I am “officially” a Roman Catholic “on their books” but I am currently non-practicing and have distanced myself from the Church. I am not alone either, so many others have done the same.

I was not a “cradle Catholic”. My family of origin was Baptist, although a more liberal group that split off of a more conservative group.

However, my family of origin were also sporadic church goers. We simply did not go every Sunday.

As a Catholic, I became a more faithful church goer than I ever was as a child.

(above photo by Stacey Koenitz, via pexels.com)

The Church was an amazing discovery for me and for many years I was quite devout.

I was SO devout, I tried to enter the convent when I was in my early 30’s. In time, I discerned it was not “for me”, which means I believe I did not have this calling, but for a long time I thought I did, and so did EVERYBODY else.

Literally, even non Catholics, even my own non-Catholic family thought I had a calling to the convent.

When I did not go, people were not happy. I think also they supported me in it a lot, and they felt let down.

To that, may I say “I am sorry”, but part of the process of that, is “discernment” which means you need to ascertain if God is truly calling you to the convent. God is the one who calls, so other people don’t have a say in that.

I do however, truly appreciate their support during the time I was pursuing it. I am sorry I let them down, but sometimes you have to do what you have to.

I also married “on the rebound from the convent”. It is true. When you are with a convent or religious order, and you decide to leave, it leaves you confused, lost and empty. You feel like you no longer know where you fit in the Church you wanted to serve.

Not long after I left the Church, I also met the man who I would marry. I should not have married him and that’s another story (like most things in my life), but he was married before me, divorced and that creates a crisis for a Catholic who marries such a person.

I could no longer take the sacraments because I married him.

Also, a few years after I quit the convent and married my husband (now ex husband), the news of the clergy sex scandals exploded on the media waves.

I was SHOCKED. Now I knew adults might act up, and I did wonder how clergy live out celibacy, especially males, but the fact that children were the victims, just BLEW ME AWAY!

I had chosen this Church and I had no idea what was going on behind the scenes. So…..WOA. Just WOA.

I also think cradle Catholics (those born into the Church), were also shocked and betrayed, but I guess I really felt it because the Church was my CHOICE.

I had also graduated from a Catholic Franciscan university. I had spent quite a few hours studying Theology and other Religious studies. I had almost primarily Catholic peer and friends.

I was as Catholic as the Pope, even though I was a convert.

Suddenly, the Church wasn’t what I had thought it was.

I also had a huge struggle after my divorce. My divorce severed ties that the Roman Catholic church called “improper” (my husband was divorced and not Catholic), but it also made me “divorced” which changed my status in my own Church.

So my divorce and ending my relationship with my ex husband, really did not cure or resolve anything for me.

Then in time, I am not sure why, I also had a lot of pressure to “go to counseling” and I had already tried that, and had a very adverse opinion against Psychology, Psychiatry etc.

That “push” into something I did not like, want or even believe in, led me to move further away from the Church. I highly resented them doing that.

Also, after my husband (now ex) had taken me away from the Catholic church, I divorced and tried to return, I found out a number of other changes had taken place in the Catholic Church.

I remember my first few masses going back to the Church saying to myself, “what are they saying?”. They entirely changed the wording (which I cherished).

One of the things I loved about the Catholic church was that the Liturgy was standard. Even if you go to another country (I went to mass in Mexico once), it is still standard with maybe some cultural deviations here and there.

That standardization was something I liked because it kept us all worshiping “on the same page” as a community.

Now they changed the wording. I could not even figure out what they were saying for a long time.

In time, I began to understand that larger things than me plagued the Church so they made many changes to try and “fix” it all, and in doing so, they moved away from me or alienated me.

I grieved a long time over all of this. I could not understand it. It didn’t make sense.

It has taken me years now to realize that God is God is God, no matter where you find Him or where you worship Him.

Church is man-made — God is well, not.

I still grieve the Catholic Church. But everything about it is something I no longer recognize. I do not really know what to do about that.

Also, attitudes changed, and many Catholics are also angry now. I can see why, I suppose. But angry people don’t attract other people.

Anger is funny too, because if somebody is angry at you, you might just return it and then nothing is good.

