Posts Tagged With: Therapy

Public Therapy

Poverty TRAPS people mentally and geographically, BREAKS their spirit, and EATS AWAY at their soul until there is only a RESENTFUL husk left for the non-impoverished to gauge their success by. IT IS AN EXHAUSTING way to live! I know, I live in poverty and have quite a few health issues and I am also that same hypocritical ASS who has adopted the pitiful mantra… be happy, there are many in worse situations that me, be happy for all the little things. I NEED A NEW MANTRA, the “little things” in my life are not enough!

I have stated in other posts that this little ole blog is my form of therapy. Why? Why am I limited to writing and posting my thoughts, doubts, and insecurities? POVERTY! The thing is… I have insurance. My insurance even covers psychologists. Why don’t I take advantage of that? Co-pays! Living in poverty doesn’t allow for ANOTHER co-pay in addition the the ones I already have seeing a specialist for my Multiple Sclerosis, doctors for my diabetes, in addition to regular doctor visits for other issues that arise. I have to travel 70 miles each way for my MS specialist and that adds gas and usually a meal too. So, do I have the money for a psychologist, that I would most likely need to see on a regular basis? HELL NO!

I do have a friend that in addition to his friendship occasionally does something for me that gives me a little reprieve. I also have a few others friends that do understand my situation and we kind of do for each other as we are able to. That my be a simple as buying a coffee or treating a meal, and these are the “little things” that have a positive impact. These friendships are “big things” to me!

So, what “things” am I referring to as “little”? Things like not going hungry, having a roof over my head. You know… things that people that HAVE hardly think of or consider. Why am I not happy about having food? Because I can’t think of a time in recent years that I didn’t have to put something back that was already on a short list of things to pick up because I didn’t have enough. I buy stuff that helps me feel full, not things that are good and healthy. Eating healthy is something that I would enjoy as well as benefit from. The roof over my head is a great thing. It is also a thing that requires setting the thermostat cooler in the winter and warmer in the summer than most houses. So, having the simplest of basics of food and shelter are “little thing” things because they are not enjoyed, they are measured, rationed, and at times, simply done without.

Joining someone while running errands is a sad form of entertainment. If I am running errands with someone, it is because I like spending time with them, not because I like running errands. It becomes a fun “little thing” until they begin to shop and I am restricted to just looking. To be with someone that strolls through the WalMart isles and they put what they want in the buggy, or say, “I just want to try this” and never keep a running total in their head what they are spending seeds a little resentment. It is a dream of mine to go shopping for things I want versus what I need. To shop without needing to use the calculator on my phone to keep track with each penny I’m spending. Yes, even if it is as simple as shopping at WalMart for groceries… not worrying about what I am spending would be dreamy!

Payday to payday has been a lifestyle for me and way too many Americans for way too long. I did have a period in my life that the payday was certainly more than now and I did enjoy little and big things. It was not as glamorous as I may romanticize in my memories, but I do have happy memories from that time that spark flints of quick fleeting happiness… then back to reality. But the reality that I am not the only one in this situation and that there are people in worse situations just doesn’t bring comfort, it is just something else I worry about. If I worry about my situation, how can I not worry or be concerned about those in worse situations?

I seldom have money for Powerball, but I do dream of winning big like that one day! When I do buy a ticket, I wait a few days before checking the numbers because I can’t dream of winning after checking my numbers because it is only a dream to win. Why do so many poor people spend money on lotto? Usually because it feels like the only way out of their situation. IF I did ever win, I would be broke in a few years because I just know I couldn’t enjoy that much money and not share it! Being the ASS I am (tomASS actually), I am not even such an ass to not share. I have had the link to contribute to my therapy blog with a promise that once the $150 a year cost was covered, 50% of any money from this blog would be donated to charity. I’ve not received the $150 in any year yet, so no donations have been made. Also, since it seems no one else benefits from my therapeutic rants, I lose the incentive to keep writing.

So, until I am feeling so overwhelmed and feel writing about it, I guess this will be it for a while! I do miss writing about happier “little things” and hope to return to that one day! But again I post a link for anyone to send me some encouragement!  lol

Blogging is not free!  Please help cover the costs!

Once the $150 a year cost is covered – 50% of EVERY donation will be given to a charity (the charity will not be ME)!  😀

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The Therapy of Writing

 

I am exhausted! I know I am not the only one! I have reached out to my few but close friends, they agree. Then I reached further, they agreed… things are different. I am happy Frankthat it’s not just me… but WOW am I sad it’s not just me! I have taken about a 2 year break from writing and the world (in my view) is falling apart, is it my fault? lol Did my break from writing cause all of this: the rise of Trump, the … OMG, wait, is all of the things I see wrong in the world related to Trump? Simply put – YES! He has been a flashlight to some dark parts of society I had only seen in shadows. I will try writing more later about that list of obscure issues I feel Trump has highlighted… but this writing will be about how I need to write. I will try to follow Anne Frank’s advice.

I feel hopeless, like there is nothing I can do. While that may be true, there may be scriptotherapysomething I can do to feel better about it – WRITE! While I struggle with all that affects how I see people and question their ideologies, I have to do something for ME!

This little ole blog used to reach a few people. Based on the the site stats: there have been 71,110 views from 179 countries since I started. Damn!!! That is a lot of people that at least looked at my page or one of the posts I wrote! 🙂 Sadly though, it has far from paid for it’self with only 5 donations made! lol Proof that it is probably only therapeutic for me and that I don’t know what I am doing (shouldn’t this make me a little money? lol). I do know I did get great reactions from a few posts. I would say the feedback has been 90% positive and all this time, I  have only blocked one person showing that even the people that fall in the 10% get their say.

