Inquiry into Addiction Services…

DESPITE ALL THE HATERS sending emails like “cannot you believe you moan about addiction services, they work well and moaners like you should be shot” there are many many more people like me out there. Even more so disillusioned.

Work done for “Perspectives” (research and graphic display) with a very highly respected and qualified researcher for Otago Univershity convinced me that the problem was even worse than I first diagnosed. Recovery Perspectives Titlerecovery perspectives excer

You see – rightly or wrongly people feel they should not speak out. Some fear the licenses for driving will be revoked (in truth, this has been known to happen for crazy reasons…), others don’t even enrol to vote for reasons known best to themselves.

But all share something in common – the services and help they require could be improved by them coming forward, voting and putting their names behind a change.

Here is a letter I received tonight from an extremely well-respected lady, whom used to work in an office next to my girlfriend who worked in the mental health sector and first encouraged me to write the worlds shittiest blog.

Please read. Please support. Please have your say.

—————————————————-

You’re receiving this message from former Mental Health Commissioner Mary O’Hagan because you have taken action in the past on campaigns for a better mental health system.
unnamed.jpg

Dear Mr Fiendipoobum,

In today’s Budget announcement Finance Minister Grant Robertson has promised future funding for mental health will depend on the outcome of the Government Inquiry into Mental Health and Addiction.

All of us want to know there will be support available for us, our loved ones, friends and whānau, when we experience mental distress or addiction.

The Government Inquiry gives us the biggest opportunity I’ve seen in my lifetime to change the system so that no-one is turned away and everyone get more than medication.

SIGN FOR A SYSTEM CHANGE

A lot of people can’t get help when they need it. Every week I hear stories of desperate people who can’t get access into services, with mental health care facilities at capacity and not enough staff.

I used mental health services for several years as a young woman. At the time, all I got was a ‘pills and pillows’ service and grim predictions from professionals for my future.

Their predictions were all wrong; for the last 30 years I have advocated for change in mental health at the local, national and international levels, including as a commissioner at the Mental Health Commission which had oversight of the mental health system.

The People’s Mental Health Report showed the system is not working. People get too many pills, too much coercion, and not enough support to get work, housing, talking therapies, community connections, self-belief and hope for their future.

There is a groundswell of support for fundamental change in mental health and addiction and the government has said of the Inquiry that ‘nothing is off the table’.

That’s why I’ve partnered with ActionStation in asking for a system change in the way mental health is treated and talked about in New Zealand.

Sign the open submission to the Mental Health Inquiry: Open access to a full menu of services

We at PeerZone are a social enterprise run by and for people with mental distress where we develop and deliver resources and supports for our peers who have mental distress. We believe with social justice and the right kind of support all people with experience of mental distress can lead great lives.

The PeerZone team and many of our supporters have created The Wellbeing Manifesto for Aotearoa New Zealand; it starts where the People’s Mental Health Report left off, with wide-ranging and long-term recommendations, based on our lived experience. It is our submission to the Government Inquiry and I invite you to sign and support it too.

The Submission calls for all the sectors that have responsibility for wellbeing, distress and addiction — such as health, social development, justice, corrections and education — to jointly fund a full menu of services at the local level, in partnership with people affected by distress and addiction.

This menu includes:

→ personal and whānau support;
→ income, work and housing support;
→ talking therapies and treatments;
→ spiritual healing;
→ and crisis responses.

The services need to be co-delivered and working together as much as possible, in such settings as primary health facilities, marae, community centres and large workplaces.

At the same time, the workforce needs to undergo a transformation so that cultural workers and peer workers (those who have lived experience of distress and addiction) work alongside the traditional workforce with equal status and in equal numbers.

Your voice will add power to our submission for these ambitious goals. Will you sign onto our Submission to the Inquiry?

ADD YOUR NAME

Thanks for all you do,

Mary O’Hagan 
Director of PeerZone

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Naloxone hydrochloride gets a drug charge in NZ

Stupidly, given the position I was in years ago of using and living with heavy opiate fiends, NZ police found a vial of narcaine or narcan and charged me with possession of a controlled drug.

Given the fact others had over dosed in the house, including me, this drug possession could have saved lives.

In fact, a few did die of over dose. The police then took great delight in locking people up under the guise of manslaughter convictions.

Meanwhile, my life saving collection of drugs was destroyed and I was charged under misuse of drugs act.

Actively narcissistic behavior by New Zealand Police and the Prosecution service, which happens to be police in N.Z.

Naloxone info found on my tiny smartish phone…

wiki explanation of narcan

Time update on surgeon general advisory in U.S.A

Would a life have been saved if we had access to those drugs? Possibly.