I do research and spent time here and there, still trying to figure out “where my Church went”.

But I also concluded that the Church I joined in 1975, no longer exists.

That was a profound realization, and then ……now what do you do?

I think I still don’t know what to do. I have tried other religions and found more welcome in Jewish synagogues than I find now in a Catholic Church.

There are many things as well about Islam that I absolutely admire and relate to.

Sometimes too, I might hang out with Protestants, but not as much as I used to. Just recently I met a Lutheran Pastor who truly “got” my struggles and that quite impressed me, so I went to his church some (plus I have some history with that denomination).

There is God and He is one thing, there is church/synagogue or mosque and that is quite another thing and then there is community. I suppose if you are truly fortunate, you can merge all 3 together, but I don’t have that good fortune anymore.

Sometimes, you just can’t go HOME. So I guess you have to make your own “home” someplace else. But where is that? (I’ll get back to you).

(above picture by James Collington, via pexels.com)

First of all, no American should be hating another. It is simply not acceptable. Unfortunately they are being encouraged to do so by a certain government contingent — and that is not acceptable either.

I am not sure, though, that if things can resolve in the United States into some semblence of decency again, even the GOP might see their mistakes. One can only hope.

Certainly so many have turned away from the pure hate in their party. I do remember a day when being a Republican did not mean you were a hater.

No political party needs to stand for “Hate”. “Hate” should not be a political platform of any kind.

So right now, there is hope for me. Some real hope — it happened quite by accident.

But there are still those who might like to destroy my hope. I am very worried and frightened about it.

I am also in a terrible situation.

When did Americans stop going the extra mile for each other? I really need somebody to do that. If I can get from A to B, B might really change my life for the better — it might SAVE my life.

Somehow, abandoning good people to just succumb to terrible things, is “in” right now, particularly among Christians — which is also not acceptable.

There is a movie I just love — a favorite of mine called “Seabiscuit”. It was very popular so many people probably know it.

If you are not familiar with the movie Seabiscuit, it’s about an event which happened during the Great Depression, where people who had lost everything in life, teamed up to do something extraordinary — win a major race with a horse that was down on it’s luck.

People who life had beaten, got together and gave the whole nation hope through a horse race.

I absolutely love this movie. Below is a quote that so impacted me. It is just true (or should be true):

“You don’t throw a whole life away, just because it’s banged up a little”.

From working in my earlier days with those who were banged up a little, from experiencing it myself, I could not agree more!

Sometimes in my life, haters have not won. In fact, often they have not won.

Even in the town I grew up in, there might be this hateful group that wanted to bad mouth or blame or harm me, then I would be associated with a better group, more accepting and caring, and my life would change for the better.

Then, the hateful group loses their power over you.

It’s a shame anybody has the power to impoverish people and keep them impoverished. It’s a shame any person would ever want to harm another like that.

But it happens to me all the time.

In Rochester, they said to me, “why do you think everybody will hurt you?” I did not always think that way. I think that way now, because especially since the last elections, it happens to me a LOT. Not a little — a LOT.

I think that because nobody has truly opened a door and given me a chance I need and can do.

I think that way because people have said the most hateful, ugly things to me.

I think that way because people have treated me so badly, over and over and over.

Human beings are students — we learn. We learn better than AI and AI’s are “learning machines”. Human beings built them to learn but they are truly based on how our brain learns.

So human beings always learn, but do they always learn the right things?

Human beings will learn by what they see, what they hear, and mostly HOW THEY ARE TREATED.

How a person is treated, is probably the final determiner of what a person learns. It affects their world view drastically.

So if you beat somebody up enough, they learn the world is an evil place, people are bad, and people will hurt you and then you just wait for that to happen.

Sad as it may sound, that’s what bad treatment teaches people.

If you want a BAD BOY, treat them badly and that’s what you will get. (It is the same for girls).

When I was actively classroom teaching, I learned that for myself. You may have a child acting out, but you can’t just punish them so that it reinforces that they are “bad”. The more you do that, the worse behavior you will get.

I learned a system of Education that I really liked, called “Love and Logic”.

