Tag: opportunity

Mental Health Stories of courage and resilience Part 1

A to Z challenge and the letter Y

A few days ago I wrote a whimsical post about the fun side of living on the edge of reality. As I wrote that post, I made a promise to myself and to the ghosts of past clients, that I would tell their stories of courage, resilience, and survival. I knew just where to put it. I was working on the April 2018 A to Z Challenge and I worked on the story while waiting for the letter “Y” because Y is for The You Inside and I haven’t forgotten. Because these are the stories of real people, I wanted to take time and be true to them. I will post each story as a different part this week.  I also decided to hold the post a few days because, since 1949, May has been Mental Health Awareness Month. This year Mental Health Awareness Week is May 14-20, 2018.

Case Manager Vs. Life Coach

In a previous life, I was hired by the Department of Mental Health to join an army of professionals and para-professionals. We were tasked with providing community services for persons with recurring and persistent mental illness as the push for deinstitutionalization continued from the previous decade. New medications were addressing the symptoms of their illness and we were going to help them return to their communities to find a “life worth living”. I was a Case Manager. Actually, I considered myself more of a Life Coach; I was ahead of my time. I can fill my days simply writing the stories of the men and women I’ve met. Instead, I will tell you of the snapshots that jump from my memory when I see the news or hear the debate about affordable healthcare.

For some reason, she wanted to die.

Time and again, I remember the day one of “the new girls” ran to our apartment crying and looking for my mother. They needed help because their mother had just eaten some rat poison. For some reason, she wanted to die. Days later, I accompanied my mother to visit the neighbor in the psychiatric ward. I didn’t remember seeing her before that day; she looked like death warmed over. We caught a glimpse of others on the ward; they looked the same, pale gray figures, walking in circles. It was scary. I was a just beginning my teens, it was the late 1960s.

Anne

I met Anne when she was in her late thirties. She had been a clerk for IRS when she had her first major “break down”. She had become angry and the police took her away. She was a tall, woman with a large build. Her short blonde hair was starting to turn gray and she glared at me with powder blue eyes. She explained that she had been angry because no one believed her story that the Mayor had raped her when she was a child playing with his daughter. We worked together for several years after that meeting and I learned her perpetual glare was more a sign of fear than defiance. She lived in fear, never knowing when “the cops would show up and haul her away for no reason.”

It was the mid-1980s. She had a long history of psychiatric hospitalizations precipitated by psychotic thinking and consequent irrational, uncontrollable anger; this was common jargon in hospital records back then. Her mother couldn’t confirm her rape story. No one bothered to corroborate it because it was considered a symptom of her illness. She carried the diagnosis of Paranoid Schizophrenia. She told me she had stopped her meds often because she didn’t like how they made her feel; she felt no need to elaborate. Anne had been discharged on an injectable medication to assure compliance. She agreed to move into a group home to increase her independent living skills. It was my job to get her an apartment in the community and provide support to get her out of the revolving door that kept her in and out of hospitals. Needless to say that it all sounded so much better on paper.

In our society, social drinking of alcohol is quite acceptable. Some people say it takes the edge off and they can relax. They feel more social. Unfortunately, we all know folks who are better off when they don’t drink at all. One particular year, things were going well for Anne. She had her own apartment in a nice part of town and had made friends with some neighbors who were not associated with her life as an ex-patient.  Sometimes, they would all go out to listen to a band and have a good time.

Y is for the true You inside

Anne and I would talk about how to stay safe in the city and about the risks associated with mixing alcohol and meds especially an injectable medication. Part of my job, of course, was to point out all she had achieved while on the prescribed medication. I don’t remember the exact conversation or the words I used but I do remember something I said caused her to stand up and stared down at me with her powder blue eyes, holding back her tears “you don’t understand do you? You never will. Those medications take away my YOU. THAT’s who I really am. Who I’ve been from the day I was born. It’s my dreams, who I want to be. It’s MY reality. The one on the medications, that’s not me. The one everyone says is doing soo well”, she added with a touch of sarcasm, “She is a product of the meds.”

