Breathe
Back in the '80s...or maybe it was the '70s, I remember hearing about some self-help book titled, "I'm OK, You're OK." I think it's a great title, but unfortnately I cannot relate right now. I am not OK. My family is not OK. Oh yes, in the greater scheme of things we have food, water and shelter; two incomes; two great kids and live in a country that despite all its backward flaws and quirks is a pretty damn good place to live. But in the past week my life was turned on its head when I found out that mental health is NOT something to take for granted. Last Tuesday I spent 7+ hours in the Emergency Room psych unit at the local hospital. Out of respect of privacy for the individual involved, I am not going to say who, but let it be known that it was a very sad place and not one I want to revisit. The walls were that soft blue meant to calm. The rooms had no doors for protection and observation. And the lifeless shapes of people obviously desperate enough ...