Friday Again
Here it is, Friday again. The days are racing by. The kids are home from school today and already it's a festival of cartoons, video games, waffles, fighting, and playing.
My boys can fight and play, play and fight endlessly. They are the best of friends, which is why an insult or a teasing comment has the power to cut so deeply.
Tonight is another fish fry, at least I assume so. I think we'll go to a place that has steamed shrimp, so I won't have to deal with the caloric aspect of fried fish. That'll be nice. The kids groan and grumble about going to these fish fries sometimes, but I think they secretly love them. And if they don't, they'll love the memory of them someday. Growing up Catholic. That's what it's all about.
I had lunch with my friend Mike yesterday. Mike is another witness in the upcoming trial. I need to see him from time to time. Even if we don't talk about the trial, it helps me to stay connected to him because he is in a similar position as I. He is a friend of the defendant, and he understands the horror, frustration and sadness of having a friend do the stupidest possible thing a person can do. He also happens to be a lawyer, so he helps me understand the process and is able to speculate on the legal aspects of the upcoming trial.
Mike told me that his brother was at the World Trade Center on September 11. This came up as we were discussing post traumatic stress. Mike's brother was in the lobby of the tower that was hit first, and when he evacuated the building, he saw the second plane hit the other tower. He said that people started jumping almost immediately. He saw people holding hands and jumping. He watched the buildings collapse. And now, over five years later, he's still seeing a psychiatrist and he's still taking medication. His life fell apart and he's still struggling to put it back together.
Sadly, I can imagine what that's like.
Life is such a struggle sometimes. Everybody struggles, it's universal. Everybody encounters trauma and loss and stress. Bad things happen to people, it doesn't matter who you are, if you're "good" or "bad." The most fortunate of us have the mental health and support and faith to work through the trauma. And the rest? Let's be honest. They're on their own. Good luck. There is virtually no understanding of mental illness, PTSD, depression, ED, addiction, and
the myriad of other mental disorders. In my opinion, all psych drugs are experimental. Someday we'll look back at this era and realize that we're in the dark ages of mental health. Maybe I'm jaded. I've been burned. But I digress. Don't I always?
It's Friday again. And I'm among the fortunate.
My boys can fight and play, play and fight endlessly. They are the best of friends, which is why an insult or a teasing comment has the power to cut so deeply.
Tonight is another fish fry, at least I assume so. I think we'll go to a place that has steamed shrimp, so I won't have to deal with the caloric aspect of fried fish. That'll be nice. The kids groan and grumble about going to these fish fries sometimes, but I think they secretly love them. And if they don't, they'll love the memory of them someday. Growing up Catholic. That's what it's all about.
I had lunch with my friend Mike yesterday. Mike is another witness in the upcoming trial. I need to see him from time to time. Even if we don't talk about the trial, it helps me to stay connected to him because he is in a similar position as I. He is a friend of the defendant, and he understands the horror, frustration and sadness of having a friend do the stupidest possible thing a person can do. He also happens to be a lawyer, so he helps me understand the process and is able to speculate on the legal aspects of the upcoming trial.
Mike told me that his brother was at the World Trade Center on September 11. This came up as we were discussing post traumatic stress. Mike's brother was in the lobby of the tower that was hit first, and when he evacuated the building, he saw the second plane hit the other tower. He said that people started jumping almost immediately. He saw people holding hands and jumping. He watched the buildings collapse. And now, over five years later, he's still seeing a psychiatrist and he's still taking medication. His life fell apart and he's still struggling to put it back together.
Sadly, I can imagine what that's like.
Life is such a struggle sometimes. Everybody struggles, it's universal. Everybody encounters trauma and loss and stress. Bad things happen to people, it doesn't matter who you are, if you're "good" or "bad." The most fortunate of us have the mental health and support and faith to work through the trauma. And the rest? Let's be honest. They're on their own. Good luck. There is virtually no understanding of mental illness, PTSD, depression, ED, addiction, and
the myriad of other mental disorders. In my opinion, all psych drugs are experimental. Someday we'll look back at this era and realize that we're in the dark ages of mental health. Maybe I'm jaded. I've been burned. But I digress. Don't I always?
It's Friday again. And I'm among the fortunate.
posted by Juanita at
7:36 AM
2 Comments:
What a powerful post.
Have a great weekend.
We're totally in the dark ages in mental health! But we're better than we were a while ago. There's a whole lot less stigma today than 20 years ago.
I was talking to some friends at work and mentioned being on antidepressants after Lil was born...the conversation came to a halt...they froze. It was kind of funny to me. Almost everyone I know is on or has been on some pharmaceutical for mental health reasons.
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