I worry so much about things others probably don’t even care about like grammar, punctuation, and editing. What I have realized lately is that my grammar, punctuationcovfefe and editing is better than that of the President of the United States. So, I have found one positive Trump has had with me… I feel less pressure to be accurate! lol I can just shoot my thoughts out unfiltered and fuck the consequences!

I have “come out” as gay and poor, I have been open about my health issues, I have admitted to being depressed and lonely. None of that has changed but my willingness to again start putting my soul out for the world to see… well 91% of the world… I will have to investigate which of the 195 countries has not visited my page! I will also keep linking my PayPal donation button in hopes ALL these readers my begin to encourage me MORE! 😉

I’M BACK!! 

 

Blogging is not free!  Please help cover the costs!

Once the $150 a year cost is covered – 50% of EVERY donation will be given to a charity (the charity will not be ME)!  😀” />

Categories: Life, Political | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

It Is Cold In His Shadow

Glen Thomas Johnston

September 21, 1932 – March 22, 2011

I have learned that life in the shadow of my father after his death is even more difficult than when he was living.  Most people have idealized their father to the point of being an unrealistic character.  In my case it was real!  My Dad was a character but it the best way – everyone loved him.  I have NEVER heard anyone say ANYTHING bad about my father, where as I do not have to leave the house to find people that will speak ill of me.  My father was not perfect, and even people that did not agree with him still  respected him.  The year since his death, I have learned it will be impossible for me to have a fraction of the respect from family, friends, and community that he had – this frustrates me.

Next week I will begin therapy (AGAIN)!  Even before his death I had issues.  The more I am living at home and in this community, the more I see things I had felt were big accomplishments in my life have been undermined by some.  I miss Dad because he was proud of me and he let me know it.  Our family did not make a big deal about birthdays, they were usually a simple family meal but never a real party.  Now when I graduated from Ole Miss (University of Mississippi), he and Mom threw me a party!  I was the youngest child, but the first to graduate from college.  When I bought my Toyota 4-Runner, he would not have been happier for me if it were a Land Rover.  When I went to work for Sony, most people would, by his account, think I was hired as the President/CEO instead of lowly marketing guy.  When I bought my BMW convertible while living in Las Vegas, I hoped he would be impressed.  Even though he liked the car, what impressed him was the deal I got on it.  His disappointment was that I had bought a BMW that was 2 years old instead of the brand new Toyota Tacoma I had originally planned to buy.  When I moved to Colombia, an Ambassador’s welcome would have been too little in his eyes.  I was the first in the family to have a Passport and to get a stamp in it.  Now all of my family has Passports and stamps – other than Mom and I hope to change that soon.

The last few years have been very tough for me.  I finally had to surrender to my Multiple Sclerosis by taking disability.  This meant I had to say goodbye to Sony, goodbye to my BMW convertible, goodbye to my Las Vegas life and even pretty much all of my independence.  He had been diagnosed with Dementia. I had just moved from Bogota to Medellin, Colombia, when I got a phone call,

“If you want to see your Dad alive again you better get home as fast as you can.” my Mom said.  My sister’s were in Brazil.  We all rushed home as soon as we could.  

I walk in the hospital room where he was setting up, smiling as if nothing had happened and he said, “What are you doing here?  I thought you were in another country.”  

I replied jokingly, “I came home because I thought you were dying!”  

He said with a smile, “Not today!”

What I learned later was that the night I was flying home, he walked out of the hospital and security found him in his pajamas trying to get into his car.  Mom asked him where  was he trying to go.  He said, “To get Tommy.” (Tommy was my childhood nickname).  Even supposedly dying, he was thinking he needed to come get me.

My Dad not only loved me, he respected me.  He knew how much I struggled to get through college.  He occasionally would help me out with some money, but he knew how I worked to support myself and pay for my education.  I told him years later that I did not want him to leave me anything in his will because of all the help he gave me in college.  But even what I consider to be a grand gesture has been reduced to, “Thomas don’t want anything because his Dad paid for him to party at Ole Miss all those years.”  He is not here to set the record straight and stand up for me and say Thomas deserves respect because his finishing college was quite an accomplishment.  Even though he would have loved for me to have lived closer, he encouraged my dreams that required I live away.

I have given up any hope that people will have the same respect for me that my father had.  My own family can’t even muster simple respect for me and it hurts me, makes me angry, and helps fuel my desire to live away from here.  It is easier to leave and just start somewhere fresh.  People I worked with and customers at Sony had a great deal of respect for me (other that a bitch – I’ll just use her first name – Renee).  Friends that are from all over the world encourage me with my writing – even though it makes me no money, it makes me happy – and my family knows little or nothing of my writing.  My life of wanting and trying to have my family respect me fatigues me more than my MS.  I have severed my relationship with one of my nieces because of her blatant  DISrespect.

A year ago I had to say good bye to my father – and the to the respect he so easily gave me.  I miss my father!  He was ALWAYS in my corner.  Now I just find I am fighting with myself – and I am losing!  He and I did not agree on politics or religion, but he still respect me even though I aggravated him with discussion of these topics.   Maybe the therapist will help me get on a more positive path even with myself.  As RuPaul says, “If you don’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?”  Maybe I have to learn to love myself in spite of how family and friend view me.  I will always be in his shadow and it disappoints me that I will never be half the man he was – even through my own eyes.

Categories: Life | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

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