Would harm have come from us having access to those drugs? Most definitely not.

Final score…

Police 3 charges, 2 convictions

Junkies -1

Innovation – Stolen, without consent…

Here is a little piece by a Wellington thinker and resident caring soul by the name of Mike Sukolski. You can tell him that I have ripped him off here… Thanks to old mate “wanda” for pointing this one out…

Image may contain: hat
Image resultStolen from Mike Sukolski

Whatever Happened To
Just Doing Something Different?

It’s as if we believe we have discovered something new, and now we can’t get enough of it, this innovation thing.

We toss it about, the word at least, like confetti.

According to my dictionary, to innovate is to bring in novelties; make changes in. Really? Well, it is an old dictionary. I got it when I was fifteen. Someone must have bought it for me, it cost thirty shillings, and where would I find thirty shillings. It still serves me well.

Being a little on the old side, however, I thought I should seek a second opinion. So I did, and got this: “to begin or introduce something new.” So there you are, I said to myself, something new, that clinches it. Couldn’t be clearer. A consensus. But is this what we do when we innovate, I said to myself, I do a lot of talking to myself. (I should know.)

Apparently we need to believe it is.

Like Mike Hosking, who believes that news reading is an “artistic pursuit,” we too need to be, or to be seen as, artists. Well, creative, anyway. With grim determination we set out to innovate, as if our lives depend on it. But why? Good question.

And the answer?

Because, in most, if not all, circumstances, we have no idea what to do next.

We wait and wait, hanging around hopefully, analysing earnestly among ourselves, until all the evidence is in, but all the evidence is never in. Never can be, even though we dedicate large sums to looking for it. There always remains the evidence that comes from actually doing the thing, and this we cannot possess, not until we have done it, and found that, after all, our big idea didn’t work.

If only we had waited until all the evidence was in. Relax! We can innovate instead!

You don’t need all the evidence when you innovate, innovation doesn’t rely on evidence, it can’t do, because there there can’t be any, not of the definitive kind, anyway, if its truly to be innovation.

Because if it is truly innovation there will be no precedents, nothing that could secure the necessary foreknowledge of success, or failure. You will be left contemplating an unscientific leap of faith. Or desperation. Or self-esteem. Which doesn’t make a good business case. It won’t impress your bosses.

Luckily, that’s not what we mean, true innovation, in fact it’s the last thing on our minds. Heaven forbid that someone would dare plunge undata-ed into unknown, potentially hostile territory. Stark naked into a shark infested pool. Leave the known world behind and risk unforeseen, if not career-ending consequences. Or worse, no consequences at all.

No, that’s not for us. Not in the real world. In our heads perhaps, yes, in our heads, we do it all the time in our heads, we get degrees in doing it in our heads, there are careers to be had doing it in our heads.

Innovation, you see, is for us nowadays an assertion of personal worth, the source of our self-esteem. And when we are all doing it together, joyfully, in teams, innovation becomes an affirmation of group worth. Truly, you can’t lose! Just tell yourself, and everyone else, that you are innovating and you can safely go ahead and do what you have always done. Nothing can go wrong.

Who will dare be the little boy wondering aloud why the king has got nothing on.

Innovation is the new orthodoxy. It doesn’t matter much what you do just so long as you say it is innovative, and your peers say it is innovative and your bosses say it is innovative and their bosses say it is innovative and the minister says it is innovative.

Thus we consummate a culture of constant change where nothing ever changes. We cannot risk real change, so we innovate instead, and heap accolades upon ourselves. Glittering prizes. Brilliant careers. Truly we are leaders!

The game is a simple one, anyone can play.  And we do, we all do, because we are innovators. Aren’t we? And innovators are never wrong. No, and as we pull our hopes down over us, like a suffocation, from within the reeking hovels of our heads we imagine a new dawn breaking, the beginning of a bold new era, and we believe, all over again we believe.

We sing patriotic songs, while the seas rise around us, the air clogs with CO2, the rains turn our fields to mud, the winds tear our houses down, and a frenzy that is very likely madness sweeps us out of our collective head, but we take no notice, on we rush, triumphantly on, innovating, innovating unto extinction.


mushy

Never a truer word spoken.

After spending some time wasting away my ill gotten gains of time and money working in the “addiction leadership group” can safely ascertain that those that be do not want change. But innovation?

Hell yeah. Give us more of that young NZFIEND.

Just don’t you dare change anything in the process.

