FFS, what does one’s sexuality have to do with being a murderer? The media astounds me! I guess Aussies still have a lot to learn if this type of reporting is indicative of the state of society.

Current Mood: WTF!?!

In no way do I understand blatant overt racism. Why would a person choose to put a voice to the racism that festers inside of them? Does the person not know that it makes them sound completely ignorant?

This weekend one of my photographic assignments for my newspaper is to take a picture of a dog in the local pound. Since I’ve never visited the pound before and I don’t know if there are, in fact, any dogs caged up in the pound this weekend, I decided to contact the shire council’s local laws officer to see if I could firstly access the pound, and secondly, if I needed to take one of my own dogs to the “photo shoot” as a model.

By visiting the local shire council’s local laws officer, I seem to have stepped onto a fire ant nest. Something news worthy is happening. The council is taking someone to court over … something. The local laws officer told me that she has been contacted by the newspaper several times this week and is sick of it. She told me that the newspaper better have permission from the shire council to photograph the pound.

Now all that is neither here nor there. I don’t know what the news worthy “something” is and from this morning’s encounter, I think it is far better to stay out of whatever is happening. However, what the local laws officer said next is what I find staggering. She made a point of telling me that the “offenders” in this news worthy event were … da da daaah … aboriginals (her word; her emphasis; not mine).

WTF!?!

What possible difference does the ethnicity of these so-called offenders make? Why even bring up the issue of ethnicity at all? If the so-called offenders were a family of non-Indigenous Australians, would the local laws officer have made a point of telling me that the people in question were “white” or “migloos“? I think not!

Again, why do people think it is okay to say blatantly racist things? There is enough covert or “hidden” racism to deal with in this country, let along having to deal with overt racism too. Surely if a person holds some racist beliefs, and I believe a lot of people do purely because it is hard to escape the indoctrination when you are growing up and developing your own mindset, then they are loathe to lend a voice to it. They realise that it is an erroneous belief or idea that is far too ingrained in modern society and they work very hard to quash it as the garbage thought that it is. Surely!

Okay, I really need to blog in order to move that huntsman spider image down the page a little. It’s freaking me out every time I open my web browser.

Well, tonight I have to wonder a little if I am back at the beginning of this whole crazy double D’s show. I swear, I must be experiencing a sort of funky deja vu or something similar. It would appear that I am back within the public mental health system. (Shit! I’m screwed!)

Back in early 2004, when everything came to a head, I was referred to the public mental health office over in the next town. It didn’t go well. After appointments being cancelled on me and phone calls never returned, I got the distinct impression that the public mental health system was far too busy to bother with people like myself … you know, just the garden variety depressed person. In fact, that impression was made fact when a friend of mine got a job in the local welfare sector and was told by the public mental health office that they indeed did not have the time to deal with people with depression. They were too busy dealing with people with “real” mental illnesses. At the time, it took a third overdose in as many months for the local doctor to suddenly realise, “Shit, this woman’s husband has private health insurance. I can refer her to a private psychiatrist.” And that, my dear Melissa (don’t ask … I’ve been keeping her quiet but I think she is a reality now … about time I had someone else pop to the fore and deal with some of this shit for me), is when this whole friggin’ journey really began.

Anyway, this morning I fronted up to the hospital to get my leg redressed. Can I just interrupt my own thoughts for a second and say that I am completely over this whole dressings thing. When is my leg going to heal enough that I can tell the hospital to go fuck themselves and not have to deal with them again? Once again, I had a different nurse see me. Once again, I was told that my current psychiatrist must be doing nothing for me since I am still self harming. Once again, I was told that if I continued to self harm then the hospital would have to look at whether they were going to continue to treat me or not. Fucking hell!

However this time, as the nurse said that, I told her to “be careful”. I told her about what happened the other day and how I thought that particular nurse was entirely unprofessional. To her credit, the nurse heeded my wishes/warning. Instead, she was adamant about referring me to the public mental health office over in the next town. I tried to tell her that my psychiatrist had referred me to a psychologist. I tried to tell her what happened back in 2004. It either didn’t sink in or … well … fucked if I know. It felt like I was being told to accept the referral or the hospital would withdraw from treating me.

The end result of this morning’s visit to the hospital is that the referral to mental health over in the next town has been made. Apparently I will get a call from them or someone at the hospital to tell me when my upcoming appointment is.

