Wednesday, April 8, 2015

This Country Does Not Take Mental Illness Seriously

I wonder why.  Most physical illnesses I might have mean I'm going to die.  My mental illnesses mean I could die and take out a few or a few hundred people with me.  Yet it seems our country does not take mental illnesses seriously.

I just got a call from a "mental illness" facility telling me they had just received my referral request from my family doctor which was supposed to be sent THREE WEEKS ago.  The nice young lady on the  phone said they were not making an appointment for me but some "student" would be "touching base" with me to "find out what I need".  What I need?!?  I'm supposed to tell  THEM what I need?  How effed up is that?  Isn't that what I'm seeing them for?

Kind of seems relevant right  now since some depressed SOB just deliberately crashed a jet liner into the mountains and took out 150 innocent people along with himself.  Wonder if someone told him, "Someone will touch base with you to see what you need"?

OK, my problems are not dangerous to others.  But, they might be.  How would anyone know who does not at least talk to me?  Tell them what I need?  Yeah, right.  "Oh, I'm thinking of climbing to the roof where I work with a high powered rifle and a few boxes of ammo and seeing how many I can take out before I go".   I'm not.  But, I might be.  Who's to know?

OK, when I was in my teens I went through a "mass murderer" phase.  I read everything I could find on mass murderers.  My favorite was Richard Speck.  He kidnapped nine nurses and butchered and dismembered eight of them.  But the dumbass lost count and the ninth rolled under the bed and escaped because he was too stupid to know how  many he killed.  Then he went downstairs to a bar and tried to sell the knife pretending to be a Vietnam vet who used the knife to do away with VC.  Dumbass.

I'm not dangerous to others.  I'm not even dangerous to myself.  But, were I so inclined I guaran-damn-tee you I would not lose count.  And, I'm a damn good shot.  They nick-named me "Rambo" when I was in the Army for the way I shot on the range.  I can burst a fist-sized rock every shot at 200 yards with a 30-06 without a scope.  I know how to get into my office without anyone knowing.  I know the way to get to the roof.  You think I could not take out at least fifty before they got me?  You're dreaming.  I won't do it.  But, the point is, I could.  Any day.

And, if I did, you all would go, "tut, tut, isn't is a shame nobody ever helped him?"  THEN you'll go out and vote for the bastard politicians who promise to cut spending at the expense of the poor, down trodden and mentally ill.  Then guess who's to blame.  Is it the person who crashed that passenger liner, climbed to that roof, butchered those nurses or is it YOU?  You who deny the mentally ill treatment because you're more concerned with your pocket book than your fellow man? (or woman)

I have news for you.  A lot of mental illnesses are physical illnesses which affect the mind.  There are a  lot of people who have them who are embarrassed to admit it, to ashamed to seek help, too stigmatized by a society which does not understand a lot of mental illness is no different than having TB, or CANCER, or other physical illnesses we cannot help.  And, in their ignorance they just write us off as "crazies" until one of us (who could have been helped) climbs that high building or crashes that  jet plane into the mountains.

And still they go out and vote for cutting fund for mental health.  Remember babe, you reap what you sow.  And remember, I'm not going to climb that tall building with a rifle... but I could.



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