I Am….

I have to admit that I have a small case of writer’s block and have had the damnedest time coming up with an idea for a blog post for today. Then a friend sent me one of those chain-type letters where you fill in answers about yourself and pass it along to other friends to learn more about them. I filled it out and sent it on and then got to thinking that it would actually be a nice way to introduce myself a bit to my readers.

Some of the questions are pretty mundane, but quite a few give you a bit of insight to my world. Enjoy!

 

LAYER 1: ON THE OUTSIDE.

Name: Miss Riki

Current Location: Chandler, AZ…Wishing it was Alaska or somewhere cooler. (These 100+ degrees temperature in mid-October are killing me).

Hair Color: Reddish brown…the result of too many at-home dye jobs I’m sure.

Righty/Lefty: Righty.

LAYER 2: ON THE INSIDE.

Your fear: Flying and Failing.

Your dream of the perfect date: A baseball game followed by drinks in a low-lit place. (Candlelight is a bonus. Everyone looks better by candlelight).

 

LAYER 3: YESTERDAY, TODAY, TOMORROW.

Your thoughts first waking up: Is it 6:00 already?

Your best physical feature: My blue eyes.

Your bed time: 10:00PM- very strictly. It has to be something really good to keep my up past that time.

 

LAYER 4: YOUR PICK.

Pepsi or Coke: Diet Coke for sure.                                                    

McDonald’s or Burger King: Neither-I try not to eat fast food.                          

Single or Group Dates: Single. I’m in the mood for love right now…

Adidas or Nike: Nike-“Just Do It.”

Chocolate or Vanilla: Chocolate!

Cappuccino or Coffee: Both- but add tea too!

 

LAYER 5: DO YOU:

Smoke: Never…most disgusting thing ever to me.

Cuss: Like a sailor all too often lately.

Take showers: Of course….I live in Arizona, so sometimes more than once a day.

Have a crush: YES!

Like school: I LOVE school, especially now that I’m studying something I enjoy. I think I’ve found my niche.

Believe in yourself: On occasion, but not often enough.

Believe what goes around comes around: Absolutely. Karma Rules!

Believe everything happens for a reason: Absolutely.

Think you’re a health freak: Um- I ate chips and salsa for breakfast and am planning on a hot dog and a beer at the ballpark tonight. I am NOT a health-freak!

 

LAYER 6: IN THE PAST MONTH.

Gone to the mall: Unfortunately, yes. I’m not a fan, though. I go when I must.

Been on stage: Yes; I played the flute in high school, college, and beyond.

Eaten sushi: Mmm….love sushi.

Been hurt: More than I’d like to admit.

Dyed your hair: Many, many times. At first because it was fun, and now to cover the grey. (Thanks, Mom!) I’ve been almost every color, but never blonde.

 

LAYER 7: HAVE YOU EVER.

Played a stripping game: When I was thinner and less self-conscious. (And possibly more tipsy).

Kissed the same sex: Yes. (No, you may not have details).

Gotten beaten up: No, thank goodness.

Changed who you were to fit in: No- I’m not that good of an actress.

 

LAYER 8: GETTING OLD.

Age you’re hoping to be married by: 80 (Hey- my grandmother did it….)    

Number of kids you’re planning on having: Probably none….I’m sort of running out of time.

 

LAYER 9: IN A GIRL/GUY.

Best eye color: Brown- they’re so kind.

Hair color: Any- bald is nice too.

Short or long hair: I like it short. (Mine is pretty short and I don’t want to date a guy with hair longer than mine!)

Fat or fit: Medium build- not too intimidating.

Looks or personality: Personality!

Fun or serious: Fun, but responsible.

 

LAYER 10: WHAT WERE YOU DOING.

1 MINUTE AGO: Watching playoff baseball on television.

1 HOUR AGO: At a doctor’s appointment.

1 WEEK AGO: Moving out of my home.

1 YEAR AGO: Falling in love.

 

LAYER 11: FINISH THE SENTENCE.

I FEEL: In limbo. I’m ready for a change.

I HATE: Negativity, pessimism, and prejudice.

I HIDE: My “unfortunate” body parts.

I NEED: True love and a schedule to follow.

I LOVE: My friends and family.