 

Dairy of how to become a junky ADHD mess…

Anyways…Work it out for yourself…

Was going to ring you earlier but then just went to bed again… Been spending more than the usual amount of time in bed recently. It is the time of year for it – nothing to worry about. Just a little cold and winter bringing onset a wee depression, no doubt.

Promised Mum I would make her a new compost bin as Dad is dying slowly along with the rotted out fence she has been piling compost against for two decades.

Aren’t we all. Dying that is. His clock took on a new rhythm for a while recently… Just to be clear, this was not a old sixties dance hall classic number. More drumb and base poured into a blender with Motorheads final Ace Of Spades renditions…

Went down to Mum n Dads to measure up previously mention compost bin… To be made from wood, with my own hands. Would prefer to cut one from alloy and weld nowadays. Am enjoying my new tools and skills always need sharpening. Tools need sharpening and new skills? Half a dozen of one, six of the other. Some shit anyway…

Told Dad I was being operated on within four weeks of the doctor seeing my bum. Dad, as usual, without fail, without preamble, without thought for anyone outside his one square foot of universe,

“they have always got me in real quick, like the time I showed up with…..”

(sure,
my judgement and memory may be clouded
with time, space and
interesting neurological experiments gone awry
nonetheless, seems like this is a reoccurring theme one cannot discount my memory and feelings as completely inaccurate)

“Dad, they only get you in quick if there’s emergency or something serious” was the somewhat necessary interruption.

Yet still he carried on about HIS operations.. Oblivious to fact, his fiction weighing heavily on the judge and jury of his own mind.

Having actually had more operating table excursions over my fourty years younger span of life, he doesn’t bother to remember anything about my issues, health or happiness. Nor, it seems, going so far as to suggest others problems have been trivial.

When he sees me wince with pain just standing still he says “oh, your back is getting like mine, hahahaha”. Yeah right, like he has had emergency spine surgery and pissed and poo’d himself walking to the hospital… Fuck he is such a self centred fuck…. Unbelievable… This is going to require a breath, a thought of something happy and a lot of self restraint. Would be nice to have that loverly Clarrissa here with some restraints, but she was already booked and tied up elsewhere…

So he tells me all about HIS for the hundredth time in as many visits. Tiresome in itself.

Interruption time again….

Must record one of these conversations. You may, even the most die hard retard apologist among you,  be sympathetic to that at least. He sure ain’t.

“So, you have any idea why they would get to me so quickly?” 

“I presume as they are quiet at the moment and I was seen in that amount of time after a doctor saw my collapsed viens in my……”

WTF? Are you serious? Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuckme, fukme, f’me….. Relaaaaaaaxxxxxx…. He may be just about dead and nothing is going to change the guy now, even if he did think anything about himself and his life was not perfect.

FUCK UP DAD , NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU.

(well, I tried. Honest)

Dad, chastised for once. Not a pretty sight as it happens…
“I never said it was about me”

DAD, EVERYTHING YOU HAVE SAID IS ABOUT YOU. NOT ONE SINGLE GENUINE QUESTION, OR SO MUCH AS EVEN FAKED INTEREST IN WHAT IS GOING ON FOR ME. AM BEING OPERATED ON TUESDAY MORNING JUST FOUR WEEKS AFTER A DOCTOR SAW THE LUMP IN MY BUTT CHEEK DAD. THAT WOULD SUGGEST IT IS IMPORTANT, WOULD IT NOT?

“I don’t know son, they see everyone as fast as they can…”

Remaining the calmest possible, given fourty years of this sort of conversation… Hell, you people reading it are bored of it already. Imagine the effect this has on a kid growing up, or indeed the fourty year old man still trying to grow up…

THE FUCKEN SPECIALIST GUY I AM SEEING AT HOSPITAL IS THE SAME GUY WHO TREATED YOUR DAUGHTER

(funnily enough, also known as my sister, who died of Cancer May7th a few years ago aged less than me)

“Oh yes, he seemed nice… Although your sister argued with him, he knows his stuff. Top guy, really really clever…” …OMG

Really not bothering to remain calm in face of this much narcissistic stupidity DAD, WHY THE FUCK WOULD I BE SEEING THE SAME GUY AS KATE ? WHY WOULD THEY OPERATE ON ME SO QUICK ? WHY AM I BOTHERING TO TELL YOU THIS AT ALL ?

 

“I don’t know Tony, they are a good hospital though…..”

