Christ_empowered
Member
I don't just mean freedom from the BIG things--jail, prison, state hospital, etc. The Lord spared me, saved me, forgave me, and He has been good to put off the old and put on the new. By --His-- grace, I was released from probation after 3 years, instead of the full 5 I was sentenced to, based on "good behavior."
Deal is...I -have- moved. I moved back to an urban area in state to go back to school, and bad things happened. I moved out of state...my information followed me. I know this sounds kinda crazy, but one day...I was out in the little patio area of my small, no frills, but -safe- apt. my parents were renting for me, out of state. I could see the road from where I was. Now, here's the thing; this apt. was in the south. I"m in the south. But...souther culture is not some huge, monolithic entity. The southern culture where I grew up is different from the southern culture of where I was living, in both good ways and bad. Kinda hard to explain, I guess. Anyway...
I saw a white minivan driving by, no big thing right? Yeah...I saw a sticker on it, for a big time college in my area. Thing is...the school is well known and all, but that was the 1st and only time I saw that symbol in that area. I shrugged it off (plus, I was on a 1 year lease), and went back in. And then...
somebody managed to take out a title loan on my dad's car. He was letting me use it. I didn't find out about it until after I'd moved back home and I had a different vehicle, cuz that one died one day. Somebody tried to use my debit card, so the fraud line people told me to go the local branch and get a temporary debit card. I did, and the dude looked me up and down and said they were fresh out. I called the fraud line back and they said that was "unusual," because they almost always had plenty of those.
My parents were visiting one day, and then we went out to the parking lot and my dad noticed...somebody had switched out my brand new tire for a beat up old tire. The landlord wouldn't return calls or emails about renewing the lease, months in advance. The rent had always been paid on time, no drugs or drink, etc.
I overheard a late teens young lady talking to someone about me at church. Something about me not working, living off welfare, etc. Not true...I mean, I get disability now, which is basically welfare for the "severely mentally ill," but back then I was straight up dependent on my (loving, kind, generous, long suffering) parents. I ended up moving home a bit early, and the landlord claimed that I damaged the apt. (I didn't, btw), and they wanted 1200.
OK. While trying to go back to school, I was on a bridge, thinking about maybe jumping. Happens. So, now and then, people yell out "why didn't you jump off the bridge? we would have gone to your funeral!" and "you should have jumped off the bridge!"
The other nite, some neigbor dude yelled out about "CALL THE LAW!," and I was just in my parents' backyard, puffing on a Camel. At times, they've yelled out "we will find you WHEREVER YOU GO!" I know, sounds...crazy...truth is...for a lot of people, this is what life is like as a "mental patient."
Of course, I'm living far more comfortably than most "mental patients." I"m not trying to be snotty, its just...whoa. Thing is...if you're not poor going into "treatment," chances are pretty good you will be, after a while. Then if you're well-behaved (or, in my case, "the people have money," so I have a bit more leverage), you'll get disability. Disability, of course, will need to review the case sometimes, so you'll probably be stuck with a "mental health professional," indefinitely.
I am -not- a convicted felon, btw. I ended up w/ the most serious sort of misdemeanor possible, hence the heavy probation (class A misdemeanors here are punished like low level felonies in a lot of other places).
Anyway...turns out, most medical records can be destroyed after a time, and they often are...except for psych records. Seriously. Psych records outlive the patients.
Venting, reflecting, trying to figure it out, and...of course...asking a) pray! I have -so- much more freedom in Christ, I just...sometimes, I worry that I might move, be OK, and then -bam-; I"ll end up in a hospital or something. I don't think I"m being "paranoid," either. and b) try to show a little compassion to any "severely mentally ill" people you may encounter; it can be a very, very hard life, with people from all over doing their best to keep you in line, punish you, etc. I mean...now, I am prescribed 2 psych drugs I can tolerate, I get disability. my "well-to-do" parents are kind to me and all that, and I -am- thankful. However...
I seem to be an exception to the rule. I'm actually wondering if maybe I"m an exception that helps prove the rule, which is...not good, not good at all.
I don't know. Since I must deal with Mental health, Inc., I hope maybe a little bit of Jesus shines thru to them. I don't know. My life is quiet, comfortable, etc., but...I don't know. There's also the very -real- issue of needing guidance on what I can do, realistically, with all that came before. Thru it all...God is good!