Irrational thinking starting to sound rational

She went on to ask questions like who determines what’s irrational. Who determines what right and wrong, what is true or not? And then she started telling me that no one knows that Bill Clinton comes to visit her and loves her. She explained that they had to let Hillary stand next to Bill in her place in the news because she looks better for the TV cameras. A part of me could rationally understand what she was saying about her dreams and her meds.  I can’t begin to explain, however, what it feels like to watch someone lose their grasp on reality, know where it’s heading and feel powerless to stop it. It was her right to drink socially as it was her right to refuse medication and treatment. I’ll try to touch on the laws surrounding this in one of my other posts.
It was months before she ended up in the hospital again. Yes, the police were involved.

It was another few months before she was ready to go home again. Fortunately, we were able to save her apartment and she didn’t have to start at the beginning again, even so, it wasn’t easy to return to that place. Eventually, we found another apartment and she found another group of friends. I don’t know if she ever made peace with her You and her medications, but she certainly gave me an education that I could never repay.

Resources

You can find many more stories, resources to find services or general information for consumers and their families at the following sites:
SAMSHA (Substance Abuse and Mental Health Service Administration) at https://www.samhsa.gov/
NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness (a grassroots organization run by families and consumers) https://www.nami.org/About-NAMI

Please look out for my other posts related to this topic.

Voting- A to Z challenge letter V

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I was struggling with whether or not to use today’s letter “V” to broach the subject of Voting. Elections or anything remotely in the political arena puts me over the edge. It’s definitely an area that I tend to “self-censor” for the benefit of those around me. I noticed a couple of folks did use the word for the AtoZ challenge and so having participated in a rather animated meeting the other night; I decided to jump in and talk about Voting.

Full disclosure – sometimes I want to shake people who show such apathy towards the election process. I can’t wrap my head around it. It’s sad to me that people don’t realize what a privilege it is to live in a country where each citizen is entitled to one vote – to have a say in how the country is run and how funds are dispersed for services. Voting does matter!

Originally it was only white, male landowners who were able to vote on the laws of the land. Through centuries of strife and struggles women, Native Americans, former slaves and other foreign-born were granted the all rights of citizenship, including the right to vote. This privilege was not handed to us but earned with blood, sweat, and tears -literally. If we the people don’t use our power to have a voice, the elected officials can take it upon themselves to make decisions based on what they think is the best interest of their constituents. We have seen referendums and laws shot down or put away because there hasn’t been enough interest from the general public. We have seen others put in place before anyone could appreciate the detrimental impact on the nation.

Don’t get me wrong; I get it. I happen to like this stuff, and yet I too get tired of the rhetoric. I like the research, the arguments, and hearing the candidates’ plans to make things better. I like studying the ins and outs of new proposals. I don’t listen to just one side. To know my choices, I research both viewpoints as much as can. I have voted for a candidate based on past performance regardless of party affiliation. I have become quite active and passionate about some issues, but there are times when even I’ve had enough and want it over. I think in our era of social media and cable networks, all the input can be overwhelming.

What I hear most from people is that it doesn’t matter because “they” are all the same. “They” are just out for their self-interests, out for the money. Despite what we have seen recently, I can tell you “they” are not all the same. Some have sought office with genuine intention to serve rightfully but then lose their vision fighting the uphill battle caught up in the bureaucracy. I have also seen men and women in office fight for their constituents as if they were fighting for their own family members. I do believe we play a role in not letting our representatives get complacent or stagnant. They need our feedback, our letters, our phone calls and our attendance at town meetings to help them have the pulse on what is going on back home.

I can sit here and tell you that one party is better than another but I ask you instead to love your country enough to take a stand for democracy and vote. Be responsible. I can’t stress enough to look beyond the headlines and the talking points in political ads. Knowledge takes away the fear factor. Don’t just “share” trash on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram. Research what you are reposting – especially if it sounds absurd or preposterous –even if it is sympathetic to your beliefs. Let’s not have a repeat of false information spread throughout the web as we’ve had in recent years. There are plenty of sites where you can do a quick fact check. Here are a few to get you started: Fact Checker, Politifact, Snopes, The Sunlight Foundation.  There are others but these have been widely recognized to use neutral language to prevent even an appearance of bias.

In closing, I ask you to check your local voting lists. Make sure you are still on the list, and all your vital information is current. Maybe you were dropped for not voting. If you need to register, you can do it online at https://www.usa.gov/register-to-vote.
Know your candidates and ballot issues. If you can’t make a meeting with candidates, go to their website to get the details of their platform. If they have been in public service before, you can research their voting record at such sites as https://votesmart.org/; https://www.headcount.org/issues-and-candidates/; https://www.usa.gov/voter-research.
There will be plenty of information online and in handouts all over your city as we get closer to November.

