| Tuesday March 21, 2000 I’ve
been wondering exactly how to re-introduce Jeffrey to the picture. Besides being a little
gun-shy, I decided to wait and see how things would pan out. I understand that given the
volatility of both our natures and of our relationship it makes for slightly less
interesting reading. But turning around an old advertising metaphor, I’m going for
the steak not the sizzle. Fortunately, last Wednesday’s mail gave me a jumping-off
point:
It has been nearly a full month since you mentioned Jeffrey. I think that has to be a
good thing. To put it bluntly, it's about time you started putting yourself first instead
of being preoccupied with him all the time. Even so, it would be nice to know how he's
getting on.
And from another reader:
My advice is to reintroduce him just as it happened. Fuck all the holier-than-thou
queens who can't handle it! It's your life to live - not theirs!
Jeffrey was released from jail four weeks ago yesterday. I did not post bail. I
didn’t need to.
Negotiations between the District Attorney and the Public Defender resulted in a plea
bargain, which would draw a 15-day sentence. Since Jeffrey had already served more than
that amount of time, but the court date wasn’t for another ten days. Pre-Trial
arranged his release in order to save money for the taxpayers. When he appeared in court,
his PD was ill and the substitute didn’t have the case file, so sentencing was
rescheduled for next month.
Last Thursday as I prepared to finish this, something happened which I can only describe
as wonderful. I postponed posting what I’d written last Wednesday because I
wasn’t sure at the time if it was something wonderful, and I didn’t know if it
might change the way I felt, and by extension, if it would change what I’d written.
And I wanted Jeffrey’s permission to share something many people would keep private
out of shame or embarrassment. So I waited. And sure enough, my interpretation of recent
events changed, and Sunday night he gave me permission to share recent events. So
I’ve rewritten a lot of what I wrote last week.
What happened? Last Thursday, entirely by his own decision,
Jeffrey checked himself into the psychiatric ward of a local hospital. What he learned
since he went to jail in early February is that what drives his alcohol and drug use are
his psychiatric issues. Left untreated, the only way he knew how to cope with them was
staying drunk or high.
His criminal activities are in support of his alcohol and drug use. His behavioral issues
are a result of his alcohol and drug use. The only way to address the whole ball of wax is
to address the core psychiatric issues from a medical and counseling standpoint.
Without being independently wealthy or having medical insurance, the only way to obtain
psychiatric help is to have a crisis and go inpatient. Going inpatient is a dangerous
proposition because once admitted, voluntarily or not, only the treatment team can let you
out. Period.
The intake evaluation determines eligibility on both a medical and financial basis. New
York State law requires admission based upon certain medical parameters, which Jeffrey
met. This gets the ball rolling on Medicaid. Once that’s in place, a treatment
program can be undertaken.
Tonight I learned that the treatment team has decided Jeffrey’s ready to move from
inpatient to intensive outpatient. His last inpatient day is tomorrow. Starting Thursday
he goes to outpatient from 9:30 to 2:30 weekdays. Jeffrey will make his home here for the
foreseeable future. This will be his first long-term stay here since December.
Here’s all that remains of what I wrote last week:
Jeffrey had spent perhaps four nights here since his release from jail. We’re both
being careful in that regard. Still, it’s been difficult. I’ve had to learn to
stick to my guns without doing it in a hurtful manner and without feeling guilty about it
afterwards. Jeffrey’s had to learn that my refusals aren’t betrayals. The
difficult part is not learning the new, but rather it’s unlearning the old.
It’s not gone smooth as silk, but there haven’t been any fights either.
We’ve each moved along two-steps forward, one-step back. That may not sound very
good, but in fact it’s a reversal of our progress through the autumn and early
winter. Overall, I’ve kept my goals modest and for the most part have achieved them.
I’ve made my points gently and given him encouragement and complements when things
have gone well. It’s been much harder for me on the other side. My tendency is to
avoid discussion of disappointments. Then my feelings fester and build and at an
inopportune moment I burst. Getting them out in the open right away and doing so without
anger is the single most difficult thing I’ve ever had to learn. It’s awkward,
but I’m making progress, probably because I’m getting so much practice.
For his part, Jeffrey has been doing the same with me. He’s having less success with
expressing his disappointments in me because he’s generally been drunk.
Of course a whole lot has changed since then. I found that the disappointment I felt
was misplaced. I felt disappointed with Jeffrey because he had been drinking, and heavily
at that. I was disappointed that he had smoked a few times. Although understandable, I
wasn’t looking at things in the proper context.
Jeffrey has made the decision to change his life. He just doesn’t
know how to go about doing it. He was unable to change while I was enabling his drinking
and addiction. So he engineered a way to go get away from me and others by going to jail
to detox.
Then I saw the light regarding my enabling and I stopped. When he was released, it
wasn’t long before the same pressures and issues he’s always been unable to cope
with returned, and he resorted to the only coping method he’s known.
