Fundamental

It' such a good joke that I'm going to use it twice;

Fundamental - what you do with that tiny percentage of your tax dollar that goes to paying my Disability Support Pension.

I have covered much of the following in previous posts, but it is important in explaining who I am and why I behave the way I do.

In early 1997 I was a full-time, self-employed Courier in Adelaide, when my ex-partner moved back to Mt Gambier; I immediately quit the fulltime job, began working part-time nights, travelled weekly, etc, and quit that job to move full-time to Mt Gambier late 1998.

I really struggled to make aquaintances, let alone friends, until some-one explained to me that the 'negative' response I was getting when people asked me 'Why are you here?', and I responded - to be near my child -was because they didn't believe me.

People were not able to understand the context and therefore the reality; they had no experience of a man who would literally give up everything and move to Mt Gambier, and therefore applied their own context, one they could understand.

And that context? My ex-partner was fleeing a violent and/or problematic relationship and that I had followed her to Mt Gambier to continue the harassment and/or abuse, etc. It was one of those whirrr-clunk moments when so much immediately becomes clear under the right lense.  

This general attitude of others, this other context, has plagued me through-out my existence in Mt Gambier, and I still occasionally see that certain look on peoples faces. Being a large man is not always a positive.

After winning an Unfair Dismissal against the Gambier Hotel in 2001, I was rendered effectively 'un-employable', and was 'working' full-time doing volunteer work at my child's school, Lifeline, etc, to assuage my sense of guilt for receiving the dole. Very different to pre-fatherhoodness when I just didn't give a stuff.

Point is, that I was fully participating and broadly functioning, albeit well outside of normal paradigms; not particularly unusual for me...but then something changed.

Following the June longweek-end 2002 removal of teacher Glyn Dorling from St Martins Lutheran School, which I believe I may have mentioned in previous posts, the many balls that I had in the air hit the house of cards I'd built and in a cacophany of mixed metaphors, the whole lot blew away...and with it went my mind.........sssuui....here boy...sssuui...come on....

By early 2003 I was irretrievably in the grip of a massive psychological trauma forced on me by the Lutheran Church,  the rancidly corrupt Rann Labor government and particularly Rory McEwen, a gutless, pointless Opposition, SAPol, supposed 'Child Protection Providers, etc, as they all involved themselves in the Cover-up of the abuse of my child and dozens of others.

I asked for help, often, and in early-mid 2003 (will try to find exact date) I attended an appointment at Centrelink with their Psychologist Luciana (last name unknown). Her 'report' states;

          "...Primarily, I would recommend developing a good rapport with Nicholas, however, the
          boundaries must be clear. He is seeking affirmation, and the PSP worker must be careful
          not to give this to him. Once rapport is established, Nicholas would benefit from referral to
          a Psychiatrist. He requires a full assessment of his presentation - this will also assist in
          developing the intervention plan. Individual counselling would also be useful, preferably
          psychological counselling with a Psychologist......

          ...He reports volatile relationshipwith* most individuals, and talks of writing to Ombudsman,
          the Premier and Prime Minister. He is of the belief that hehas* been wronged, and that he is
          totally justified in seeking retribution."     (*I have copied her typos)

This is unfortunately a not entirely un-accurate description of how I 'presented', but the fact remains that I received none of the support or counselling identified, whilst this report pre-haunted me around a 'system' that was being officially told 'don't listen to him'; the language above specifically describes me, without using the actual word, as delusional.

Oh, how I wish...nothing would please me more than to have completely imagined the last 10+ years, then I could just have a nice tall glass of Lithium* and go on a long holiday...well away from here. Unfortunately, the reality is the reality, and I'm here 'til it gets sorted. 
    (*this is an attempt at humour to highlight the fact that despite the extreme nature of my experience
       as I claim in this blog, that even with the below diagnosis, I am not now nor have I ever been
       on any prescribed 'mental health' medication. I suggest this is because of the basic truth of what
       I am saying)

My continued pleas for support took me through Viv Maher's counselling rooms amongst others, but I never received any proper support until I ended up with a local 'Mental Health Provider' (psychologist), who in February 2012 subsequently diagnosed;
                             "Major Depressive Disorder"
                             "Generalised Anxiety Disorder"
                             "Panic Disorder With Agoraphobia"
and I was placed on the Disability Support Pension.

I do not mind sharing this for two reasons;
1)   these are real issues and nobody who suffers these "Disorders" should bear a stigma for it, and;
2)   because I consider that it highlights rather than diminishes what I have achieved, eg, for all the anger
       and mental trauma, etc, I have never raised my hand. Other than to pick up a pen...or a lap-top.

Receiving the DSP has driven me to try harder so as to assuage the increased sense of guilt as above (more benefit, more guilt), fueled by the relentless sense of failing my child and all the others. (please refer previous posts)

This Arvo: TFTIM Mayor Steve Perryman