 

Oh for fucksake, if he wasn’t already on the waiting list for the cremation table I would kill this bloody idiot…

DAD, THEY THINK I HAVE FUCKEN CANCER FOR FUCKSAKE. WHY ELSE WOULD I BE SEEING THE FUCKEN CANCER SPECIALIST? THEY *DO NOT* GET YOU INTO OPERATING ROOMS IN THIS BROKE ARSE HEALTH SYSTEM IN FOUR WEEKS FROM FIRST SEEING A DOCTOR WITHOUT IT BEING DEEMED IMPORTANT.


Just in case he managed to avoid the point (as proven, he is quite bloody well capable)

 

THEY THINK I HAVE CANCER DAD. But I don’t. The really really really clever people and their two times through the MRI, the X-Ray, the Ultrasound, the various specialists including a muscular skeletal guy have it wrong.

However, I am going in Monday to sort out the procedure and am in Tuesday to have half the weight of my right arse cheek cut out… Will be good to get the bloody thing out. Even though it’s not cancer, it is annoying me more and more recently…

 

“Oh, why didn’t you tell us?”

 

FUCK ME.

 

Work it out yourself. Seriously.

 

Serenity is being free to pick your own snot…

Apologies to everyone whom has witnessed me struggling with nose issues (picking and digging at phantom pains and non existent snot balls) for last five months since nose surgery…

FINALLY GOT THE SOURCE OF THE PROBLEM…
image

This nylon stitch was removed from right nostril by a very fed up and irritable NZFiend utilising excessive force of left handed pinky finger nail.

Life maybe shitty, homeless, avoiding jail by skin of teeth, avoiding opiate addiction even though legs numb by spine clicking out causing agony…

Being able to pick and blow your own nose at will is true freedom.

Woke up today…

Woke up today. A normal thing to be doing. Just currently hate it.

Got up, well, sort of vertical as opposed to horizontal… Struggled to kitchen on this list*. Opened eyes to stare blindly into fridge… Pictures Saw this next to my fridge and, ADHD and DRUG ADDICTION experts will not be surprised, am now writing 700 words into WordPress instead of eating anything in the fridge.

Was stuck some place in November and drew this picture at top using paper stolen out a photocopier and a four colour pen “liberated” from an owner who did not use it (the black was almost empty) at first I only had a blue pen, thanks for the colour!

Also in November my kid must have drawn this picture at bottom (it is a calender, made by her school)… She is 12 now and have not seen her for a year almost, and will not see her, hear from her or get a Christmas or Birthday gift to her. Mum gave me this picture she drew last month.


Nothing to really look forward to.

Struggling to stay at all enthusiastic.

May be going to jail, have been evicted as “owner may want to sell”, have no where to go and have really run out of energy…… Just too much on my plate to deal with… am not coping…

Drugs and jail seem like good options when you have nothing to look forward to other than debt and stress. FRUSTRATION and being POWERLESS has lead me to be angry.

These arms are not self harm in the sense of the term.armsThey are, however, the result of hitting large windows without fear of hurting myself. This is not really self harm. No, really. It isn’t. Seriously. Fuck. Whatever… All you people with psych training can just piss right off…..

Am very lucky to be okay other than having bad bruising around ligaments and not being able to use right hand for anything without severe pain in the wrist and forearm…

Am very lucky the flying glass did not hurt anyone else too badly.

Am very very lucky these people are still talking with me….

At least via social media chat! Spent five hours from midnight on chat with the lady whom owns these windows. Guess we won’t be seeing much of each other in real life any longer. Totally fair. Cannot blame her for that. I agree. 

For she now looks at me like I am some violent criminal. God knows the Police and the local town gossip already have me fucked, but she was one who didn’t fall for their shit. She believed in me, but everything got too much. 

It is only a window.

But it is a loss far greater. 

 

Am struggling to stay on track as some people are worth staying on track for. For they have struggled too, and they care about others too. They care more about me then I seem to care for myself.

Thankful for some good friends in Wellington. Gave me money to make it home, and let me sleep off and on all day whilst they quietly stepped over me. Absolutely brilliant. I was holding back a flood of tears as he walked to my car to make sure it started at I was safely driving. My good friend from the coffee shoppe whom I care about greatly has been simply brilliant. Sure, I nag him and drag him outside his comfort zone and do all these things for him against his wishes.

He has stood by me no matter how annoying my life is for him. 

Am learning to care for myself, but still care for others first…

  • Some have headaches constantly, mine come and go.
  • Some have screwed up so badly, they don’t care and really fuck people over. I still care, just.
  • Some are content doing nothing. Am far from content, but appear to be doing nothing.

 

So, woke up today. Kind of wish I didn’t.

Coffee,
food,
a quick hug
from one of my chickens
may fix that.

For a time.


