Where have we been on TheWildSideWalk?

I swore I was going to start posting on this thing . . . But "the best-laid plans . . ." Well, perseverance is a virtue (most of the time, except when one perseveres about things that become toxic . . .). So below is the introduction to recent WildSideWalk activity that might account for continued gaps in blog-initiative.

The WildSideWalk and on-cusp-of-adulthood daughter made one of our memorable sojourns to the Southland (a traditional Little Rock sandwich on NOLA bread, anyone who knows us well enough knows that routine). That occurred in late August 2011. Our second NOLA leg of this trip included the amazing and daunting opportunity to be there during the entire Hurricane Katia period, as well as the passing of its successor, Lee. This gave us some vague notion in a very mild way, of what New Orleans was like during Katrina.

School started shortly after we returned from that once-in-a-lifetime experience. Less than a week had passed after our return to NYC from NOLA, and WildSideWalk's life took some unexpected turns . . .

Precious daughter of WildSideWalk, a senior at a prestigious NYC public high school, who had begun having a difficult time during the previous year (and ended up in summer school making up lost credits as a result), started school with no small measure of continued trouble. Essentially, the depression and anxiety that had begun to haunt her (acutely during the previous year) were awakened from their summer-dormant state; in fact they woke with a new vengeance and took over her existence. She was absent from more classes than she attended (interesting degree of non-accountability at this very highly-rated school, perhaps future posts on that frustration). She lived to hang out with her two closest school peers (mother refuses to use the term "friends"), at least one of whom was an active/heavy user of illicitly-acquired prescription drugs and alcohol. (These kids think that Smirnoff Ice is VODKA, instead of the hangover-formula malt liquor that it really is--makes me nauseous just to imagine it.)

Simultaneous with that, The WildSideWalk was precipitously laid off from a position with the iconic addiction treatment organization that had employed her as the Research/Program Evaluation Manager for the previous two years. This represented a very sad state of affairs for that organization, in that it is one of the "elders" in the therapeutic community (TC) world, and it is fiscally tanking in a huge way. There was a complete upheaval/ejection of top executive staff that began shortly after WildSideWalk arrived. Periodically there were waves of layoffs at every staff level throughout the organization; round one of this occurred shortly before we got involved with this organization but was "downplayed" during the hiring process by the Senior Vice-President to whom we reported. That organization has more recently taken a "clever" turn, and filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy. They spin the report that this in not in an effort to begin closing down, but to "facilitate further restructuring."

Had I known more from the outset regarding the already dreadful fiscal disaster this agency had created for itself, there might have been a different decision made about going there in the first place. Just goes to emphasize that one should look below the surface before believing others' sales pitches about the safety of the pool . . . (More also about this in future posts.)

From that time to the present, we have been involved in a series of life-struggles, with continued unemployment, trying to survive with that in New York City, and daughter with her own set of challenges, that of course reflect back on/bounce of of/permeate the existence of those close to her . . . This is the first up-close-and-personal experience of a seasoned professional psychologist, with the intimate, personally-felt details of a large urban "mental health system." It has provided much material for thought, and an altered perspective regarding many aspects of the experience of people in need of help for life's problems. We hope in the course of this to be able to capture and express some of those insights and views, as we found them staggering--and profoundly revealing, of the barriers and frustrations encountered by people in need of help for emotional, psychological, and other forms of suffering.

That is the introduction.

Bummitch or Bitchummer????

New English compound words. If no one has rights on these, copy or otherwise, I claim them. More on this one later.

Still trying to get going with this

Not easy, with ADD and periodic depression and a new job, all in one fell swoop. Oh, yes, and the divorced/single-mother custodial parent of an adolescent daughter (the joy of my existence, as the Skipper on "Gilligan's Island" named Gilligan, "my little buddy," which is an amazing miracle in my opinion) . . .

For the privacy and in some ways the sanity of the above child, as well as myself (in ways I will elaborate over time), there are two rules for this blog: 1) It will be extremely difficult for most of you to figure out any way to definitively identify the origin of this blog (the writer, her family ties, etc.) AND 2) I will do my absolute best in that context, to express ONLY the TRUTH (as I know it at whatever moment I post these things). If I can't uphold condition #1 at the same time I fulfill condition #2, I will not post false information just to "get through" this, to reconcile a set of competing standards, or simply to make a point. What you will read here is the TRUTH. If you don't see it here, it doesn't necessarily mean "it" doesn't exist. That may simply signify that I don't want to violate anyone else's privacy by providing more details of the truth I feel I can reveal. You can guess all you want; I'll reveal exactly what I want, and no more. Guess what: Despite our fondest wishes for significant/intimate others to be totally open and transparent with us, WE ALL FOLLOW THE SAME PRINCIPLE. Therefore: 1) I won't succumb to feeling guilty about withholding information and 2) You won't judge me negatively for the fact that you wish you had information you don't have from me. That seems fair.

