Mental Health

It’s interesting to realize that because of psychiatrists and psychologists and therapists and mental health workers and chemists who created medicine for individuals with mental health issues from minor to severe I am healthy and strong.

Because these men and women dedicated their education and their careers to helping people who struggle with their mental health I was able to receive the treatment I needed and support and the prescribed medication I need to live a happy and healthy life.

While I don’t interact or come in contact with the men and women who make up these professions on a daily weekly or monthly basis or at all, some of them I meet with regularly like the therapist I schedule appointments with to talk to. She is a professional who listens to me and supports me and gives me advice when she sees fit.

As a man living with my pet therapy dog I don’t take everywhere, to the dog park mostly it is good to speak with my therapist from time to time at our meetings where I tell her about my life and am listened to. I can ask for advice and she’s happy to give it to me. It is good that I can afford my medication. It is good that refills are sent to me in the mail regularly. Taking the prescribed dose every day helps me manage my responsibilities, keeps me on an even keel and at 48 enables me to live an independent productive life in the apartment I live in and lease.

I have received direct support over the years from every professional I listed above. While I have not met a chemist I have met men and women working in a pharmacy who helped fill my prescription.

I am not alone in my community. The professionals I mentioned work hard to help many people in our community and beyond. They went to College and graduated and got careers in their field of study. I don’t know them by name. I know my therapists name.

In general if I come in contact with the professionals I mentioned it is by chance, at a grocery store, at Church, while doing errands. They don’t know me like they did when I was receiving their direct support but they might remember my name from when they worked with me.

These professionals work with a lot of people to improve their mental health. People in my community are directly benefited from their work and indirectly benefited from their work. People in my community are in all stages of mental health, from good to needing hands on support safe and secure in a hospital behind locked doors where they are best cared for and have the best opportunities to recover.

This is difficult for some people to accept that they need to be placed or put or to stay in a psychiatric hospital for the opportunity to recover. Often the patients in a psychiatric hospital are there because they are considered a threat to their own well being or a threat to other peoples well being. They need to stay in the psychiatric hospital until it’s determined that they are not going to hurt themselves or anyone else.

This is a reality of living in society. Not everyone is safe to be around. Not everyone gets the help and support they need to recover and live a healthy happy life. There are many homeless people in my community for many reasons.

Some people were born into families experiencing homelessness and grew up homeless. Other people became homeless later in life for many reasons.

Some people lost their home because they lost their work and were not able to afford to pay for a home to live in.

Many people live paycheck to paycheck and have very little savings. If something happens such as a car accident and they are injured and unable to make a full recovery and are unable to return to work sometimes they become homeless.

Sometimes members of a persons family dies or their whole family dies and the people they needed most for support and care are gone. This can be devastating and without receiving the support and care they were used to they become homeless.

A natural disaster can be devastating such as a fire or and earthquake that leaves peoples homes burnt to the ground or rubble and sometimes they are not able to recover and become homeless.

Sometimes American Veterans of foreign wars are injured defending American interests and the Veterans who survive and who made it back to the United States are not always cared for enough and have become homeless.

Sometimes people make poor decisions such as taking illegal drugs which seriously compromises their mental health and their physical health and their safety and the safety and well being of others and they become homeless.

Sometimes people who have a good home and live a stable life have a mental health weakness and need support and prescribed medication to be able to manage all their responsibilities that enables them to maintain their home and stable life. Sometimes these people with a mental health weakness refuse to take prescribed medication and their mental health deteriorates. They no longer make healthy and wise decisions and could become homeless.

I grew up in a home and had a home to live in until I was 30 years old. At 27 I was diagnosed as having bi-polar disease. At one point I refused to take medication prescribed to me and slowly but surely my mental health deteriorated. I could no longer hold down a job. I had no savings and the little money I had was soon spent. I could not afford to rent a home and at 30 became homeless. I was homeless for one year when I was put in a psychiatric hospital where I began to recover.

When I recovered to a point where I was able to leave the psychiatric hospital on my own my family took me in where I continued to recover. One season later I was living in a home I shared with the landlord I rented a room from and went back to work full time at a liquor store in my home town.

Having grown up in stable housing for 30 years mostly with family and then on my own where I turned 18 the memories of being homeless for one year were very difficult for me to accept. I wished the memories would disappear like a bad dream. Instead of learning what not to do from being homeless the sad fact that I had been homeless ate away at me.

From 31-35 I remained housed and employed. I had a very difficult time accepting that I had been homeless. At one point I stopped taking the medication that was prescribed to me. During that time I also started using illegal drugs. The decisions I was making put me in danger physically, mentally and legally. I took risks that were not wise. My mental health was strained and I was working too much, overtime almost every week. I was addicted to illegal drugs, methamphetamine and cocaine and I drank alcohol regularly.

