Fate is wicked smart. Normally, she spends the day out in Maria’s studio, going out to sit and watch the sheep. It was awfully hot today. The door to my study was closed, so Fate went around through the living room and into the front hallway and nosed open the side door, which I absolutely never use.
She figured out just where the door was and what it led to and popped up next to me looking for something to chew, which she received. Then she went over to my newly cleared up wall, under the posterboard for Lou Jacobs, my favorite clown and took a nap in my air-conditioned room.
It was the first time she has ever slept in that room during the day, and she was most welcome. That spot has been favored by other dogs, including Frieda, Lenore and Gus. She looked good there. Red sleeps right alongside of me.
It’s going to be hot tomorrow as well, I’ll see if she returns.
I saw Kelly this afternoon at the Mansion, and I wanted to give you an update on our (successful) effort to raise money to get her out of her tent and into an apartment or trailer.
You might remember her, she is a veteran certified nurse’s aide who has been living in a tent for several months because she couldn’t afford the deposit and rent advances to get an apartment.
We raised enough money to pay for her to rent on either a trailer or apartment. We also have raised enough to help her buy some of the things she will need in her new apartment. She is very close to finding one or the other.
Her plans changed just last night.
For personal reasons that I don’t wish to talk about, Kelly has decided not to rent her new apartment with her daughter and grandson, but on her own.
I can say that I believe this to be a good and wise decision for her, but it is her business, not mine or anyone else’s.
I am very happy that we can help her get out of the tent.
This was a hellish week to be in a tent up here, or in most of America.
There were storms and torrential rains almost every day and night.
More are coming tomorrow. Nobody who does the work Kelly does should be living in a tent because the wages of working class Americans have not risen in 20 years while the cost of everything and corporate profits have soared.
The weather was so bad I contacted Kelly earlier in the week and asked her if she wanted to stay in a motel for a day or two. Kelly is stubborn and independent. Just as she resisted help in putting money down for rent, she is also fairly determined not to take any more help. She hates asking for help.
I think she will definitely need some more help, and I will keep encouraging her to accept it.
She needs some more assistance and support to get settled, she has worked hard almost every day of her life and fell behind on her bills. I have already received enough money to help her, and any additional funds will be put to good use on her behalf.
The good news is that she is closing in on some one-bedroom apartments in this area, she is hopeful of finding one in her hometown of Salem, N.Y., tomorrow or over the weekend. I’ve been working with her to find listings in the area, the rental market is the tightest I’ve ever seen it around here, and the most expensive.
Kelly also has a small eleven-year-old dog she won’t give up, and that makes renting harder. My guess is that her grandson will be spending considerable time with her.
We are close to getting her out of that tent, and we will get there. We have enough money to pay her deposits, etc. and to help her purchase some essential things for the apartment. If anyone wants to send additional donations, I will make sure they get to her.
You can send them to me, marked “Kelly,” and to Jon Katz, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816, and via Paypal, [email protected].
I want to empathize that we have enough money to pay her deposit and first months rent and help her get some things she needs for the apartment.
Kelly will need some support for a month or so, I gather. I’d like to provide that help. I am immensely grateful for the outpouring of support for her, one of the dedicated workers who takes care of our aging mothers with love and compassion.
You might say the same for all of the aides and staff at the Mansion. It is a caring place.
But no one else I know of is living in a tent. If they are, I hope they will tell me and the Army Of Good.
Thanks so much for your support. When Kelly finds her apartment, I will go and take a picture of it.
We had yet another heat advisory, the humidity was gripping, and doesn’t interact well the medications I take. I went over to the Mansion for a brief visit to see Kelly (more about shortly) and also to commit a few acts of random great kindness.
It was nice to see so many doors closed in the heat. That meant the air conditioners were on. The Army Of Good bought more than $300 worth of air conditioners for the residents who needed them in the summer heat. Everyone who wanted one got one. And thanks.
I went to see Sylvie and gave her stamps and notecards and a tote bag or two. She wants and needs more and I told her a bunch are on the way from the Army Of Good. She says thank you.
I went and gave Tim a card reader to go with the used Canon Power Shot I gave him in advance of his leg surgery in September. His leg is being amputated and he needs some creative tasks, he will love photography.
I gave Winnie a big beautiful book on birds. She loves birds.
Then I got a gift. Peggie gave Maria and I some artwork she had been working on for two days. So I got a small act of kindness back. And a big hug.
You can write to the Mansion residents c/o The Gus Fund, Jon Katz, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816, or via Paypal, [email protected]. I’m raising funds for a $600 to $700 boat ride and lunch for the Mansion residents in early September to celebrate Assisted Care Week. They can dance and eat well and look out at beautiful Lake George.
I’m raising $500 to get the soccer team a ride on the Boston Duck Boats (very safe ones) along with tickets to the New England Aquarium, they are on fire to see the giant octopus exhibit there. I have $500 already.
I’m trying to arrange it so they can touch an octopus in Boston. (Maria would love to do the same thing.) We chose a Boston trip over the Statue of Liberty because it is just much cheaper and easier. We’ll try and do the Statue of Liberty later, when we have more money and away from the summer mobs.