Love and Logic was a system whereby you tried to get students to identify positive choices, and then choose those for themselves.

When a person feels “bad”, that really is all they will know.

I wish we would learn this and employ it with each other.

I am now in a place where it seems there is NO help. However, there is something else here: there is something I have been looking for, all over.

There is something which would change my life and save it too.

There is hope here, even though maybe some people don’t want me to have it.

But some other people DO want me to have it. That is enough for me, for now.

If you can find your “peeps”, your “tribe” — a place of acceptance where you can thrive and grow.

Then everything becomes possible again.

For me right now, “hope” is so close I can see it, taste it, smell it.

There are those that are thrilled for me! There are also those who would like to destroy it, and destroy me too.

I have struggled so hard, that right now I am not sure I will live through it.

But sometimes, that’s when the miracles happen. (I have experienced that before).

Hope is like a soft rain that begins to fall on a flower, growing alone in the desert, which is parched and dying — then sweet rain falls, cooling, hydrating, drenching, bringing HOPE and LIFE — the flower lives and grows, and feels RELIEF. (the above reference is from a poem I wrote in my childhood that sticks in my mind, even though I lost the notebook I wrote it in).

“Every horse is good for something. You don’t just throw a whole life away, just because it’s banged up a little”.

If only we could learn.

You don’t throw people away….. was originally published in RISE &WRITE on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I came “home” recently, what does that mean? What is “home” — what wisdom and insight does that word contain?

You really know what “home” is when you lose it. Many people in the United States know exactly what I am talking about — but others have never experienced that misfortune (they are truly the fortunate ones).

Sometimes when I am being a bit angry or vindictive (I have my moments), I think the ones who have never experienced that, need to.

However, no, I don’t wish them that kind of living hell. It should not be wished on anybody, and unfortunately 693,000 to 698,425 people in 2026 in the USA do know what that is about.

Six hundred ninety-three thousand to 698,425 people is a LOT of people.

Let’s give it some context:

Washington DC has a population of 693,645 as of 2025, and other cities with a similar population are Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, El Paso, Texas and Las Vegas, Nevada.

Imagine one of those cities with all it’s people completely unhoused, and that gives you some idea of how many people are experiencing homelessness in the USA as I write this. It is a “few” people.

What does it mean to lose a home? It means losing safety, warmth in the winter, cool in the summer (maybe), a place to keep yourself healthy, fed, clean, a place of your identity, roots, a place to identify with and so on.

More than that, “home is where the heart is”. It is a place of your heart.

Your heart longs for home. All our hearts truly long for home, whatever that is, and whatever that means to us.

For some people, “home” might be an extended stay hotel, or an Airbnb for a time, and for others they have an entire house, or a small house, or an apartment, studio or larger.

Some even have tents these days, but that is not fit for continuous human habitation and should not be happening.

To some their car becomes their home, or an RV or a van, etc.

I think it is a function of “security”. I think one of the most overwhelming aspects of losing one’s home is the loss of “security” and “safety”.

This impacts a person’s psyche tremendously, and leads to huge insecurities.

What does it feel like to suddenly have your own apartment after not having one and being at risk and always temporary for an extended period of time?

It feels like God just moved heaven and earth, and angels just descended upon you, that’s what it feels like. But I think a person’s brain cannot keep up with the concept of a major life change for the better.

I think it may take time for a person to truly understand they are “safe” again. It may take them time to adjust to the usual creaks and groans, and general noises of the places, or of a nearby neighbor.

But as the days go by, “home” starts to register mentally. You go out and you come back to the very same place! In a bad storm, you are inside and safe, and not out there praying to make it through. Mostly, in most cases, you are safe from any dangers at night, and so on.

It may seem that a person who finally gets housing after a long time without it, maybe even seem ungrateful. I can tell you that is not the case, but I can also tell you it just takes time for the brain to catch up.

In conclusion, “home” is much more than a four letter word starting with “h” and ending with “e”.

It carries safety, security, smells of warm food cooking, warmth so that you can watch the snowfall and be safe while doing it. It is clean clothes, clean dishes, hot bathes, a comfy bed (hopefully) and days of nothingness and days of extreme busyness, but always it is a place to feel safe, warm and it is YOURS. It is your little box that you can call your own (or big box as the case may be).