So, what do I do? I guess I will attend the appointment but I will be sure to bring up what happened last time. The last thing I need is to be dropped like a hot potato again. I feel like the carrot has been dangled in front of me so many times (GP’s, public mental health, private psychiatrists and psychologists) but nothing has ever fucking come from anything. Just how long is a person supposed to keep on trying before she is finally allowed to go, “Fuck it! I tried and tried but nothing has helped and that is the end of it for me.”

I really don’t know!

During my appointment with my psychiatrist this afternoon, I told him about what happened at the hospital. He stated that he saw parallels between what had happened there and what happens during therapy with him. (Huh!?!) He said that while I am really compliant with taking medications, going into hospital when the need arises and attending therapy sessions, I am unable to communicate what is happening in my inner life. (Umm, isn’t that his job … to help me to be able to do that??) He said that my cynicism and nialisim (how the hell do you spell that word?) impedes anybody trying to help me.

For goodness sake! I am sure I am not the hardest nut that these so-called professionals have had to crack!

A denial,
I’m worse at what I do best and for this gift I feel blessed,
I found it hard, it was hard to find,
Oh well, whatever, nevermind …

Despite my last post, up until now I have escaped the overt prejudice and stigma that can be applied to people who self harm. I guess I have been very lucky. Today, however, everything changed.

I’ve been encouraged by a member of the local health council to write a complaint about today’s experience (it’s not what you know, it’s who you know, right), so this post is all about getting my head straight about what happened and detailing the specifics. So, without further ado, here’s my account of what happened.

This afternoon I attended my local hospital’s dressings clinic to get the dressings on my leg and arm changed. The nurse who saw me, I have never been seen by before. I guess she could have been an agency nurse from out of town who was filling in some previously vacant shifts.

Upon seeing me into one of the treatment rooms and collecting my chart, the nurse asked how the wounds had occurred. I asked if I really had to say and she said, “No.” From there, however, she indicated something along the lines of she was uncomfortable with self harm. She then told me about women in Saudi Arabia (I got the impression that she may have been in the country in the past but I can’t remember her specifically saying that) and how she thought they were treated as chattel and were not allowed to see a doctor if their husbands said they couldn’t and how she couldn’t understand how women that were not treated like Saudi Arabian women would choose to do “this” to themselves. I guess she must have known that my wounds where from self harm after all.

During this barrage of information, the nurse was trying to soak off with saline the dressings that had adhered themselves to my leg. The dressings where stuck fast however, so she suggested I have a shower at the hospital. By that time I could feel myself fairly close to breaking down into a tearful mess so, wanting to escape the situation, I muttered something about going home for a shower. She indicated that I couldn’t leave the hospital with my leg the way it was and once again suggested that I have a shower at the hospital. Being the door mat that I am, I gave in and headed for the shower.

After spending ages in the shower trying to release the dressings from the wound, I re-entered the treatment room. Unfortunately the nurse seemed fixated on the self harm issue and asked me if I would engage in it again. What was I to say? Chances are that I will and I told her as much. She indicated that if that were the case, then the hospital’s staff would have to look at whether I should be continued being treated.

At some stage during this wonderful experience, the nurse also asked me if I was getting any form of help. I stated that I had been seeing a psychiatrist for two years. She asked me if I considered getting help somewhere else as it appeared that seeing the psychiatrist wasn’t doing any good.

When the nurse started to dress my leg in the same material that had stuck so fast onto my wound, I asked her what that particular material did. She stated that it soaked up the gunk that accumulated in the wound. She made it clear to me, however, that each container of the material cost $50.00. Given what she had already said to me, I had to wonder if she thought I was worth wasting $50.00 on and if she told me the cost of the material to hammer home some point about self harm to me.

During all this, a woman, who appeared to be a doctor (she was not wearing a uniform and had a stethoscope hanging around her neck) entered the room. The woman asked the nurse if this was the burn. I felt like saying, “Actually, no. My name is Kym and this thing on my leg is the burn.” I didn’t have time to voice my thought though. The nurse told the woman that I wasn’t the burn and was just a person who they dealt with on a regular basis. Nice!

Well, that is all that I can remember about this afternoon’s visit to the hospital. The experience left me upset and angry. I am very thankful that I had a friend I could go to after the experience and debrief to. Without him listening to my account of what happened, I am sure I would still be a mess tonight.