It took him just over three weeks, but when he realized what he’d done, he checked
himself in to the hospital. He’s now going after the roots of his issues with
professional help. Essentially he gave up. He surrendered to his illness, saying, “I
don’t know how to do it. I need help.” Then he put his life into the hands of
professionals. And more importantly, he's following their advice.
The man has more courage and determination than anyone I know. Including me.
As I told Jeffrey when I was
visiting him at the hospital the other night, “I have just as much right to be here
as you do.” His reply? “There’s two empty beds on the unit. One’s on
the south side with a window.” 
The depression is only slightly less debilitating as it was two weeks ago. And although it
may seem that Jeffrey is the biggest issue in my mind, he isn’t. The two issues that
loom over me are employment and housing.
Hardly a day goes by without some employer telling me I’m worthless. I am so tired of
looking for work. If it weren’t for the fact that unemployment pays me so well,
I’d take the part-time job they have open at The Corner Store. At least they believe
I’m capable of being productive.
Legally, right now I have to take any job that pays me at least 80% of my former salary.
On a personal level, I’d take any job that pays me at least 50% of my former salary.
My unemployment runs out in the middle of May. By then I’ll be taking any job,
period.
I need to find a new apartment by June 1st. I have nothing for a security
deposit, nor do I know how much I’ll be able to afford.
These two issues keep the committee in session 24x7. “You don’t deserve to have
a good job or a nice place to live or a boyfriend.” Ooops, that’s three issues.
Around and around they go. No wonder I can’t sleep at night.
Evening, Friday March 24, 2000
Well, it’s not a fish fry, but it’s heading in the right
direction. My dinner tonight is leftover salmon burgers and home fries from
yesterday’s lunch.
This is the third Friday in a row when my plans to go out for a fish fry have been
thwarted. I’m not Catholic, so it’s not a religious issue. It’s just been a
long time since I had a fish fry and with five unemployment checks in the month, I can
afford to blow a few dollars in a restaurant.
Two weeks ago, Jeffrey forgot about our plans and didn’t come home until too late,
and I hadn’t made backup plans. Last week Jeffrey was in the hospital and try as I
might, I couldn’t find anyone else who wanted to go out. While I don’t mind
eating dinner alone in a hotel restaurant, I don’t care for it in a local diner. At
lunch it’s okay, but at dinner I feel so lonesome and pathetic. This week, I’m
sick and despite the divine weather we’ve had since Wednesday, I just can’t
muster up the energy to get fixed-up and go out.
Interesting story about the salmon burgers. It seems that when you’re officially
homeless, as Jeffrey is, you get lovely parting gifts when checking out of the psych ward
of the hospital. They sent him down to the Salvation Army where he got a bag of groceries,
a $10 voucher for one of the grocery chains and an $800 voucher for furniture, valid when
he has an address of his own.
He was also supposed to get enough meds to tide him over until his Medicaid application is
complete. Something went amiss in the paperwork and they wouldn’t give him his meds.
Nor could he get more from the hospital. I don’t know the full details, but it’s
supposed to be straightened out on Monday. Meanwhile, he’s slowly coming unglued
again…
Anyway, a one-pound can of salmon was in the bag of groceries he got yesterday. So he made
salmon burgers within minutes of arriving home yesterday. I’ve never had salmon
burgers before, and he’s never made them. His improvisation turned out to be quite
tasty and remarkably close to a recipe I found in one of my cookbooks tonight.
There is a side benefit when I’m sick and Jeffrey’s well. He cooks. And frankly,
although it’s never happened, even if it turned out terrible just that I didn’t
have to cook would make up for it. When things turn out excellent as they usually do, it
almost makes it worth being sick.
I caught a cold last weekend, (see story below.) It hit late Tuesday and I’ve been in
bed for the better part of the past three days. I got out briefly to do the banking
yesterday, but other than that, I’ve been down.
Of course this adds another chapter to my sleeping difficulties story. I had resorted last
week to using Benadryl to help me nod off. Yeah, it’s a drug induced altered state,
but I’ve gotten bored with the insomnia induced delirium. I never thought about it
Wednesday night and when I took it at bedtime, everything turned to concrete in my head,
and so I got no sleep.
Last night I couldn’t get to sleep and remembering the previous night’s
concrete, Benadryl was out of the question. The cold symptoms compound the sleeping
difficulties because I can’t breathe unless I sit up or lie on my back. I find it
impossible to sleep in either position. In my preferred sleeping positions on my side or
on my belly, just as I drift off my head plugs up solid and I wake up. I finally dozed off
around noon today and slept until the phone rang at around 4:00.
So I’ve had four hours sleep since I awoke Wednesday morning. That’s my excuse
for this rambling entry.
In the wee hours of Wednesday morning I started an entry I planned to finish and post
later in the day. I didn’t get back to it and I completely forgot about it until I
fired up Word this evening.
