JOCK SHORTS
JOCK SHORTS
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OPINE is NOT a poem to a Douglass Fir.
SKIDD MARX
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SKIDD MARX
THE ARCHIVES OF WISDOM
THE ARCHIVES OF WISDOM
OPINE is not a poem to a Douglass Fir.
OF MICE AND MENTAL HEALTH
Over the course of the last few months, I have been re-examining my relationship between my mental health and my environment. The differences were so striking that I felt it necessary to put pen to paper (or in this case finger to keyboard) to try and make sense of it all.
When I was in Port Charlotte, I rarely ever left my apartment because I had no transportation and was not near any real shopping venues. The closest thing to me was a Walgreen's drugstore and I did 90% of my grocery shopping there. The apartment itself was depressing to the point it made me very lethargic and sent me very deeply into depression. I had accepted my fate to live out the rest of my days this way. Virtually cut off from human contact with the exception of my friends on Facebook. There's very little solace in connecting with people who are disembodied through the computer, and scattered about the United States.
After Thanksgiving of 2011, where I reconnected with family after many many years, I decided to go as maybe greater if I move to Gainesville Florida. Thanks to the college atmosphere of the town, there is great transportation in the form of buses and shuttles. Superb doctors at the Shands hospital. And a FACT team that leaves the other team in Port Charlotte in the dust when it comes to their professionalism and ability to open my recovery.
All in all, I feel better about myself and about my future days. And a lot of credit goes to my family as well. They have welcomed to be back with open arms and open minds. Although I don't know if they comprehend what my mental illness entails, it seems they're willing to tolerate the ups and downs they will eventually be subjected to a while spending time with me.
And in the counting of one's blessings department, I recognize the fact that some families of mentally ill people aren't so inviting. Families tend to shy away or even shun members that have mental illnesses. I can tell you horror stories of my fellow patients who have spent virtually all of their holidays alone, hungry, and starved for love.
Therefore this holiday season of 2012 will be more poignant for me and will serve to use as a great foundation for my future relationship with this proud clan.
Who knows? Maybe this year when I say merry Christmas, it will be so.
Stay tuned.
--- Skidd Marx
Over the course of the last few months, I have been re-examining my relationship between my mental health and my environment. The differences were so striking that I felt it necessary to put pen to paper (or in this case finger to keyboard) to try and make sense of it all.
When I was in Port Charlotte, I rarely ever left my apartment because I had no transportation and was not near any real shopping venues. The closest thing to me was a Walgreen's drugstore and I did 90% of my grocery shopping there. The apartment itself was depressing to the point it made me very lethargic and sent me very deeply into depression. I had accepted my fate to live out the rest of my days this way. Virtually cut off from human contact with the exception of my friends on Facebook. There's very little solace in connecting with people who are disembodied through the computer, and scattered about the United States.
After Thanksgiving of 2011, where I reconnected with family after many many years, I decided to go as maybe greater if I move to Gainesville Florida. Thanks to the college atmosphere of the town, there is great transportation in the form of buses and shuttles. Superb doctors at the Shands hospital. And a FACT team that leaves the other team in Port Charlotte in the dust when it comes to their professionalism and ability to open my recovery.
All in all, I feel better about myself and about my future days. And a lot of credit goes to my family as well. They have welcomed to be back with open arms and open minds. Although I don't know if they comprehend what my mental illness entails, it seems they're willing to tolerate the ups and downs they will eventually be subjected to a while spending time with me.
And in the counting of one's blessings department, I recognize the fact that some families of mentally ill people aren't so inviting. Families tend to shy away or even shun members that have mental illnesses. I can tell you horror stories of my fellow patients who have spent virtually all of their holidays alone, hungry, and starved for love.
Therefore this holiday season of 2012 will be more poignant for me and will serve to use as a great foundation for my future relationship with this proud clan.
Who knows? Maybe this year when I say merry Christmas, it will be so.
Stay tuned.
--- Skidd Marx
OF MICE AND MENTAL HEALTH
Over the course of the last few months, I have been re-examining my relationship between my mental health and my environment. The differences were so striking that I felt it necessary to put pen to paper (or in this case finger to keyboard) to try and make sense of it all.
When I was in Port Charlotte, I rarely ever left my apartment because I had no transportation and was not near any real shopping venues. The closest thing to me was a Walgreen's drugstore and I did 90% of my grocery shopping there. The apartment itself was depressing to the point it made me very lethargic and sent me very deeply into depression. I had accepted my fate to live out the rest of my days this way. Virtually cut off from human contact with the exception of my friends on Facebook. There's very little solace in connecting with people who are disembodied through the computer, and scattered about the United States.
After Thanksgiving of 2011, where I reconnected with family after many many years, I decided to go as maybe greater if I move to Gainesville Florida. Thanks to the college atmosphere of the town, there is great transportation in the form of buses and shuttles. Superb doctors at the Shands hospital. And a FACT team that leaves the other team in Port Charlotte in the dust when it comes to their professionalism and ability to open my recovery.
All in all, I feel better about myself and about my future days. And a lot of credit goes to my family as well. They have welcomed to be back with open arms and open minds. Although I don't know if they comprehend what my mental illness entails, it seems they're willing to tolerate the ups and downs they will eventually be subjected to a while spending time with me.
And in the counting of one's blessings department, I recognize the fact that some families of mentally ill people aren't so inviting. Families tend to shy away or even shun members that have mental illnesses. I can tell you horror stories of my fellow patients who have spent virtually all of their holidays alone, hungry, and starved for love.
Therefore this holiday season of 2012 will be more poignant for me and will serve to use as a great foundation for my future relationship with this proud clan.
Who knows? Maybe this year when I say merry Christmas, it will be so.
Stay tuned.
--- Skidd Marx
Over the course of the last few months, I have been re-examining my relationship between my mental health and my environment. The differences were so striking that I felt it necessary to put pen to paper (or in this case finger to keyboard) to try and make sense of it all.
When I was in Port Charlotte, I rarely ever left my apartment because I had no transportation and was not near any real shopping venues. The closest thing to me was a Walgreen's drugstore and I did 90% of my grocery shopping there. The apartment itself was depressing to the point it made me very lethargic and sent me very deeply into depression. I had accepted my fate to live out the rest of my days this way. Virtually cut off from human contact with the exception of my friends on Facebook. There's very little solace in connecting with people who are disembodied through the computer, and scattered about the United States.
After Thanksgiving of 2011, where I reconnected with family after many many years, I decided to go as maybe greater if I move to Gainesville Florida. Thanks to the college atmosphere of the town, there is great transportation in the form of buses and shuttles. Superb doctors at the Shands hospital. And a FACT team that leaves the other team in Port Charlotte in the dust when it comes to their professionalism and ability to open my recovery.
All in all, I feel better about myself and about my future days. And a lot of credit goes to my family as well. They have welcomed to be back with open arms and open minds. Although I don't know if they comprehend what my mental illness entails, it seems they're willing to tolerate the ups and downs they will eventually be subjected to a while spending time with me.
And in the counting of one's blessings department, I recognize the fact that some families of mentally ill people aren't so inviting. Families tend to shy away or even shun members that have mental illnesses. I can tell you horror stories of my fellow patients who have spent virtually all of their holidays alone, hungry, and starved for love.
Therefore this holiday season of 2012 will be more poignant for me and will serve to use as a great foundation for my future relationship with this proud clan.
Who knows? Maybe this year when I say merry Christmas, it will be so.
Stay tuned.
--- Skidd Marx