Don’t take for granted what our service men and women have fought for around the world. Don’t just wave your flag on Memorial Day or the Fourth of July – make it count in November. We are part of an already great nation but WE THE PEOPLE need to step-it-up. We can do this!

The Red, White and Blue

Twinkle little star. A to Z Challenge

Windows in heaven
Perhaps they are not stars, but rather windows in Heaven where the love of those who went ahead pours through and shines upon us…

 

Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky… or as my fifteen-month granddaughter sings it “kakle, kakle, sahh, ahh, ahh.” Don’t judge.  Her mother grew up in New England where people say “Pahk yah, cahs in Hahvahd Yahd.”  It could be she’s already picking up the accent her mother brought to their new home fifteen hundred miles away. The point is that my granddaughter loves that song. Every time I go to visit, almost as soon as I walk in through the door, she brings her storybook with the big yellow star on the cover. We put the world on “pause”,  she proceeds to climb on my lap and rests her little head on my chest. We cuddle to read it- at least three times before we can move on. I don’t mind. I love it!

I can’t say that she’s made a connection between the star in the book and the immense collection of twinkling diamonds in the night sky outside her window. She rarely stays up past 7:30 anyway. I’m sure when she’s old enough; she will be as mesmerized by the vast infinity of bright lights in the night sky as I am. How can she not?

The first time I was aware of the overwhelming expansion of the stars in the black velvet sky, I was breathless. To understand the extent of my reaction, you have to remember that I am a “city kid.” I grew up at a time when folks were talking about smog, pollution and how to make the air better in the large cities across the country.  I don’t lie when I tell you that I never imagined the night sky could be so much more amazing than a visit to the planetarium. I was about 16. It was during a Winter Youth Retreat in the Pocono Mountains in Pennsylvania, the night was crisp and not a cloud in the sky. It was magical.

I’ve lived just outside city limits since then, and whenever there is a night clear enough to see the sky full of stars, I swear I feel a little tipsy.  It still takes my breath away.  In one of those moments of stretching reality through imagination, I promised my kids that when I’m gone from this world, I’ll try to find a way to still keep looking out for them. Maybe I’ll be looking out from behind one of those stars. In our family, many of our loved ones have left this earth before we were ready to  say “Goodbye.” I love that quote that suggests that stars are windows in the sky for our loved ones to see us. Here Anne Murray’s version of the same idea.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XbZBZC01_sQ

I do believe that our loved ones have the opportunity to become angels or spirit guides as some faith practices believe. A teacher once said it might take some longer than others, but that’s why we pray for the deceased souls and offer services. I find that comforting, maybe that’s why I will always love a starry, starry night. It lights my soul and gives me hope. Blog challengea2z-h-small.

Letter R – Reality and beyond

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There is a fun side to an alternative reality. I like to live on the edge of it sometimes. That’s why I write. I like to look down a narrow dirt trail and wonder how many people walked there before me. How many footsteps and how many years did it take to carve out this path? Who were they? Where were they going? Did they carry hollowed canoes to the river? Was it a shortcut to town? Was it a path to freedom?

Depending on who my companion is, I can elaborate a life story for these imaginary dirt trailpeople – joys and sorrows included. My friend would say, “yes, and…” to complete my narrative. One of my siblings would say, can’t we just walk without you making things up? Peaceful walks in quiet reflection, engrossed in the sights and sounds are one of my favorite things to do. However, there is a time for everything under the sun, and sometimes, I want to go beyond what we can see with our eyes. As a side note, remember it’s important to choose travel companions wisely to enjoy the moment fully.

When my sisters were young, and the mood was right, they could spend hours “talking” to our mutt, Victor.  The girls at about five or six years old, obviously knew it was me talking for Victor.  I never pretended to be a  skilled ventriloquist to throw my voice in his direction. I was almost ten years older, and yet, we managed to entertain each other regardless as Victor sat between us loving all the attention.

Victor was some kind of a shepherd mix and quite a storyteller. He would tell them how his day went – who stopped by the house, what he saw each time he went out to “do his business,” what extra treats he got, what he thought Mom was cooking for dinner that made his mouth water. Sometimes he would complain that Fred, the stray cat, had come into through the kitchen window to brag about his adventures in the alley and the mouse that got away.