Everybody needs a “home”.

Mayo Clinic in a satellite rural location, saved the day for me last night, and caused me to warm up towards them considerably.

I had to go to the ER. I am having very tough times and just trying to get through it right now, and yesterday I had a horrible episode of bashing that never should have occurred, and I traveled away from the “scene of the crime” to another place. I ended up getting really sick in the middle of the night.

I then called the local Mayo Paramedic team. I was so glad they came! I was shaking badly (I shook the ER stretcher for a while), and I literally was in severe pain all over, plus naseous, my neck hurt terribly and I could barely move. I also felt like I was going to pass out.

The Mayo team was just amazing! I was quite pleasantly surprised at this.

I have had many abusive ER visits in other areas (not Mayo but other hospital systems), but I really did receive very good care from the local Mayo ER last night.

It seriously warmed my heart too. My heart seriously needed warming just about then.

(My ER doctor said “we are going to take good care of you” and God bless him/them, they did)!

The great care I received last night at Mayo ER, reminded me of the Mayo Triage Nurse many years ago, who probably may have saved my life, after another Minnesota ER dropped the ball.

All of the ER staff at Mayo last night were amazing, and so was the ambulance team.

(The efficiency of the Mayo team last night also reminded me what good co-workers they would make! Thought I would mention that).

They were simply angels to me. I am so serious.

The doctor highly suspected I was just having a severe stress reaction to the harsh treatment by the police, but he checked troponin levels for my heart anyway. He was thorough and I appreciate that when I wasn’t doing so well.

While I was waiting for the tests, I was able to sleep well, and in the morning they ordered a breakfast tray. My appetite is really down, but I ate some of it.

In the end, my heart did check out (although many times it has not, but lately it has seemed to be a bit stronger, but I don’t know how).

I almost wonder if the Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy I have been plagued with, is healing a bit?

I had one ER doctor at night (about 3 am or so), and another in the morning. Both were very nice. The nurses and lab people and well, everybody, were so super.

I don’t how I was so blessed, but I was.

Mayo Clinic must have put their mark on me a little while I was applying for jobs, because honestly, Momma Mayo was a really safe place for me last night.

My opinion of Mayo Clinic went WAY UP. It almost made me not want to give up on working for them.

After sleep and food, and about 5 warm blankets on me, I began to settle down a bit. Compassion from the team also really helped my feeling of safety to return.

I felt a little encouraged when I left, although my situation is certainly still up in the air, (but some progress is being made).

Well, Mayo Clinic is a mixed bag and it does depend on who you ask for an opinion, what people say.

But for me last night, I was a 100% satisfied customer. I am just so glad for them when I felt so bad.

Good medical care can be challenging to get, but I guarantee you, last night a 68 year old lady who everybody is bashing, found hers.

God bless Mayo Paramedics, ambulence crew and ER staff last night. Angels sent to me during a really tough patch.

I also ask you to understand that I am not my brother, I don’t condone what he did, and so please do not judge me because of him.

If you feel that you had mental health treatment and it was great — then great. Good for you and I am happy for you. If something worked for you, that is wonderful. But it does not work for everybody and I am about to tell you I why — Please do not judge this article in light of that. Thank you.

The above photo is of my older brother (possibly before I was born — he was 5 years older than me), and my Dad. My Dad passed away when I was 16 and my older brother Al, took his own life in 2005.

• *Trigger warning — this does not glorify, describe or promote suicide. But it is a tribute to my brother who was the victim of “mental health gone wrong” and I think people need to know that the mental health system which is so liberally preached and pushed on everybody, can actually destroy. (and its way more common than you think, plus it’s WRONG).
• I have university degrees and mostly they are in Psychology. I also have post Graduate hours, in which I was studying for a Master of Science in Clinical Psychology.
• I did not graduate on purpose. Why? I realized after studying Psychology that it is not all that great, not cracked up to be what people think it is, and it can do MUCH MORE HARM than many people think.
• The mental health system can be the CAUSE of suicide. I can back that up if you like, although I won’t unless pushed to do so, but I can.
• So I want to write about my brother, who was a victim of this system. I also want to highlight why I think we should not push this on people it does not work for.