 

My Name is Riki, and I am a Sports Fan.

My name is Riki, and I am a sports fan.

Not a casual, oh-the-game-is-on-in-the-other-room-while-I-cook-dinner type of supporter, but a stop-everything-and-sit-down-to-yell-at-the-officials-and-cheer-on-my-team-no-matter-what devotee. Recently someone who calls themselves a friend attacked me via Facebook post (cowardly if you ask me) and said this: “Some people are too emotional. They are athletes. Paid to play. You have no real connection with them, but being a fan you feel as if you do.”

Well, no shit, mister. Yes, “my boys” are athletes paid to play, but I’m willing to bet that they started out as a child with a big dream and got to be where they are now through hard work and talent. No real connection to them? I’d say that the average 42,000 folks who show up to each game have a very real connection that you could only dream of having with some of your closest friends. It is my pleasure and I am honored to support my state and the economy is supporting someone who has followed their dreams by utilizing hard work and discipline.

The whole exchange got me to thinking, what is a “sports fan” really? Wikipedia (yes, I understand this is not an authorized academic source, but this is a blog, not a term paper) states, “A sports fan can be an enthusiast for a particular athlete, team, sport, or all of organized sports as a whole.” They go on to say, “The mentality of the sports fan is often such that they will experience a game or event while living vicariously through players or teams whom the fan favors.” I like that definition; living vicariously. Yes, that is what I am doing.

I am definitely one of those enthusiasts who follow their teams with fervor. Once on a first date I excused myself to the ladies room to watch the end of a game that meant nothing in the long run of the season on my smart phone in the bathroom and ended up being in there so long I had to blame “stomach problems.” On another occasion I contemplated pushing my date out the door of my moving vehicle when he asked me to turn off the scratchy AM coverage of the World Series on the radio. I mean, seriously. There would be no second date after that bullshit. (Note to self: Must start dating men who enjoy sports).

Today I would like to share with you things I believe true sports fans do; things they are proud to do. Feel free to add to this list as you like.

Real fans buy team jerseys and wear them in public, even in the offseason. I am a fan year-round and am proud to show it. I wear my team logos and jerseys out in public, and not just to a game. Since when is fandom limited to the confines of the stadium?

Real fans cheer for their team- all of the time. Win or lose, you will find me cheering on my teams and living each moment as if we might pull that game out. A real fan cheers for their team, especially when they are stinking it up out there. Does your team have a 100-year (or more) drought for a championship? Then you ought to be the more avid of fans and cheer them on even more! (Just think how much sweeter your next one will be when you’ve supported them all along). It’s easy to be a fan when your team is on top; it is real to be a fan no matter what.

Real fans know that trash-talk should be good-natured. Do you hate my favorite team? Great! Tell me all about how much you hate them and all of the reasons why we are going to lose against your own team. However, leave my mother and my dangling body parts out of it. I belong to a fantasy football league in which the men are constantly berating the mother or penis of the others and I’m finding it to be ineffectual. The best conversations and smack-talk exchanges leave moms and dangling bits out.

Real fans do not boo their own team- ever. I cannot think of a reason why I would ever boo my own home team, and I dare you to change my mind with a reason why it would be constructive to do so.

So, there you have it. My name is Riki, and I am a true sports fan.

Music to Live By

Since today is World Smile Day, I have decided to make this post about something that makes me smile the most, and that is music. For those of you who know me, I have always been a little on the obsessed side with anything musical. I blame my parents for this since I grew up in a home where music was constantly being played. My parents have eclectic musical tastes and I was exposed early to everything from classical to 70s rock to 80s hair bands as a child. I would come out of the bedroom rubbing my sleepy eyes and asking for more Fleetwood Mac please. When I was in elementary school I saw the high school band come perform in our cafeteria/auditoium/gymnasium and knew upon first sight that I wanted to play the flute. That dream came true, and I have now been playing for over twenty years.

As the years have gone by, I have turned to music as a soundtrack to my own life. The words and melodies of countless composers and artists have played as a background to my life story. I would like to share a few of my current favorites with you here. Please allow me to take you on a bit of a musical journey.