Sometimes I would live vicariously through Fred, the stray. I learned to love cats with Fred, despite my dad’s superstitious apprehensions. Fred was big for a cat, furry, gray and quite independent. He would roam the back alleys of our city freely with a swagger and without fear. I would wonder how far his cat feet could carry him. Where did he go and what did he see? Did he stop at other homes? What did other families name him? Most days he would only stop in for a short while to eat. In the winter or hot summer days, he would stay longer to keep warm or cool off. Those days before he took off again, he would rub against us one by one as if to say “thanks”. One time he came back with cuts and scrapes. We tried to keep him in the house and off the streets, but as soon as he was strong enough, he was wailing at the window to be let out. At times he was gone for days, and one day he never returned. Unfortunately, there was never a shortage of alley cats in our neighborhood, and soon Fred was replaced by Snagglepus and then Mister Magoo.

Not too long ago I was at one of those Brews, Jazz and Funk Festivals at the park by the river. As the tribute band played well-known favorites, a small, lone figure of a dancer rocked and rolled her way to the front of the stage. With her ripped shorts, bracelets, and tattoos up her arm, she personified the saying “dance as if no one was watching.” She was easily in her 70s, but she had obviously transcended time, and everything else around her didn’t exist. She was definitely in the zone and inspired others to step out. Soon she was surrounded by people of all ages letting the music take control. When the music stopped, she was visibly exhausted, but I caught that big smile that slipped across her face. She had a cosmic air about her. Who was she? How many concerts in the park had she attended? Was she a musician herself? In my mind her name was Carole, and she sang and played with a band a lifetime ago.

I like to stretch my mind beyond what my eyes can see. It’s great for problem-solving and relationship building because it helps me to have an open mind to see alternative beginnings and endings. As I continue to blog, I’ll share some of the stories of my alternate reality. I hope you’ll enjoy them as much as I have making them up and perhaps together we’ll learn a few things about us along the way.

R is for Reality, the alternative kind.

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A quick review of the first month

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A to Z challenge letter Q.  A QUICK review.  It’s been a month since I started blogging again. My blog and its appearance is still a work in progress though. I like the theme I’m using but need some time to play with widgets and plug-ins. I also need to take more pictures that I can incorporate into my posts. Most importantly is that I’ve managed to write a post almost daily. I haven’t always been in sync my theme or with the corresponding letters of my A to Z challenge, but my personal goal in participating was for me to get in the habit of sitting to write something every day. I think I’m doing OK with that.

I’ve also learned that daily posting may not work for me in the long run. In my daily readings, I found the term “binge writing” which sounds more like me. I generally like to write when something inspires me, but then I also like to research to make sure any references are accurate. The problem is I tend to get bogged down with the research and editing. That’s just my personality style. I need to remember this is a blog, not an epic historical novel.

I’ve enjoyed reading other blogs. I’ve learned a lot by looking at style and content. I found a local “Meet-up Group” of bloggers and partners such as web developers. This group has been very helpful because I’m more of a creative writer and I don’t know or understand all the ins-and-outs behind the screen. Just by listening in on different discussions, I’ve picked up tips for practical things I hadn’t even thought about. They mentioned things like not using all caps in your title so that it’s easier for people to find your post and not starting your title or blog entry with the same phrase each time. I’ve tried to make changes based on the group’s recommendations. It’s too soon to gauge the effects but the group also keeps me focused and motivated to continue to write.

I’ve had my five minutes of fame due to an unexpected opportunity to interview with a reporter from a local NBC TV affiliate. I spoke briefly about why I blog, and she asked why I didn’t just keep a private journal for myself. “Why do you want to go public?” I explained that I like to write but I need the feedback and I like being part of a community of like-minded people. Now I need to work on letting my thoughts flow and getting my “self-censored” blog out to the general public.

I’m interested to hear why you blog. Why did you want to go public with your personal thoughts?

 

 

 

AtoZ Challenge – JOURNEY

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“Life is about the JOURNEY, not the destination.” I consider this quote one of my favorite expressions which continually renews the way I look at life. Whenever I’m with someone who is planning a wedding or a great vacation, I always remind them to enjoy everything leading up to the big event because it’s all over so quickly. People today spend countless hours and dollars planning for that special day, but then they are too busy or tired to enjoy it. I love to look at old photos of fun times, but I also warn people about trying to capture too many moments with the phone, you may be missing the opportunity for adventure or special moments that you can’t rewind. Laugh about the stressors and mishaps for someday they’ll be great stories to tell the grandchildren or reminders for yourself before you put your head down to sleep.