I am not really sure when we all began to worship at the altar of Psychology? When Psychology/Psychiatry became a religion or when we started calling it “perfect” and bow down to it? (how I feel about it)

Honestly, some people act like the mental health system is this PERFECT “god”. I feel it is almost like our new religion or cult. I am also distressed and saddened that some religious groups incorporate it. I have my own reasons why I think this is dangerous (incorporating the mental health system into churches is another reason I am not an avid Christian now).

I spent a good deal of time studying Psychology, some time working with it, and even starting advanced studies of it, when I threw it ALL OUT THE WINDOW.

That was before my brother’s death.

It really has galled me that just run of the mill ordinary people learn psychological terms they really don’t understand, and them burden people with it, quite wrongly, just to bully them.

Psychological labels and terms were meant for the clinician, not “Billy Bob” on the street. They are “tools” and not God himself. They were just something to “work with” not define and keep people sick so they will never get well.

Also, some people (who aren’t experts at all), need to realize the counseling process, or treatment processes are not for everybody. Granted, maybe it helps some people (I am not the judge here, if it works, then it works). I just do know that many people don’t do well with it, and I also know some professionals will agree as well.

We don’t have “one size fits all” people. Neither does psychological treatment “fit all”. Much damage can be done because we don’t understand this.

Also, the mental health system is sometimes used as a POLITICAL WEAPON and I think it is used just like that, now. After all, it makes a nice way to negate and shut people up, which suits some politicians. (What a great way to eliminate your political opponents!).

I see no reason to be pressured with it, or have others pressured with it. Especially if adults want counseling, most are well aware of how to go get it. They really don’t need your help with it — unless, of course they ask.

Now for bizarre behavior and things that are truly harmful or too bizarre that it is harmful to others, well of course then that needs to be managed, somehow.

But some people might be fine — not hurt anybody and just getting along in life.

I see no need to burden or bash them with mental health.

That was what was done to my brother. I think it was a wrong move.

(photo by author, my original nuclear family of my Dad, my Mom, my older brother and me — later we had two new additions when I was 11 — twins, my brother and sister — this was taken before them)

My brother Al was 5 years older than me. He was proud to have his little sister, and it might have been how pumped he was to have a little sister like me, that made us grow up very close.

He was my big brother, and I loved him and admired him greatly.

There was a time when I thought my older brother could do anything!

He wasn’t a rocket scientist, he was an artist. He was a very good artist too, and even sold his work later. I wish I had photos of it to show you here, but I have lost so many important photos.

At one time, I had some of his prints framed and on my wall in my home when I was married.

He also liked to create things, build things etc.

He was an enthralling story-teller too. People would sit and listen to him for hours. He was very charismatic.

He loved martial arts, making model tanks, science fiction, Star Trek (he was a Trekkie and went to many Conventions), and I just thought he could do no wrong.

Of course, in time I learned that we all do wrong, and so could my brother. In the end, he did the ultimate wrong, but we will get there…

My brother Al did have some problems and eccentricities. I used to ponder why. I think he may have suffered some abuse when he was little, but I don’t really know and I can’t really say — it is just speculation. I never thought my family was particularly abusive, but I can’t say what may have happened before I was born.

Al began to develop some darker tendencies in his late teens. So he had a breakup with a girl friend once, and I was practicing piano and I heard him come in, go to his room and shut the door.

I just sensed something was very wrong so I checked on him. I caught him with a bayonet in his hand, about to stab himself.

I grabbed the knife and screamed for my Mom, who came right away, grabbed the knife and then she told me to leave and she had a talk with him.

I have sometimes worried about what she said to him. Mom did not have the best sense about some things, although at other times she had profound wisdom.

My brother also practiced the martial arts, and at one time, so did I and some of our friends too.

I guess we sort of had a “martial arts” clique going for a while with a group of friends.

We, (me, my brother and other friends), studied Taekwondo, a Korean martial arts that many people are now familiar with and that features high kicks.