YEARNING FOR LOVE

In my adult life I have been lucky enough to have had wonderful male companions, but don’t think I have ever found actual true love. I’m in no hurry, mind you and have faith that the right man will step into my life when we are ready for each other, but of course I daydream about it. The first song I will share is “She Will Be Loved” by Maroon 5. It’s my tribute to yearning for love. (If the man of my dreams should happen to come along in the form of Adam Levine that would be okay too).

SELF-ESTEEM BOOST

Everyone needs a song in life that boosts their self-esteem. It is a song that makes a girl feel more beautiful, a boy feel empowered, and anyone feel uplifted. When I need that type of boost I go immediately to my recording of Jimmy Eat World’s “The Middle.” The tune is upbeat and catchy enough that I can carry it with me all day, and the words are inspiring.

DANCE TUNE

Another song that everyone needs on their personal soundtrack is a dance tune. At this time in my life, when I need to dance (or belt out a song in the shower for that matter) my go-to is Lady Gaga. I spent a good few hours looking at all of her videos and listening to songs before I finally came up with one of my favorites. Is she a bit on the strange side? Indeed, she is. Is she also motivating, tolerant, and uplifting? Yes, she is! The song I go to lately to shake things up a bit is “Edge of Glory.” I dare you not to dance and sing along.

WORKOUT MOTIVATION

On my personal soundtrack are lots of upbeat songs that motivate me to move my body. They are on a special mix on my iPod that I take with me when I’m training for the half-marathon or working out. One song that makes me want to shake my bootie and get moving along is Justin Timberlake’s SexyBack. I know it’s not the fastest beat in the world, but the song makes me want to be sexy, and working out is my path to that (very long-term) goal! **WARNING: Adult lyrics and video**

THE GOOD OLD DAYS

Finally, my personal soundtrack needs a song I can reminisce to. I enjoy my pastime of relishing in my beautiful memories, and I have found a song that takes me back to a point in my life in which I was extremely happy and felt light and carefree. The song itself, by one of my favorite bands, The Killers, is not particularly uplifting, but it evokes a feeling that fills me with nostalgia for a simpler time in my life. The song is “Mr. Brightside.”

Thank you for sharing in a few moments of musical joy! OF course time and space could never allow me to share all of the songs on my life’s soundtrack, but this is a select few that well represent the rest!

What songs are on your personal soundtrack?

5 Reasons Why I Love This Day

5 Reasons Why I Love This Day:

1.) It is not 100 degrees outside.

In fact, it is a blissful, cool 66 degrees this fall evening after a gorgeous 75 degree day of overcast loveliness. I love October in Arizona when we finally have the last of those 100+ degree days that have plagued us during the interminable summer.

 2.) There is playoff baseball on the television.

Right now the dreadful (in my own humble opinion) New York Yankees are battling the Detroit Tigers for a chance to play in the Major League Baseball American League Championship Series, and I am cheering along with all of the Yankees-haters in this nation from the comfort of my living room couch. October brings playoff baseball, and today I am enjoying it wholeheartedly.

I am in a state of joyful anticipation waiting for my home team Arizona Diamondbacks to take their own turn at a Game 5 in the baseball playoffs tomorrow night against the Milwaukee Brewers. Even though the game is not going on now, I am reveling in the pregame fun of Facebook and Twitter feeds that are predicting every moment and outcome. I love the way the fans in Arizona have come together in a campaign of #WhyNotUs. Indeed, why not? Tomorrow is our chance to show the world why we are a contending team, and I simply cannot wait.

3.) I am reaching my goals.

Today I took steps forward in reaching my personal goals. I attended my regularly scheduled personal training session and had a kick-ass workout. I also followed my new food plan to perfection for the fourth day in a row. Baby steps, you say? Yes, but steps in the right direction. Too often I jump forward and seek the end result without doing the work required to get there, but today I made small strides towards enhancing my life.

Also on the goals front, I am posting a blog post for the 6^th day in a row. That is a huge step towards my commitment to do something creative every day.

4.) I have wonderful friends by my side.

Today I was able to connect with friends in person and virtually via Facebook. I had a friendly sports argument with a dear friend, drank delicious coffee and chatted aimlessly with another and helped a third work out a life issue. Today I was blessed to have all of them in my life. They made me feel both loved and significant in this world.