Wednesday March 22, 2000
Sunday I got a megadose of family and all things suburban. My parents picked me up and
took me to a combined birthday party for my brother Doug (40), my niece Jackie (13) and
one of Doug’s in-law’s kids, Adam (2).
No one told me before hand that the party was so far out of the city that it was in
another county altogether. The setting was my sister-in-law Cindy’s brother’s
farmhouse about 35 miles west of downtown, which is to say it’s not quite halfway to
Buffalo. I was trapped there for five hours.
It turned out that this was a fairly big bash. Cindy’s family is quite large and they
all seem to have married into large families. I didn’t actually count, but I’d
guess that there were three to four dozen people spread through the place. And it’s a
good thing the farmhouse was large and rambling and the weather nice enough to use the
deck because of this population, easily a dozen were screaming toddlers.
These were the most tedious five hours I’ve spent in recent memory. I knew only a
dozen or so adults, no one thought to introduce me to anyone, those people I didn’t
know were all cool as cucumbers when I tried to make conversation and my family was at
it’s usual.
For example, the only words spoken to me by my other sister-in-law, Mary Beth, went like
this:
“Hi. You know you really could use a haircut.”
I bit my tongue and rather than reply with something truthful like, “Have they
lynched whoever gave you that awful dye job?” I lied and said, “Oh but yours
looks so nice.”
End of conversation.
And it was a truly awful dye job. She had such beautiful loosely curled auburn hair, which
she’s straightened, bleached and dyed to a flat, lifeless cantaloupe color. And
it’s cut in some sort of pageboy gone horribly wrong. Suffice it to say that if
anyone ever did something like that to my hair, you’d be reading headlines like:
Crazed Fag Shoots Hairdresser Then Turns Gun on
Self
Bad Cut and Dye Job Thought to be at Blame
Birthday girl Jackie never said boo to me, even while riding back into
the city with my parents and I. But she rushed right out and cashed that check first thing
Monday morning. Don’t these kids go to school any more?
She’s starting to make me feel old. I now officially have a teenaged niece. And since
Christmas, she’s sprouted boobs. Not just your average training bra sized tits, but
great big honkin’ knockers that have probably doubled her weight! Who knew they grew
so fast?
And of course now one of my two little brothers is now 40. I caught him stretching his
arms out so he could read his birthday cards. (I at least got a “Thanks” out of
him for his card.)
That’s as far as I got.
Between writing about Jeffrey
and remembering another conversation from last Sunday, I was thinking earlier about the
Census. My youngest brother, Glenn, commented at the party that he was going to have his
kids fill out the form since they, in fact, rule the house. Sounds about right to me.
I got a nag card in the mail this week asking me to mail the Census form back “as
soon as possible.” The instructions on the form itself indicate it should include
“people staying here on April 1, 2000 who have no other place to stay” and it
should not include “people in a correctional facility, nursing home or mental
hospital on April 1, 2000.” Since Jeffrey may fall into either category on April 1st
or hemay not be here at all. In the interest of accuracy I’m waiting until then to
fill out the form.
Question: Why did they send me a nag card dated March 20th for
a form that's not supposed to be filled out until April 1st?
Answer: It’s the federal government and they have a long-standing
policy requiring conflicting instructions to be given for every government form. This
preserves and protects Civil Service positions in the bureaucracy.
The Annals of Improbable Research has recently asked
the question, “What is the minimum number of people needed to constitute a
bureaucracy?” Click
here for the answer.
Late evening, Saturday March 25, 2000
I actually got nine hours of sleep last night! And my cold has broken
too! And the weather stayed nice!
I got out twice today. I did the grocery shopping in the early afternoon, and a friend,
Derrell picked me up on his way to the reservation to buy cigarettes. It saved me almost
$20 per carton. And the two-hour round trip was enjoyable.
In between I worked a little on the site. In a journal entry a while back, Iain Jackson asked for suggestions
regarding navigation issues on his site. I sent a couple of comments and asked if he would
return the favor by critiquing the navigation on my site. Around the same time I asked
several other people for their comments.
Today, over a month later, I finally started implementing the changes suggested by Iain, Carlos and several others. I had journal stuff all
over the place and there wasn’t a single page that pulled it all together. I’m
still working out the details, like how do I want to present the links, (text vs.
graphics, and if graphics, should I use an image map, make my own buttons or let FrontPage
generate buttons,) and I have a new page or two to write.
A new page, Journal, replaces the old Present page,
(you’ll want to update your Bookmarks or Favorites and any links that reference the
Present page,) and the Past and Future pages have bitten the dust.
The Journal page has begun life as a clone of the old Present page but will soon
incorporate links to everything “journalish” on the site. I’m still open to
suggestions on how to present the links and lay out the page.
Other than that, there’s not much else to report. Now I’m going to try for two
nights of decent sleep in a row. Wish me luck, and pleasant dreams. |