 

*LIST – noun

  1. a careening, or leaning to one side, as of a ship.

    verb
    (used without object)
  2. (of a ship or boat) to incline to one side; careen:
    The ship listed to starboard.

    verb
    (used with object)
  3. to cause (a vessel) to incline to one side:
    The shifting of the cargo listed the ship to port.
Origin 1620-30; origin uncertain
Synonyms 2, 3. tilt, slant, heel.

 

October 8th, awesome day, but 9th totally fucked me.

Having just wrote four hundred words on cellphone and WordPress lost it all, I am simply going to sum up… My best mate and beauty girl has to go. Used needles, so upsetting behavior.  Awake twenty hours, splitting headache, roosters crowing and I want sleep. Am not heartbroken, am truly shattered and just needing to get this yarn out. No matter how embarrassed I will be later, fuck you all. The cellphone screen is a blurry haze and my pathetic attempts at oblivion came to nothing, as they always have.

25 years of trying to destroy yourself, you think you’d have it sussed by now…

My young friend is awesome. Her future could be so great. She cares, she took me to family court, she is beautiful inside and out.

But she is complicated and dealing with addiction and mental health issues. She is also capable of some ruthless violence. I love her, admittedly.

Have tried, truly. We have had such a brilliant two days, and then seriously almost killed eachother. We faced up in public area. I admit that sometimes I see exactly what I am going to do, and it was not pretty. She had already managed to not cut me up or rearrange my skull, I could see that. But half an hour went by and she was still so shitty she was holding back from attacking me. She pissed me off so much I saw myself doing some stuff that I needed not to do. She has never seen me angry and not giving a fuck. It may surprise her. We were so close to seriously hurting eachother. I had already decided which bit of concrete her head would break on, but outwardly I was calm. I talked and joked with staff at the premises, I stole her cellphone from her lap as she went to drive off without my tools and bags. She refrained from whatever grizzly and horrid things she had planned. Even though we sat within hitting distance (oops, that was me. She kept moving away, although she was main aggressor, odd she was so keen to be violent yet stayed away..)

And, then an hour and she was still not talking and driving and stopping at gas station for hour without saying anything.

Another half hour of this driving down the motorway and I opened the door to get out. She stopped me by grabbing me, I think. No way was I allowed out.

Why would someone who wants me gone, stop me from leaving ?

Why is this crazily beautifully hearted young lady so willing to dismember me. Why aren’t I scared in the least of her? What hell will ensue if we both are bad at same times?

fuck. it is BaD enough without broken bones and blood. We would both give a decent job at that.

Fuck this. It will be jail. She cares, but everything is about her. Sometimes the world is not all about you. Hate to burst your lovely little 20year old haze of bubble.

She is lovely.

Yet I need her out my life right now.

Condemning myself to knowing no one in the area and financial and vehicle stress is not a nice thing.

She’s my best mate

And my most dangerous addiction.

I have to make her Not My Problem.

Am sorry and sad. After such a brilliant 40 hours, her Mum came out when we drove up to make sure we didn’t fight. I love this little scrawny LEGS girl.

I tried. I moved from Wellington for less drama and for a good friend. Looks like failed on both.

For I went and stuck a needle in my arm. I was crying and confused by my young friend. I was angry. I had been to family court and they treat me like shit. She was there, looking stunning in her jeans that are more see through lace than jeans.

Fucked if I know why she is my friend.

Or was my friend. For I did not her in that capacity for a while. Now it’s really fucked.  Wish she would let me, or others, help. I care and we can compliment eachother. We can
complicate eachother.

.

Almost killing your lovely LEGS best mate and most trusted secret keeper is not the path I want to be on.

90Percent of her is great. 10Percent leads me to smoking, needles and jail.

Can’t risk it any more. I loved some of the times together, and care for her and her problems more than she will allow me to help with.

She opens up to me like no one else, she claims.

But this old ugly man is closing the doors and locking them.

She has to be let go. But I am the one taking the fall. Sad. But house is rented to me. She has heaps of friends and family here. She should be fine.

Sent my only friend a message saying we can only spend five minutes a time with eachother and asked why she decided to care and look after and be my most trusted friend.

Got no reply.

Really sad, and not like me  but
NOT MY PROBLEM

I gotta stay out of jail, rescue some financial crisis and stay off drugs

I understand her past. She has good reason to be the way she is.

But can only grab what is in front of you by dropping whats in your hands…

Love you Legsies, good luck. Wish my friend will come back someday.

Aroha Nui girl…..

Time for this old worn out acne prone cripple to find some new friends.

But, no doubt, they will all be screwballs too