I was also able to connect with new friends through amazing blogging communities. Thanks to the Internet, I have been able to reach out and support other artists and fellow individuals who struggle in the same way that I do, and have realized the rewards of their support in return.

5.) Tomorrow is a new day.

Finally, I love this day because it is nearly over and tomorrow offers fresh opportunities for growth and success. For all of the forward movement of today, there is more to come tomorrow and I am eager to greet the day and its endless possibilities.

 

Why do you love today?

 

Talking Could Stop Suicide-Be Kind

Going along with this week’s theme and supporting Suicide Prevention Week (September 4-10, 2011) I am doing a repost of a piece I wrote for Arizona State University’s State Press newspaper. It was printed March 14^th of 2003, but remains as important a plea as ever for students to support one another. In this column I am speaking directly to my college peers in a week where we lost a student to suicide. I could easily be talking to a high school or junior high community as well.

 Talking could stop suicide, from someone who knows

 by Riki Cleveland, guest columnist
 published on Friday, March 14, 2003

My brother shot himself. That’s right, suicide. When you see me, and the topic comes up, please don’t lower your eyes and mumble your sympathies. Please don’t tell me you know how I feel because your dog Buddy was hit by a car. Tell me it sucks. Tell me you’ve felt like that before.

Tell me about the day your parents got divorced, you failed an exam, you caught your fiancée with another lover, the car wouldn’t start, and you just felt so alone that you wanted to disappear. Then I can look at you and say, “I’ve felt like that too.”

Believe it or not, more people than you think are feeling the stress of college life on our campus. In fact, according to the American Association of Suicidology, suicide rates are significantly higher for 19-24 year-old college students than for non-students of the same age group.

The rate increase is credited to the fact that most students experience their first bout with depression in their college years. Go figure. The expectations of your parents, professors and peers are very high. We allow ourselves to get caught up in what other people in our lives think of us.

We are so busy perfecting our blasé act, where we pretend to be unaware of what everyone thinks of us. We look as if we don’t care. For some of us, it’s a full time job. The impression is that we just can’t be passionate about something. We just can’t feel that much. It’s just not cool to be different from the norm.

Take my brother, for instance. He was an 18-year-old boy in his senior year of high school. He had a style he liked – country western. Dumb, huh? What a dork. What kind of guy walks around in Wranglers and a cowboy hat? Students can be heartless, and college doesn’t change that. Did my brother’s sense of style aid in his alienation that led him to kill himself? Maybe not; but it surely could not have helped.

In order to prevent future suicides we have to normalize mental illness and the actual act itself. It is not weak, shameful, sinful, or selfish. This type of stigma keeps students from getting the help they need. We have to allow the feelings to be normal.

It has to be OK for us to talk about them. It has to be the norm. My brother was in the U.S. Army, and it’s just not acceptable to be emotional in the military. Maybe that’s why not a single soul was aware that he was hurting. Maybe that’s why a cop and a detective had to break the news that a young boy took his own life to a family who thought he was happy. Maybe that’s why I now get a pain in my chest that just won’t go away when a person takes his or her life while feeling absolutely alone.

All of us have causes we fight for. Mine is suicide prevention. You know it’s the leading killer of men 18-25. You also know we lost a classmate, Jeffrey Gleason, who is suspected to have committed suicide on Monday.

You know what? Nobody’s talking about it. But we have to. Since 1950, the rate of college suicides has doubled for women and tripled for men.

Some of the rise can be attributed to the accessibility of drugs and alcohol for students. It is easier to self-medicate when we’ve had a bad day. Alcohol also lowers inhibitions. We’ve all seen the effects at a party or over Spring Break. Adding depression to lowered inhibitions increases risk-taking tendencies toward self-destruction.

We have an incredible amount of support around us every day. We don’t have to be alone. Where is your support? Teachers? Dorm mates? Sororities? Fraternities? Sports teams? We have to use them. We have to look out for each other.

Nobody is too busy, too macho, or too strong. Please talk about it, and remember your resources. Hotlines (1-800-SUICIDE), peers and family are all great places to start. If you know a friend or loved one who is feeling suicidal, please remember the following tips: be yourself, listen, listen, listen, try not to judge, and get help as soon as possible.