For the past few weeks, I have been sitting with my friend Ed Gulley as he slowly succumbs to a virulent kind of brain cancer. People ask me if this is difficult, but the truth is that most days I simply feel grateful not to be lying in that bed. It seems quite selfish for me to feel sad.
I get to recover from my illness every single day. I suffer from mental illness.
I did not really accept the idea that I was mentally until I was 60 years old and simply fell apart and nearly lost my life.
That experience finally caused me to wake up and recognize the seriousness of my mental disarray and the need for me to get real help. I remain abashed by how long it took, although I also have discovered that I am in good company.
The National Alliance On Mental Illness reports that approximately one in five adults in the United States – 43.8 million – experience mental illness in a given year. About ten million of those people, says the alliance, experience a serious mental illness that substantially interferes with or limits one or more major life activities.
That was me. My illness substantially and almost completely interfered with many major life activities – love, sex, health, work, friendship, perspective, family and managing my life.
I recently asked a friend who has completely lost perspective on her life – she is living a horror story – whether she had considered therapy, and she looked at me as if i had just swallowed a toad. If it hadn’t happened to me, I don’t think I could have fathomed how someone in so much pain and difficulty had never considered getting any real help.
Yet so few people who are mentally ill ever get help.
But that is the thing about mental illness, it so often means that you can’t see how much help you are in, or accept it. When I said I thought she needed to see a therapist, she just blinked and said, “okay,” and she called on up. Anything can seem normal if you do it often enough, even sitting by the bedside of a dying friend.
My friend’s response was so simple I wondered why I had waited so long to say something. I don’t believe in giving unwanted advice and I don’t believe in telling other people what to do. But I’m glad I did.
I remembered what my own therapist told me. Most people who need help won’t ask for help or can’t afford to get any help. Most people don’t want to change. As a country, we are mentally ill when it comes to mental illness, and perhaps that ought not to be surprising.
I did ask for help and I learned some basic tools and insights that have steadied me and brought me close to the life I always wanted. My illness no longer interferes with life’s major activities, in fact it has helped to make them possible.
Mental illness was not a simple thing for me to accept or deal with. The movies usually offer a “holy moment” where some movie star shrink says “it’s not your fault,” and the struggling patient sees the light and returns to his or her ordinary life.
But life, of course, is not Hollywood. And I no longer had an ordinary life. I had to build one, to start over.
I found that mental illness is very often treatable but not often curable. I understand that my mental illness – trauma and anxiety issues – will always be a part of me and will never completely go away. I have to be vigilant and self-aware. I have to carefully consider almost every decision I make.
I also have been diagnosed with Dyslexia and it is sometimes hard for me to know where that disorder begins and my craziness ends.
Dyslexia, as some of you know is a disease caused by disorders in the brain, which mix up things, including sounds, letters, and words. People with dyslexia sometimes have poor memories and difficulties in reading, writing and communicating with other people. They get confused by symbols and reasoning – math, organization, machine tasks.
All my life, I have been corrected by people who believe spelling and conjunctive clauses add up to good writing. It wasn’t until I figured out that this was a lie that I became a successful writer, work I have been managing to do almost all of my life.
My Dyslexia diagnosis was a relief, I finally understood why I had so much trouble learning things in school, while so many people were so eager to correct and lecture me on my unrealized potential. Social media are like that, it spawns legions of people who love to correct things. It was great to know I wasn’t stupid or lazy.
I have come an awful long way since I learned that I suffered from mental illness. Mostly, the fear and panic that shaped my life is gone. I am learning who I really am and liking me for the first time. I know who to listen to and who to ignore.
The thing is, there is help, and help helps.
I understand the power of co-dependence and know to build boundaries in my life and respect them. I know to stay away from unhealthy people, or people who traffic in guilt, self-pity or manipulation. If it doesn’t feel good, run, don’t walk away.
I no longer give huge pieces of myself to other people, or take them from others. My illness taught me to look inward, not outward, for healing. I do not blame others for my troubles. I simply work hard to get better.
I have spent many hours now watching my friend Ed, a good farmer and family man, begin to die. He knows and I know and his family knows that he will never recover from the ten tumors rapidly taking over his brain and his body.
I used to feel sorry for people who had some form of mental illness, I felt pity for them. I do not feel sorry for them any longer.
Maria has had difficulties finding hair cutters who will cut her hair the way she likes it. She gets anxious during hair cuts, she has a hard time telling the hair cutters that what they are doing is not what she wants.
It’s a throwback of some kind to the helplessness she felt growing up. After a couple of years like this, I volunteered to give haircutting a try. I had never cut anyone’s hair in my life before, but I felt I knew what she wanted.
She didn’t want her hair curling out on the sides, she wanted it to fit alongside of her head. She was happy with my first cut, but I have improved. I cut it now when her hair is wet, and I use my own razor to trim the hair on the back of her neck.
I go evenly along the side and around the back. It took less than ten minutes altogether. She was very happy with it, and i have to say, I am proud of myself. If there are two things i love in the world, it is learning something new and making Maria happy.
Two for two. I have to say I think it looks fine. Perhaps a new career track for me.
