I was an absolute mess and pretty much bed ridden for the next 6 months…after about 4 months I was finally able to function enough to interrupt my routine of 20 hours of sleep per day to attempt to contact the military about repaying my obligation through active duty service (I figured the structured nature of the military might be a good kick in the ass to get me going again)…well, apparently, I fell into some kind of “weird void” as no one was taking responsibility for me and I was getting passed around from one office to the next faster than a water-bong at a Grateful Dead concert…this went on for at least a week and a half (the military not being a model for efficiency) before I found someone who had a sympathetic ear and went out of his way to put me in contact with the “correct office.”

So, after being in contact with the correct office/officer and after several more weeks, the last hold up in getting into the military was that they were waiting for a signature before they could cut my orders...and unfortunately they could not give me a time frame as to when that might happen...all I could get was "it could come back with a signature tomorrow or it could be several months down the road." As several weeks turned into months my patience was gettng short and depression was getting worse…and at this point I did not have a job or health insurance (my student health insurance stopped when I left the medical program). So, realizing that I would need some mental health care to deal with "everything," I asked the "military" if there was any assistance available for me…well, again, I fell into that “weird void” of “being in the military but not necessarily being in the military,” so I was told that there was nothing they could do until my paperwork got the appropriate signature and my orders were cut. I even went as far as saying that I really needed to speak to someone rather desperately...whether it was a psychiatrist, a counselor, a therapist or even a chaplan...it really didn't matter, but whoever it was going to be I needed it soon rather than later, or the orders might be a moot point…I think he understood what I was saying…but again, he apologized and said there was nothing they could do for me.

So, by this point we are into January and I am nearing the end of my patience. Sensing my frustration and desperation, my close friend, who I was staying with at the time, suggested an Intensive Outpatient Group (IOP)…and I thought that it was actually a good idea, in spite of it being a "public assistance type of program." What I wasn’t thinking or expecting, however, was to be doing art therapy on the first day…which pretty much consisted of construction paper and watercolor paints…very reminiscent of my childhood memories…like from 3rd grade!! Needless to say, I wasn’t really into it and politely declined the offer…I think my refusal to participate got me the label of “difficult patient” from day one. In light of this, I did proceed to go back the next few days and I just got the feeling like I was at an adult day care, with the obvious twist of mental health just to keep things interesting. But, not interesting enough for me.

SIDEBAR: A few weeks prior to starting the IOP program, knowing that I was nearing the end of my rope, I went out and bought a .45 Caliber handgun...and everyday for next two weeks I would wake up with the intent that that would be the last. Contrary to what you might think, it's actually a very difficult thing to place a gun to your head with the intention of pulling the trigger.

OK, now back to the regularly scheduled program…actually, on second thought and to avoid a really long post I think I will continue in the next...

Idiot Savant...

I really hope I am some undiscovered/undiagnosed idiot savant or something…so at least all this pain and misery would make sense and that it might actually amount to something and not be for not. But my fear is that I will most likely spend the rest of my life doing some meaningless job just so I can pay the bills and “work towards retirement” – what is the point of that really? Is it asking too much to want a meaningful life and career? I know some will argue that life is beautiful and that living in-and-of-itself is enough reason to live, but I don’t quite agree with that.

To pacify myself, I hold on to the thought (or delusion) that perhaps I do have some great talent or contribution yet to offer this world. One of my “delusions of grandeur” is that a screenplay I have been writing might actually be made into a movie. How crazy is that? But it is one of the few things that keeps me hanging on.

Psychiatric ER

So, I finally conceded to my friends request to seek more immediate mental health care and went to the Psychiatric Emergency Room here in Pittsburgh. I might note that I have been to this ER on one other occasion back in August and at that time was set up with an Intensive Outpatient Program for Men with Depression (I’ll touch more on that experience in another post). Knowing this, I am not sure what more I was really expecting or hoping to have happen this time…but at least taking the “first step” made me feel better. This time was made a bit more difficult because I was going by myself, where as, last time I had my friend to accompany me and help ease the anxiety.