My little brother died a very lonely death. I was denied the opportunity to say goodbye or tell him that I love him. Now my life has taken a different course. I ask ASU students to please keep an eye on one another and remember that there is a better way to solve problems. Call a friend, call me, call anyone.

In the words of Dr. Chris Carr, “Suicide is a permanent answer to a temporary problem.”

 

Thank you for allowing me to spread the word that suicide is preventable and it is only through speaking about it that we may erradicate it completely from our lives.

 

Suicide Prevention Week-My Story

To kick off Suicide Prevention Week (September 4-10, 2011) and continue my mission to share the aftermath of a loved one’s suicide in hopes of preventing another one, I am sharing an excerpt from an autobiographical essay that I wrote in 2003. The essay, titled A Brief Eternity is an account of my initial diagnosis of bipolar disorder and the few years that followed. It was within that time in October of 1998 that we found out my younger brother Kevin had taken his own life at the age of eighteen.

 I am honored that the essay itself won first prize in the Arizona Authors Association 2003 Literary Contest, but today I share this passage with you to give a factual illustration of how a loved one’s decision to take their life affects a family. It is my hope to touch the life of someone who may be considering suicide as an option, as well as to soothe those who may have lost someone in this tragic manner. Whichever end you are on, please know that you are not alone, and there are many places that you may go to seek guidance and support.

 All I had left to move out of my tiny apartment was the furniture and I was waiting impatiently for my younger brother to bring his truck by to pick it up. He and my father had gone to Rocky Point, Mexico for a family vacation. He was due back that afternoon and never arrived. I waited and waited and waited. I eventually ended up at my mom’s house, where we waited some more. Late that evening we reported him missing with the Chandler Police Department.

It was the longest few days of my life. Everywhere I went I thought I saw him. His cowboy hat; the smell of his Stetson cologne; his smile. Every white Chevrolet truck was his. Every phone call was him. Nobody slept. We all just sat around and waited for something to happen.  Did he go back to Mexico for some more fun? Was he in an accident somewhere? What was going on and why wasn’t he home yet? My dad and my uncle went back to Mexico to look for him. The evening they left we would know.

My mother and I were sitting in the living room watching the movie Opposite of Sex, with Christina Ricci. I’ll never forget that night. It was late, probably around eleven when there was a knock at the door that sent my heart straight to the pit of my stomach. All of the blood in my body ran cold as I walked downstairs to answer the door. Standing there under our dim yellow porch light was a uniformed policeman and a detective in plain clothes. They introduced themselves and asked for my mother. I walked them upstairs where she was standing.

I don’t remember what that detective said, or how he said it, but I know that I went numb. He told my mother that my eighteen-year-old brother’s body had been found in the desert in Tonopah, Arizona. He’d been shot. He was dead. It was a suicide. I’ll never forget the sound that came from my mother’s mouth that night. It was a sort of strangled half scream, half cry. The two men stood there as my mom sank down in a chair. She was sobbing. I was staring at the two men. I couldn’t cry. I tried, but there were no tears. I felt nauseated.

I know that questions were asked and calls were made. I called my dad, who was en route back home from Mexico with my uncle. The cellular phone made a dull thud when he dropped it. I called my grandparents and I was surprised at how strong and composed they were when they arrived at our house. I was so spaced-out and emotionally numb that I felt nothing.

 Please feel free to share this story with those people you know may be helped by it. I hope that you are never impacted by the loss of a loved one by suicide, but unfortunately to a certain degree we are all impacted by the loss of celebrities and sports stars who take their lives. Their often too public lives cannot escape the drama that will follow them long after their decision to leave this world at their own hand. Please find it in your heart to show compassion for those people and their families, who did not ask to be thrust into the spotlight in this heart-rending way.

If you are feeling hopeless and unsure for yourself or someone who you care about, please do not hesitate to contact the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1-800-273-TALK. Their services are completely free of charge, confidential, and they are available for you 24 hours per day, 7 days per week. If you don’t feel comfortable speaking to a stranger, please reach out to a friend, school guidance counselor, favorite teacher, church resource, or family member. You are too valuable to lose, and we are here to help you.

