I am the Evidence

My angels incorporate glowing colors and various symbols of love, peace and hope. They make me feel good, being so colorful and serene at the same time. My plan is to make twelve and then make a calendar. I am blessed in many ways. It’s nice to be able to spread joy anyway I can.

Flowers

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bells

 

Shamrocks

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peace

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pudgy Hearts

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spheres

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stars

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunshine

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Autumn

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Winter

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spring

We are the sensitive ones. The intelligent and depressed. The deep and thoughtful.  The troubled and searching. We love words. It takes time to process the words, because of the nuances and semantics and complexities that many don’t comprehend. So if a person needs time to chew on a sentence it’s because they care.

Diner Dialogue

My favorite diner spins neon off chrome

Open twenty four seven

with a healthy batch of waitresses to flirt with.

My favorite friend spins words off the tongue

 and already knows what he wants.

 Relaxing in a booth; cocky,

we’ve memorized the menu: chef salad, clam strips, omelets, pancakes, milk shakes, fries…

and slide into a pattern of

“This is where I am.”

And “How was your day?”

And “I need time to breathe.”

The server asks “What can I get you?”

And you reply “What’s your name darlin’?”

“Erin, she says”

“O.K. Erin, I’ll have the BLT club and water no ice”

And we both see no ring on that finger.

My friend’s eyes light up when he realizes we’re on the same plate.

Then you say “Things move too fast. “

“How can I ask people to Please Slow Down?”

 I am hungry for life.

 I am hungry for love.

“The lives we are living are cracked yet repairable.”

We come to this conclusion:

Words are our thing.

Spoken and written and heard.

 And you always get decaf.

And we almost never get dessert.

And I always feel better afterward.

Here’s what you say:

“I care about what you are expressing, and I need time to digest it.

So talk slowly and strive to focus.”

Living in the moment at the diner-

This is what we see:

The Menus are molten

The salt and pepper is poison

The china plates are passionate

The coffee mugs clink with the spoons

The tips are tipsy

Booths are beholden

Cakes are in the case

The heavy tray balanced on one hand

The check is a conduit

The walk to the car is uncommon

Goodbyes, like dry toast, can be hard.

Goodbyes, like marmalade, can be sweet.

Normal

Sometimes my thoughts spiral down into a black hole where I am unable to process and even speak. I have been brilliant and witty on stage. I have had a room full of people cheering and laughing and hanging onto my every word. I have been confident and entertaining and quick. This can’t be taken from me. It is real. People have seen it. But people have also seen me break down. Clam up and walk off into the night.  

My good friend Richard was explaining, as we sat in the diner, his take on Frank Kelso Wolfe. I liked what he said. He put things into perspective and made me feel better. He said I was not normal (no big secret).  He said that I felt and saw things that many others don’t. It didn’t give me an excuse for blanking out, not that I need one, or for going psychotic or “fritzing out”.  It did explain a few things.

I am bi-racial. I grew up in a time when race relations were making strides but still tense(The Cosby Show). I grew up gifted and very creative in a town that sticks close to normal and doesn’t offer many outlets for creativity and the arts. My youth was, thanks to my parents, in many ways idyllic and charmed. There were some incidents of racism and tension but I did not lack for anything, and my home was full of art and books and all my parents ever asked of me was to do my best.

I was terribly shy (reticent) and never felt attractive to the girls in school. I did well in high school.  Honor student and Scholar athlete of the year and academic scholarship to Penn State Happy Valley. That was 1987.What follows is an account of a decent, not onto madness, but into being different. Of surviving and going my own way. I have a picture of me my first day at 212 Hartranft, the dorm room I would call home while I did my own thing for two semesters. My world was the college and college town by night. I wandered and ate and read and went to the movies and played pinball. I haunted Pattee library and roamed the streets. My wishes were my desires.  I was incredibly lonely. But I was having a good time. I was different.

Upcoming: Part two- “ The books I read, and “Almost Home Cookies”

Hi all,

Cone check out our new art display developed in conjunction with the Gallery on High Street in Pottstown.

Ed Schwenk, a Peer Specialist at Creative Health Services was a co-author of an article on work done by peer specialists. The findings are the result of a national survey. To access this article follow the instructions below.

Google “Psychiatric Services”

Browse content

Past issues

2010

May 2010

Brief reports

Mark S. Salzar, Edward Schwenk, and Eugene Brusilovskiy

Certified Peer Specialist Roles and Activities: Results from a National Survey

Sometimes the things we do are for survival. At times I eat to smother “The pain of being”. At times my mind makes up stories to deal with intense and scary realities. I don’t follow the news. I don’t get involved in politics or heated arguments on disturbing subjects. My Dad on the other hand at the age of eighty four reads two newspapers a day plus Newsweek and watches CNN’s Situation Room with Wolf Blitzer. When he wants to “get away” he flips on the Western Channel. My mom plays her solitaire and has a cup of coffee with peanut butter toast.

I never was a sports fan, although I played football, track, hockey and basketball. A few weeks ago I was in the locker room at the YMCA and the T.V. was showing footage of the turmoil in the Middle East. It was a bit too much for me. So I turned the station to a 24/7 Golf channel. I have never played a round of golf in my life aside from the miniature variety. That day I got a whole new perspective on the world of sports. The Thrill of Victory and the Agony of Defeat. Sports as a healthy diversion and a microcosm of life.

Do I have any power over the events unfolding in the world? I feel like a twig in raging torrent of events, but I have been learning, slowly, to accept the things I cannot change. I think globally and act locally. My perspective of the world is only one of billions (though I do sometimes feel I am the center of the universe). My life has been a blessed and lucky one. No hunger or terror or violence. I have never been homeless or without friends or family.

These days a lot of my focus has been on my health. It feels like I turned forty and here came the aches and pains. But I have been focusing on it to the exclusion of the good things in my life. People wonder what I get out of worrying and fretting about every tweak and twinge and pull and discomfort. I feel hyper sensitive and “Achy Breaky” as if something is about to pop every other minute. I have been asked to consider that these pains are psychosomatic. But it sure doesn’t feel like they are all in my head.

My good therapist has said on several occasions “The social worker must survive” To take care of myself so that I can help others. I will give myself a pat on the back for doing an admirable job in a tough profession. Despite my issues I feel I truly make a difference for the people I work with. I have been a CPS at Creative Health for three and a half years. I still make mistakes and errors of judgment and I learn from them. How much better could I do my job without these distractions and worry?

“These are the times that try men’s souls.” I am a twig in a raging torrent, but a bunch of twigs can clump together and eventually change the course of a mighty river. We do what we need to survive. I have a new book, and am giving some amazing performances. My social life is opening up, and I am trying to get more healthy physically and mentally.  I won’t give up on me.

3-31-11

Hi All,

Be sure to check out our Certified Peer Specialist extraordinaire, Frank, on WPAZ,  1370 AM, Thursday, March 17th, between 9am and 12 noon for a radio show dedicated to the spoken word.

One of Frank’s peers will be there as an observer.