Thanks.
Deal is...I -have- moved. I moved back to an urban area in state to go back to school, and bad things happened. I moved out of state...my information followed me. I know this sounds kinda crazy, but one day...I was out in the little patio area of my small, no frills, but -safe- apt. my parents were renting for me, out of state. I could see the road from where I was. Now, here's the thing; this apt. was in the south. I"m in the south. But...souther culture is not some huge, monolithic entity. The southern culture where I grew up is different from the southern culture of where I was living, in both good ways and bad. Kinda hard to explain, I guess. Anyway...
I saw a white minivan driving by, no big thing right? Yeah...I saw a sticker on it, for a big time college in my area. Thing is...the school is well known and all, but that was the 1st and only time I saw that symbol in that area. I shrugged it off (plus, I was on a 1 year lease), and went back in. And then...
somebody managed to take out a title loan on my dad's car. He was letting me use it. I didn't find out about it until after I'd moved back home and I had a different vehicle, cuz that one died one day. Somebody tried to use my debit card, so the fraud line people told me to go the local branch and get a temporary debit card. I did, and the dude looked me up and down and said they were fresh out. I called the fraud line back and they said that was "unusual," because they almost always had plenty of those.
My parents were visiting one day, and then we went out to the parking lot and my dad noticed...somebody had switched out my brand new tire for a beat up old tire. The landlord wouldn't return calls or emails about renewing the lease, months in advance. The rent had always been paid on time, no drugs or drink, etc.
I overheard a late teens young lady talking to someone about me at church. Something about me not working, living off welfare, etc. Not true...I mean, I get disability now, which is basically welfare for the "severely mentally ill," but back then I was straight up dependent on my (loving, kind, generous, long suffering) parents. I ended up moving home a bit early, and the landlord claimed that I damaged the apt. (I didn't, btw), and they wanted 1200.
OK. While trying to go back to school, I was on a bridge, thinking about maybe jumping. Happens. So, now and then, people yell out "why didn't you jump off the bridge? we would have gone to your funeral!" and "you should have jumped off the bridge!"
The other nite, some neigbor dude yelled out about "CALL THE LAW!," and I was just in my parents' backyard, puffing on a Camel. At times, they've yelled out "we will find you WHEREVER YOU GO!" I know, sounds...crazy...truth is...for a lot of people, this is what life is like as a "mental patient."
Of course, I'm living far more comfortably than most "mental patients." I"m not trying to be snotty, its just...whoa. Thing is...if you're not poor going into "treatment," chances are pretty good you will be, after a while. Then if you're well-behaved (or, in my case, "the people have money," so I have a bit more leverage), you'll get disability. Disability, of course, will need to review the case sometimes, so you'll probably be stuck with a "mental health professional," indefinitely.
I am -not- a convicted felon, btw. I ended up w/ the most serious sort of misdemeanor possible, hence the heavy probation (class A misdemeanors here are punished like low level felonies in a lot of other places).
Anyway...turns out, most medical records can be destroyed after a time, and they often are...except for psych records. Seriously. Psych records outlive the patients.
Venting, reflecting, trying to figure it out, and...of course...asking a) pray! I have -so- much more freedom in Christ, I just...sometimes, I worry that I might move, be OK, and then -bam-; I"ll end up in a hospital or something. I don't think I"m being "paranoid," either. and b) try to show a little compassion to any "severely mentally ill" people you may encounter; it can be a very, very hard life, with people from all over doing their best to keep you in line, punish you, etc. I mean...now, I am prescribed 2 psych drugs I can tolerate, I get disability. my "well-to-do" parents are kind to me and all that, and I -am- thankful. However...
I seem to be an exception to the rule. I'm actually wondering if maybe I"m an exception that helps prove the rule, which is...not good, not good at all.
I don't know. Since I must deal with Mental health, Inc., I hope maybe a little bit of Jesus shines thru to them. I don't know. My life is quiet, comfortable, etc., but...I don't know. There's also the very -real- issue of needing guidance on what I can do, realistically, with all that came before. Thru it all...God is good!
Thanks.