I often remember people that I’ve met on my JOURNEY and I acknowledge that whether it was for a moment or a season, a blessing or a lesson; those who’ve crossed my path have touched my life and added a bit to who I am today. One friend was especially attentive to enjoy the JOURNEY and life’s offerings. “Why stress about where it’s going tomorrow if it’s wonderful now?” Over the years, I’ve come to understand the importance and adapt that philosophy to my life and my JOURNEY.

To give proper credit, I went searching for the author of the quote that has become such a part of our everyday language (and of course memes). I found that Ralph Waldo Emerson is often credited with “Life is a journey, not a destination” but in fact, several ministers and Bible teachers of the time used similar language in journals or teachings. https://quoteinvestigator.com/2012/08/31/life-journey/

It makes sense to me that such a quote would also have religious connotations. I’m glad some preachers and teachers have tried to redirect their communities. If you’ve read my previous blog posts, you may have guessed that my JOURNEY has been via a road with twists and turns. For part of my life, I was teaching that the most important thing in life was the final destination on the other side of those Pearly Gates. For that, I’ve apologized.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped to take a break and look around me. I noticed that some people were too focused getting to the Promised Land, the mansions, walking on the Streets of Gold that they lost the purpose of their JOURNEY and forgot the words of Jesus Christ. “For I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat. I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me in. I needed clothes, and you clothed me. I was sick, and you looked after me. I was in prison, and you came to visit me.” … ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’Matthew 25:35-40.

After a while, I took up my satchel and changed direction –  same JOURNEY, different route. Rather than waiting to see all the wonders “over yonder,” I’ve decided to enjoy JOURNEY, and make the most of the blessings in my simple life.

A to Z challenge – INTENTIONS

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I started blogging again past the ides of March 2018. Inspired by a page I was following, a few days later I signed up for the A to Z challenge for April 2018. I was ready to go. As things go, I started five days after everyone else. No big deal. I’ll post twice a day until I catch up. Well, that didn’t work out and alas all my good INTENTIONS have left me feeling frustrated but not quite discouraged.

I’m not going to lie; I was ready to say OK, maybe this daily blogging is not for me. I put too much pressure on myself, and it stops being fun. I want to be creative, thoughtful and if a post calls for it, I want to be accurate. It feels lifeless, mechanical and automated. I went back to my Reader to find a wonderful post I read a few days ago in which I saw myself. The writer described her process, and I recognized it was how I’ve been operating all these years – Binge Writing. Something or someone will trigger my imagination which makes the sparks fly, and I’m out the gate writing every chance I get. I’ll make notes any time of day on my phone, on the back of an envelope, store receipt, etc. and stitch it all together to make a story. I’ll go at it for a couple of weeks, maybe a couple of months but then I seem to hibernate. I am keeping this blog entry for future INSPIRATION.  https://brevity.wordpress.com/2018/03/26/staying-out-of-the-headlights-on-finding-my-own-writing-process/

I was about to try something different and throw in the towel for the A to Z challenge when I remembered that this blog was about ME. I took on the challenge with the honest INTENTIONS to get myself back in the habit of writing- period. Yes, was hoping that after 26 days, a natural part of my daily routine will be for me to get on my computer to write – after I walk the dog and have my tea with mini protein cakes. My apologies to the bloggers in the community that have diligently kept up with the challenge as described in the instructions but I’ve decided then that I will take a detour and resume my challenge for the rest of the month with the ninth letter corresponding to April 9th – I.

Onward to J!

Five Minutes of Fame

Every two weeks in the city where I live, a small group of bloggers and affiliates meets at a locally owned coffee shop to chat, troubleshoot, or share tips and ideas. I had been blogging somewhat consistently for a couple of weeks and wanting to keep the momentum; I finally made it to a meeting. As luck would have it, a journalist from a local news outlet had just surprised the group facilitator to do a story about Blogging and was asking to interview a few group members – today.