Now, the "main paragraph" above: Yes, I have Attention Deficit Disorder. Yes, I (finally admit that I) have Major Depressive Disorder, which came to the fore in a post-partum episode that was one of the biggest gift/curses I have ever received. The ADD was a much more recent discovery (which explained a lot about the depression), which is actually a disgusting fact, given the fact that I have worked in a wide variety of mental health/cognitive/behavioral/psychiatric areas, and have TWO (different) graduate degrees in related areas. The fact that I, myself, didn't "catch" these things is one thing. I was on the inside of them, therefore not objective. However, the number of people who missed all of this stuff, who were my professors, supervisors, mentors, etc., etc, and supposedly more "qualified" than I was, in the end is appalling. [More about all of these things at a later point, promise. If you want to know and don't see it soon enough to suit you, just ask.]

In any case, all of the above is true. And I'll get over/forgive all the astute, trained professionals who completely missed the characteristic signs that could have gotten me critical help much earlier (and potentially changed the course of my life); be that as it may, self-help/self-diagnosis/self-knowledge finally took care of that.

Work, September 28, 2009: Or how "work" hospitalized a colleague

About to take off to one of the premier psychiatric hospital units in my city, to visit a colleague who recently succumbed to the pressures of a disability-serving organizational environment.

That was painful. And at this point (posting this several months later), I don't know what happened to my colleague. I do know that it was strongly indicated that the "disability serving organizational environment" we were both in at the time, turned out to be one that really wanted to serve itself, by dispensing of my colleague--or anyone else that got in the way of the comfort of the "executive staff" of that organization.

I hope: a) my colleague is alive and still remembering to be the advocate for disabled people she always had been, and b) that my theory, "There's justice in the Universe" proves to be true again here. The sickest thing about all of this was that the Executive Director of this organization we had the odd fate to share (being reunited in a common workplace after having met 20 years previously in another "common workplace"), twisted a verbal notice that this person was declaring herself disabled regarding work capacity, into a RESIGNATION NOTICE. Given that this is an amazing person who is severely cognitively disabled albeit extremely intelligent: I only pray that this organization experiences all the justice it is due, and that my friend gets all the benefit due her from that justice.

Welcome to The WildSideWalk!

Wow. I'm BLOGGING (Is that like Mary Martin--or the more recent Dorothy Hamill--yelling from the end of that hidden wire, "I'M FLYYYYYYYING!"????).

A former-boss/colleague/friend suggested that I do this, with the comment that I have "a lot to say." Then when I actually initiated the thing, the "lot to say" became an absolute daunting roadblock; due to my perfectionistic inclination--not only about writing, but about expression of thoughts--until this moment, I "THOUGHT" a great deal about writing, but always hesitated to actually sit down and do this.

I actually DO have "a lot to say," sometimes much more than is probably best for me, and certainly much more (volume) than others seem to readily handle.

There. It's DONE. The Pandora's Box has been cracked open.

You'll find that I write "a lot," about "a lot of different things." On the agenda are included:
1. Parenthood/children/being in either of those states at any given time.
2. Work: a multifaceted huge list of "topics" (read "mostly 'ISSUES'").
3. MY work, in its various forms and incarnations.
4. OTHERS' work, i.e. mostly observations and scathing criticism.
5. Psychology/mind/philosophy of mind, and sundry related subjects.
6. People in my life, who I hope/wish to share with others; some with "names changed to protect the innocent," others TOTALLY IDENTIFIED (usually because I either thought/confirmed they wouldn't mind, or because I think they "deserve to be named").
7. Art, which is an interesting topic, and BY THE WAY: WHEN YOU READ THAT WORD, WHAT DID YOU THINK OF?
8. "Pet Peeves"--based on a plethora of social/public behavior observations and experiences, there will be some portion of readers who take each one of these personally, to be sure, but far be it from this writer to shrink from a topic just because it might "affect" someone . . .
9. "Other" topics, as they may occur, be suggested, bubble up, or simply appear on the screen . . .