I posted this morning. I am posting again. I do not give time for readers to read. Of course, I do not know if I really do have any readers. lol.
I came here for therapy. I just finished yelling and screaming into a phone. I was frustrated. A friend of mine listened ever so patiently. Then he brought me back to focus.
I talked of information. Good information. I talked about misinformation.
I talked with a man this morning. He was a Vietnam veteran. He was a 21 year veteran of the Los Angeles Police Department. He no longer works anywhere. He is in recovery. He has had a drug issue but he says he is recovering from the Vietnam War and the 21 years on the police force. He is a man I respect and admire. He is a man who is a consumate gentleman and who has provided me with sound guidance and tools by which to focus.
"Walter, you must realize something. Skid Row is not a place where you get accurate information. You get misinformation and it is systematically engrained into the environment," were his words. He feels that Skid Row is a game. A Cruel Game. He feels that counselors purposely give you misinformation so they can stay one up on you. Many people feel that way. "A person will walk into a door and ask a question. The person behind the desk knows the answer to the question but he will not give you the answer to the question. He also knows that he will deny your request, whatever it is. Walter, he tells you to sit down because he needs you to sign a sheet so he can have a full sign up sheet so he can build up his case for renewed funding. They let you sit there for hours and then they tell you "no" and they send you on your way. They waste your time because they do not care," was his lecture. He gave an outstanding presentation.
"Walter, this is a business. Skid Row is big business. " He talked about the Psych Meds he gets. he tells me that
he does not take them. he says the VA doctors do not look at your history, they are in the business to dispense medication. They are in cahoots with the drug companies according to him. I do know this. I have seen labels that show where one drug company is government run. I do not know if it is state or local. But I clearly saw the label in jail. It might be county. Do not hold me to it.
He told me that it is their business to dispense medication and for and for these organizations to give out misinformation.
"Walter, they want me to take all of these psych meds. They fuck me up. If I were to take all of these psych meds, I WOULD HAVE TO TAKE A HIT OF CRACK TO COME DOWN." I just stood there looking at him eye to eye. I did not move. He did not move his eyes. He wanted me to completely understand the profoundness of that statement. I am still grasping the depth of it.
"It is not geared for people to progress here. We fight to not sink." Wow.
Here is what happened after that conversation. More specifically after that sentence. I shook his hand and left. I called the public assistance office. I talked to my job case worker. She tells me that I do not have to see her until the 1st of november. I call my job specialist worker. she is upset because I was suppose to be there. I thought I could use a off site facility. I used one to comply with my housing requirements.
To make a long story short, I am in a catch 22. If I complied with all of the public assistance requirements
I can not comply with my housing requirements. If I comply with my housing requirements I can not comply with my public assistance requirements. I am figuring out what to do while I am on the phone with the government office and a man who was giving me day work so I can make some money wants to know if I am going to work. I tell the lady on the phone that I have work for two days. She tells me that is not acceptable. I have to turn in forms that state I am looking for work and that I have been deficient in that. She is worried about covering her ass. I can understand that.