I could no longer manage my responsibilities. My mental health broke down. I closed the business I had started and soon spent all my savings. Before long I could no longer afford to pay for the room in the house I leased and became homeless a second time at 35.

From 35-37 I was homeless in my hometown of Boulder and in Denver Colorado. I refused to take the medication that would have helped me recover. I lost all my possessions other than the clothes I wore and a backpack with supplies for living outdoors. My family helped me as they could and were unwilling to let me live with them because I was not taking the prescribed medication. My ability to communicate was limited. I hallucinated visions and sounds that were not real. I had a difficult time understanding people.

At 37 I got in contact with my mom in Oregon. She invited me to move to Oregon to be closer to her. My mom did not let me move in with her and she did help me get some medical help for my feet that I desperately needed. My mom met me from time to time with gifts like a new backpack and a new sleeping bag and meals and water. I was nomadic, traveling every day rarely sleeping in the same place. I trusted few people and did not make friends with other homeless people. I was very stubborn and still refused to take the medication.

At 41 I was still homeless living outside most nights and sometimes at a warming center for a night. I had become a public nuisance and often was placed in custody for disturbing the peace and stayed one two or three nights in Jail. One day the police took me into custody and put me in a psychiatric hospital where my recovery began. I started taking my prescribed medication every day. After three months in two separate psychiatric hospitals I recovered enough to leave.

I still had a lot of recovering to do and Social Services paid for a motel room for one month for me to stay in. From living in a motel I moved to a Mission where I lived for 6 months. During this time I attended Church services every Sunday and studied the bible every day. I helped doing chores every day keeping the Mission clean and volunteered in the kitchen helping prepare meals for the residents and guests of the Mission.

During this time my mom helped me apply for SSDI. Several months after my application to Social Security for SSDI I received an award letter. Social Security awarded me SSDI. Soon after I moved out of the Mission into a shared apartment with three other adults. I lived in the apartment for one year. During that time I went back to work part time. I also sought out a therapist I found at psychology.com who agreed to work with me. I’ve been meeting the same therapist regularly since.

One year later I moved out of the shared apartment into my own apartment where I live. I have lived in this apartment for four and one half years. My apartment is in a safe neighborhood. I have a pet therapy dog. I take my prescribed medication every day since my recovery began over 5 years ago. I manage the money I receive as SSDI payments on my own and I manage the money I earn from my part time work. I have a car and am able to drive around town to do my errands and go to work. Recently I went on vacation with my dog and drove to where I went fishing for three days on Upper Rogue River.

I’ve come a long way since experiencing homelessness. I am physically strong and my mental health has improved very much. I will need to take my prescription for the rest of my life and I agree to taking it. I wouldn’t want to be homeless for one day.

 From time to time I remember when I was homeless and am compassionate with the memory. I don’t avoid the memory of being homeless. Sometimes the memories of when I was homeless enters my thoughts during the day. Other times a memory of when I was homeless enters my thoughts when I’m in bed. They are not pleasant thoughts. In fact they are thoughts about survival and of what I’ve overcome. I don’t dwell on those thoughts. I sit with them or lay with them in bed then let them pass.

Sometimes I see a homeless person in public and hope they make it safe to where they are able to recover. Seeing a homeless person sometimes reminds me of when I was homeless and I know that the person I’m looking at is a unique individual with their own past and present circumstances that have nothing to do with me other than visual proximity. Me having been homeless was not a character flaw, it happened to me because of an accumulation of poor choices and unwise actions.

I would only be telling part of the story if I didn’t mention the many men and women and even young adult volunteers who fed me meals and opened up overnight shelters and warming centers where I received life sustaining support. Many people donated socks and shoes and all the clothes I wore when I was homeless.

Since the first time I was placed in a psychiatric hospital I’ve returned to different psychiatric hospitals 8 times if my memory serves. I don’t have a clear memory of every time I was a patient in a psychiatric hospital. Some of those memories are vague and blurred together. My best guess is I’ve been a patient in a psychiatric hospital 8 times. I was always happy to leave every psychiatric hospital I was a patient in when I recovered enough and released. During those stays I was diagnosed as schizoaffective and then later as schizophrenic.

The last time I was released from a psychiatric hospital was May 2021. I have been in recovery since. I’m grateful health care workers are on staff in psychiatric hospitals every day and every night of the year. Mental health professionals at work have a lot to do with why I’m alive and well. If you or someone you know is struggling with their mental health, please contact a psychiatrist or a therapist for help. Life is better with you.

 I hope my words will help people who want to understand some of the reasons people become homeless and will help people who are struggling with their mental health or with homelessness, giving them hope that they can recover and live a happy healthy law-abiding life in peace and in comfort.