I will leave it at this tonight. It is getting too late to start writing a formal letter about what happened. I guess I get the joy of doing that tomorrow.

Sometimes the world makes me angry. Below is a screen shot of the results from today’s ninemsn poll, “Is it possible for career women to be devoted mothers?” It’s wonderful that over 22 000 people believe that it is possible for mothers who engage in paid work to be devoted to their children but what in hell is wrong with the 20 000 or so people who believe that it is not possible for mothers who engage in paid work to be devoted to their children. What rot! Did the feminist movement get us anywhere?

Last time I checked we are living in the 21st century. Mothers (and fathers for that matter) have choices. Finances permitting, we can choose to stay home and care for our children. We can also choose to work outside of the home and care for our children. A stay at home mum is not more likely to be more devoted to their children than a mum who chooses to work outside of the home. To believe otherwise puts back the feminist movement 40 years and damages the status of women in this society.

Come on Australians! Get a grip! Are we really a bunch of morons that believe that women’s place is barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen?

Stupid poll results

 

Are we still existing in the dark ages when it comes to how certain sectors of society view women? Given what I read in yesterday’s local newspaper I think we just might be.

In yesterday’s local newspaper there appeared an article about an incident involving a young woman, her defacto and their baby. Apparently, after a night out at a local social event, the couple had returned home. At some point after returning home, the defacto became verbally abusive towards the young woman and indicated that he was going to leave with the baby. The young woman intervened by giving the baby to a third party. The defacto then threatened to kill himself, stole the family’s car and instructed the young woman to come with him at what appeared to be gunpoint.

Now there is no doubt in my mind that the incident would have been an extremely frightening situation for the people involved (can anyone say PTSD *shudders*) but what annoys me about the article is what the local CIB police officer is quoted as saying about the incident. According to the newspaper he described the events as a:

“domestic violence incident that escalated beyond what it should have”

Correct me if I am wrong (Actually, don’t bother. I believe I am right on this one.) but doesn’t each and every domestic violence incident “escalate above what it should have”. In fact, there are no “should haves” or “escalations” to be had at all. Each and every incident shouldn’t have happened in the first place. End of story!

When I read the above quote, it makes me think that the police officer who reportedly said it believes that there are different levels of violence towards women and that what he considers to be a lower level of violence is acceptable when compared to what he considers to be a higher level of violence. That scares me. Did our legal system take any note of the women’s movement? Do our judges still believe that a woman deserves to be raped because she was dressed “provocatively” at the time of the rape? Gawd, it makes my mind boggle.

I’m feeling tired and irritable. What a shock! So, in order to release some of my angst, here is a list of the top ten things that piss me off (in no particular order).

1. Feeling exhausted all the time. It is literally a huge downer.
2. Breeders (as opposed to “real” parents) who think that just because they have access to a functioning uterus and sperm they have the right to give birth to and raise children. If you don’t have the capacity to think critically about your actions and how they impact on your child you shouldn’t breed. Full stop!
3. The mice that have infested my home. I’m sitting here watching the little fuckers run underneath my front door and disappear around the corner into my kitchen. To top that off I think I just heard one of them squeak. Fuuuccckkk! It’s disgusting!
4. Companies which offer “craptacular” customer service. If you cannot deliver your service or product within a certain time frame do not advertise that you can. It’s an extremely bad business practice and, well, you deserve to be left a scathing review of your services somewhere where potential customers can read it.
5. People who do not listen properly. How fucking hard is it to listen to something someone says and to act upon the information appropriately? Stop making excuses! Stop ignoring the issues! Geez!
6. People who conduct conversations with their friends, neighbours, family members or even the slightest of acquaintances in the middle of supermarket aisles thus making it extremely difficult for anyone to get past them. Fuck people! Show some respect for the other shoppers out there.
7. People who park beside and use the last available petrol bowser in the row instead of driving that extra two metres forward to the first available petrol bowser. I mean, what the fuck is with that? Are these people imbeciles? 
8. People who are racist, sexist or any of the “ists” that you can think of. Wake up people! Yes, there are differences among people but these should be celebrated not scorned.
9. People who are cruel to animals. (Now you know why there are so many fucking mice running around my house … grrr … oh, and huntsman spiders that wander inside don’t count *smiles*).
10. Bad internet connections. Why pay over $100 per month for a super speedy connection when it fucks up continuously.

There, that actually worked. I feel better now.