 Thank you for your ongoing support of my blog and of each other.

World Suicide Prevention Day-September 10, 2011

This will be just a brief post to announce my support of this very important day of the year. On September 10^th, I will be supporting the International Association for Suicide Prevention (IASP) on World Suicide Prevention Day. This day is part of the weeklong Suicide Prevention Week occurring September 4^th– 10^th.

On its website (http://www.iasp.info/index.php), the IASP states its dedication to “preventing suicidal behavior, alleviating its effects, and providing a forum for academics, mental health professionals, crisis workers, volunteers and suicide survivors.” They are not only avid supporters of lifesaving measures in preventing suicide, but a wonderful reference for those thinking of suicide or touched by the after effects of another’s completed suicide.

As many of you know, my life was forever altered with the loss of my younger brother, Kevin to suicide in 1998. Although the years are long since losing him, not a day goes by where I am not affected by it. Suicide Prevention Week is my opportunity to remember him in a productive way in sharing the effects of suicide on the family and friends a person leaves behind.

If you are a Facebook user, please consider virtually “attending” World Suicide Prevention Day on September 10^th to show your support. You may visit that page at: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?ref=home#!/event.php?eid=216451091704034 to participate.

Thank you for all of your support and kind thoughts, and I look forward to sharing with you in the coming week.

Best wishes and love,

Riki

The Best Compliment I Have Ever Received

This is just a short post recalling a past memory that made me smile. Enjoy!

In my former university job, one of my daily duties was to unlock our department office space in the building next door, which happened to also house the Disability Resource Center on campus. One average morning I received the best compliment I have ever received.

As I’m walking down the hall, an obviously blind gentleman (with an official guide cane and all) says to me, “My, don’t you look pretty in pink today!”

I happened to indeed be wearing a lot of pink that day, but was clearly stunned that this obviously blind man would know that. He is laughing and smiling as I ponder how this phenomenon is so.

After letting me wonder a while, he finally says to me, “I know you look pretty in pink today because he told me so.” He then points his guide cane at another laughing man farther down the hallway.

Thank you to you both for the best pick-me-up ever!

SWF Seeks CAP (Competent Adult Psychiatrist)

Single White Female seeks Competent Adult Psychiatrist. (Those not covered by my insurance or who have leather couches smelling of mothballs and insanity need not apply).

Seeking out a new psychiatrist is never easy. The psychiatrist-patient relationship is the most sacred and intimate one I know of outside of the bedroom. (And don’t get me wrong, it should stay that way. If it’s not…then you have real problems).  It has recently become time for me to seek new representation, for lack of a better way of saying it, and I set about my arduous journey methodically.

I started in the most logical place- my insurance company. After all, if the provider isn’t covered, I cannot afford the care and it becomes a moot point, right? So, off I go to the website of the insurance carrier that the state of Arizona has chosen to represent its employees in sickness (you may do your own research if you need names) and sought names and addresses of qualified clinicians. The website seemed pretty straightforward and produced an impressive 22 names.

I’ll spare you the three weeks of calls and call backs and cut to the chase. Out of 22 names, only seven were actually currently practicing psychiatry and accepting new patients. The rest were a hodgepodge of out-of-practice shrinks or family physicians that do not actually see mentally uneasy patients.

Out of the remaining seven, I actually got an appointment in the near enough future to make it feasible and booked a morning meeting. Dr. Freeman (names have been changed to protect the totally inept) welcomed me with a cool handshake and a “Nice to meet you Mrs. Cleveland.” We entered his very bare and antiseptic office and he sat on his left leg like a child before putting on his serious doctor face.

The next hour and a half- yes, ninety minutes- was like pulling teeth. He asked me to “please construct my illness from diagnosis to present, including all medications taken and reaction to them.” Um…well…seriously?

I was diagnosed at nineteen years old (if you do the math that’s fourteen very long years ago) in a manic state, followed by a lot of medication tweaking. That alone isn’t truly conducive to remembering medications with unrecognizable names and their dosages, much less how I reacted to each of them. That was swiftly followed by losing my only brother to suicide, which resulted in being drugged up even more, then a series of ECT treatments, which (please forgive me if I’m wrong-you are the professional here, right?) result in memory loss as well.