It was a 5 hour wait before I was seen by the doctor…and as I waited I couldn’t help but wonder and was curious about the circumstances that led the others, in the waiting room, to this point in their lives where they had to seek emergency treatment for their mental health. We all have our stories to tell...and I wondered if the others in the waiting room were entertaining the same thoughts and questions…and specifically, I wondered what they were thinking about me and my “circumstances.” Could they have ever guessed the irony of the situation in that I had planned to be a doctor and, in fact, had even made it into medical school…I mean everyone thinks doctors are somehow “immune” to all the afflictions of us mere mortals…right? So, how was it possible?

I suppose that if you were stuck somewhere for several hours and had to do some people watching, the waiting room of a Psychiatric Emergency Department is the place to do it. There were a lot of interesting characters, but a few in particular that caught my attention. The first being, whom I shall call the Gay Redneck Couple…this was an ambiguous situation…at first these two guy came across and the “red-blooded, blue-collared proud to be an American”…you know the type. They dressed the part in their baseball caps, blue jeans and work boots (with one of them even wearing a camouflaged pair)…coming from a blue-collared/hunting family I knew it was not uncommon for one to wear their hunting clothes interchanged with their work clothes as their occupation and outdoor sport of choice both required clothing that would protect one against the elements. It became clear to me after watching their body language and affection for one another that they were more than close friends…all I needed for confirmation was for one to turn to the other and say “I wish I knew how to quit you.” (A Brokeback Mountain reference for those of you who haven’t seen it yet). That’s not what really made these guys interesting to watch though, it was that they appeared to be happily intoxicated and were commenting on every other person in the room…thinking they were just whispering to each other. I was sitting right across from them and could here most every comment. They even commented on me and how sad I looked…which made the one guy start to cry...I was touched. I was at least spared comments about my attire…others weren’t so lucky as I heard various comments such as “Those jeans make her look like she doesn’t have an ass.” The person who they were talking about was perhaps the only other person in the room who looked more depressed than me...so caring about how her ass looked in her jeans was probably not that high on her list of concerns.

Then there was this girl who had to be no more than 14 years old that came in with her mother. It was a surreal experience seeing her, because she was this attractive young girl, with an angelic face, who was wearing a large studded black belt (think Billy Idol), a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt (with a long sleeve white shirt underneath), and a pair of black and white checkered Vans shoes…for a moment it took me back to 7th grade…as this is exactly what someone would have worn at my suburban junior high school (I guess it is true what they say…fashion is cyclical). It was almost as if I was starring at my past…I could have easily stepped out of the moment, walked up to her and said, “Hey, Jen, did you finish you algebra homework because I had a few problems that I couldn’t figure out?” as we walked to English class together. It made me question how 20 plus years of my life have passed and this is where I am at this point in time…how is possible!?! How did it happen?!?

Well, I finally saw a doctor…and within the first minute I was disenchanted...this doctor showed absolutely no compassion for my situation what-so-ever. I don’t want to sound racist or anything but my experience has been that Asian and Middle Eastern doctors tend to be the least outwardly companionate…and at that moment I needed some compassion. I spoke with her for several minutes and then she asked me, point blank…"Why did you come here today?" I was a little taken aback as I said “I am so depressed that I am not functioning on a daily basis.” That was followed up by “Are you thinking of harming yourself or anyone else?” And my response was “well, not really, I am not actively suicidal (which may not have been entirely true), but I fantasize all the time about being dead or just simply not existing.” After a few more questions she left and came back with the same doctor that I had seen when I was there back in August. I really connected with him and I immediately felt better. We talked, and he told me that unfortunately, unless I was at risk of harming myself or someone else that I wouldn’t be admitted and that the next best thing that they could do was set me up with out-patient care. I even asked him what would really happen therapeutically if I did say I was suicidal...and his response was that being admitted is more for safety rather than therapeutic purposes. Sensing my frustration, he openly expressed his own frustration with the standards of practice with mental health care in the country. Surprisingly, he also remembered speaking to me before and remembered specific parts of our conversation. He pretty much told me that I was stuck in the stages of grieving and needed to work with a therapist to get through it…and he is right…I often use the analogy of losing a spouse to try and express the magnitude of my own personal loss.

So, my ER visit concluded with me leaving with no more than I arrived, except for a piece of paper that had the date and time of a therapist appointment on it, and was trust back out into the cold (both figuratively and literally) real world. As I walked to my car in the subfreezing temperatures I stopped and pondered how, perhaps, I have never felt more alone and helpless as I did standing there at that very moment.