In one serendipitous moment, I found myself as one of only two bloggers to show up for the meeting today. I agreed to interview as an honest to goodness “blogger” with about ten posts under my belt and a page in the middle of reconstruction. The interview went well considering it was spur-of-the-moment. I was surprised at how relaxed I felt as I enthusiastically spoke of my “Self Censored” page for my five minutes of fame.

I watched the segment air this morning which caused cobwebs and dust to blow around those corners of my mind. I remember watching myself after another interview in what seems to be another lifetime. My dark brown hair was blown dry in a smooth shoulder length bob with professional, understated makeup. The dark gray skirt suit that I wore to important meetings was freshly out of the cleaners, and I wore a royal blue sweater because everyone still tells me that is definitely my color. I was to talk about a new independent living housing program for our clients and a family group which would help everyone with the transition. I had practiced and had index cards, and yet I froze. If not for my co-worker’s help, I would have been completely lost – what a disaster I thought. Whose idea was this anyway?

Today as I watched myself, I chuckled. I looked so comfortable in my own skin. My hair is short, gray and wild. My clothes were not pressed or laid out from the day before; plus my voice was still hoarse from a recent bout of laryngitis. I wasn’t prepared for the TV that day; I was flying by the seat of my pants, and yet I wasn’t afraid.

All is not perfect. My GPS doesn’t work very well, and the road is still crooked with plenty of bumps and ridges. I am content in my journey though, and I’m looking forward to seeing what’s around the bend. I think my younger self would be proud and relieved.

How would you answer the age-old question? What would you say to your younger self?

A to Z challenge – About

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Today, as I’ve started to feel human after a terrible allergic episode, I’m trying to engage in the A to Z Challenge that I signed up for last month. I’ve decided to keep it simple and start the Challenge with ABOUT and perhaps try to explain why I’ve decided to write a blog that seems to be about me.

I had been writing a blog with a running title of “Self-Censored/ A blog about me. Verbal snapshots of a simple life”. The other day I was discussing my blog with someone who asked, “why would you write a blog about yourself, it’s not like you are someone famous … You need to write about something that your reader will value and come back for …”. These were good points, so I took the information and filed it in my brain under “THINGS TO PONDER.”  Here I am, trying to ponder as I participate in the A to Z challenge.  Please join me.

Over the past few months, I finally had the chance to go through boxes of old photos and family memorabilia – which is probably why my allergies are out of control. The treasures I found prompted me to contact some people and take an opportunity to sit and talk. Some of these folks I’ve known all my life, some all of theirs, and others for at least a couple of decades. A constant theme in these conversations has been what was going on beyond the photo, beyond the eye of the camera.

It was in those memories that we learned things about each other that were hidden in plain sight. For example – who knew that you sang and played guitar on stage at a coffee house in New York City when you were in college? Or that you had looked up who Ty Cobb was and were proud to be part of the team, wear your uniform and play at those little league games that your Dad dragged you to each weekend. Who knew you didn’t really get lost on the subway that day when everyone was so worried – instead, you had a crazy adventure with friends. Who knew you stepped up to take care of the family dog and neighborhood strays when your older sister went off to college? Who knew that at age ten you already knew how to make something beautiful out of repurposed materials? Who knew that you always wanted to play the clarinet but when it was your turn to chose, the trumpet was the only instrument left, and yet you thoroughly enjoyed jammin’ with the band? Who knew all these things, these little sparks, you would carry in your heart alone until the time was right to shine?

I want my reader to feel a smile creep across the face as he or she joins me in the memory. Do you remember walking out of the comfort zone and then feeling ecstatic and relieved all at once. What a feeling to know you survived – you did it, and you enjoyed it! What if you haven’t yet? Well, why not. Tomorrow is another opportunity. What if you don’t have an experience readily available in your toolbox? I’m hoping you can borrow the energy from one of the stories I share.

I worked in a state-run system of human services for many years where I provided rehabilitative and supportive counseling for countless clients. Some didn’t have much of an opportunity to make happy memories, but somehow they knew there was something better, and that’s what kept them going. Some folks, knowing that they had nothing more to lose, took more chances. The strength and resilience I saw in these people were a blessing to my own life.

Those are the kind of stories I want to share – true stories of simple everyday people, putting one foot in front of the other walking the path before us. Few of us can skate through life on Easy Street. Most of us will follow the scenic route with all its twists and turns. Let’s take plenty “snapshots”.