He mentioned over and over again to “Mrs. Cleveland” (although we clearly covered in my history that I am not married, not ever have been) that he is unable to help me if he does not know everything about my past treatments. I dutifully offered to get him my full records from previous doctors, but that suggestion was met with clear disdain, and it was very carefully explained to me that other doctors simply do not take the kind of detailed, careful (ahem- anal) notes that he does, and he “rarely finds them helpful in any way.”

Well, then. How did I ever find myself so lucky as to have landed my bipolar ass in the only competent psychiatrist’s office with no carefully detailed personally taken records on me? Dr. Freeman couldn’t believe it either.

After a long silence and some heavy sighing (on his part- not mine), he got right to the point. “Well, Mrs. Cleveland, I am not sure how you came to be sitting in my office today, since my specialty is child psychiatry.”

Whoa! Back the tuck up here! A CHILD psychiatrist? Of the many thoughts that flooded my brain, three stood out to me. First of all, why the hell did my insurance company send me to a clinician who does not treat adults? Second, why the hell did he wait until after that agonizing ninety minutes to reveal his “specialty” to me, when I clearly walked in the door as a 5’6” woman with no parental escort? Third, and most importantly to me, if this man was so clearly unpleasant and unbearable to a grown woman in charge of her own care, how in God’s name did he relate to children?

In the end I took away some good from the craziness. Yes, I was unbelievably frustrated to have taken time out of my life to indulge this man in his sadistic patient history techniques. However, he did make a very good point. It is very important for me to go back in any notes I may have from my experiences (most likely in the form of personal diaries and journals) and gather all the details of my reactions to medications tried in the past I can. He was probably right in that doctors have different styles and practices that may not translate well to another. The best way for me to take control of my care is to be my own advocate. Thank you, Dr. Freeman. Point taken.

Secondly, I did walk out with a referral to another doctor who actually specializes in adult psychiatry that happened to be covered by my insurance. According to Dr. Freeman, they have similar styles and expect a lot of background information from their patients, but somehow I feel more prepared to enter into my next appointment armed with as much personal documentation as I can dig up. I am quite serious when I say that I took away the importance of being my own advocate.

Looking back on the experience, I do feel as though I should have been sent to “time out” in the corner with a dunce cap while being told “bad patient!” Dr. Freeman may specialize in children’s issues, but it is clearly because he has no earthly clue how to relate to an adult. I can only hope that he is an entirely different professional when someone underage walks in the door.

My Shameless Request for Your Support

To my dear blog family,

Please allow me just one post to shamelessly request your support in an effort to raise funds for a cause that is very near and dear to me. This coming January 15, 2012 I will be walking in the P.F. Chang’s Rock and Roll Marathon/Half-Marathon in Arizona to support the EMPACT Suicide Prevention Center (http://www.lafronteraarizona.com/). The money I raise through sponsorship will go directly to support the Survivors of Suicide support group that was so instrumental in my healing after losing my younger brother in October of 1998.

My life was completely torn apart when I lost my younger brother, Kevin to suicide. He was eighteen years old and the light of so many lives. There are no words to describe the feeling of loss and hopelessness that permeates your life when you lose a loved one in such a dramatic and unexpected way, and with a suicide there are so many compounded feelings of guilt and anger that accompany natural grief. Thankfully EMPACT-SPC had a Survivors of Suicide (SOS) support group in our area, and we were able to attend. It was in that group that I found others who had lost a loved one to suicide and in an instant I felt that I was never alone in my grief.

It has now been nearly thirteen years since Kevin took his own life, and a day does not go by that I do not think of him and wish with all of my heart that he were with me. As time has passed, slowly people have forgotten the past, or I have met new people in my life who never knew him. This walk is my way of honoring his memory while serving the EMPACT-SPC community that made me whole again when I thought there was nobody. Please consider sponsoring me by donating through our secure online page at http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/EMPACT-SPC-Riki/PFChangsRockRollMarathonHalf-Marathon.

Thank you for allowing me to use this space to request your help. I am very much looking forward to the training that will lead up to January 15^th, and cannot wait to wear Kevin’s photo on my back with the love of a very proud sister.

Riki