(I am fat and busted up now physically, but at one time I could kick the height of a grown man’s shoulder and also do flying kicks…)

My brother went on in Martial arts after I decided to quit, when I was more invested in college and my education.

He joined another more violent style of martial arts which disturbed me because it was more “cult like”. He received a tattoo on his right hand (I think — it could have been the left), and it was a sign of a “brotherhood” of this particular martial arts. Again, I was not too enamoured with it, but he went on in life and it didn’t seem harmful.

(This tattoo was important for many of us when we viewed him in the casket, because he didn’t exactly look like himself, and that tattoo was something we all looked for to identify him with certainty).

He did get his Black Belt in that style of martial arts. He later got a second degree too, I believe.

My brother took great interest in Oriental history and culture via the martial arts. He took that further and learned Kendo, which is the art of the Japanese sword.

He also studied seppuku, and the idea of honor in the samurai culture and of an honorable death by one’s own hand. I did not like that and worried about it, but he went on in life and nothing happened.

He did make that one suicidal attempt in his late teens. We just went on, and I don’t think that was particularly harmful. Sometimes intervention can be quiet or come from friends too. Psychology doesn’t fix everything.

I cannot tell you everything about my brother, but I’ll tell you what I know. He married my best friend. Now, my best friend is not my best friend either. Sometimes when roles change, so do other relationships.

Also my “best friend” gave me some advice which was damaging to my life, so I probably have not forgiven her for that, although I don’t dwell on it like I used to.

My brother and his wife had 3 children in total. They were three girls. They were lovely girls and his untimely death also gave them many extra burdens to live with as well.

When my brother was married about 25 years (or close to it), he and his wife divorced. He hated to be alone, and this was very hard on him.

My brother Al also made friends really all over the world — beyond the USA. He attracted people because he was so charismatic and interesting. He made friends in Wales, and in the latter part of his marriage, him and his first wife visited Wales. I believe he competed in an archery tournament and took 2nd or 3rd place while he was there (he was a pretty good archer — I know, I used to shoot with him).

(At Al’s funeral there was a literal out pouring of people, some of which I had no idea about and had not met. He touched and influenced many people).

I cannot comment on his divorce and it is not really my business, but after 25 years of marriage divorce is exceptionally stressful and hard on anybody.

I had moved away in my own marriage at this time, so I didn’t know everything that occurred, but I do understand he was very depressed at that time.

Because my brother did not like to be alone, he sought out a new relationship rather quickly. They married and this marriage ended up not working out, pretty quickly upon the heels of the first divorce.

Again, I will not speculate on their divorce, I just know he was not taking it well at all. He slipped into a depression.

His employer noticed a drop in his productivity and maybe some other signs of depression, and pressure was placed on him to go to an EAP counselor.

I am not a fan of EAP counselors. These are people a company employs for the company’s good, not yours. I think they tend to hire people who are not too good or experienced. I had my own brush with it once and was horrified.

I think my brother was horrified too, and when he began to talk about what was going on in counseling, I realized his counselor had opened an emotional “can of worms” he never could handle in his entire life, at a time when he was under the worst stress of his life.

I felt this was a wrong move on the part of the counselor and very dangerous (I was right later).

Then, when the counseling began to miserably back fire and he was not getting better, psychiatric meds were employed. I am not a fan of these at all either, and many of these medications can push people into suicide (it is well documented).

Upon taking meds, my brother was writing me emails saying “I just can’t feel good anymore”. I suppose he also reasoned that chewing the meds would make them work faster.

Plus he also decided Scotch would wash them down well.

It didn’t. He began to just become paranoid, and obsessed with a gun that he had conceal carry for (yes, the State of Missouri in it’s infinite NON wisdom granted him conceal carry).

My family, (his family) was becoming alarmed as he became more and more obsessed with his conceal carry gun which he now would not part with, including in public.

Eventually, it all spiraled out of control. Shortly before the divorce was final, he committed the ultimate act, and took his own life.

I am leaving out many details for the scope of this story, so please don’t get the impression that my family did nothing to help him. That was never the case. Measures were employed to help him. Family did come around him, and at the end, I understand family members were even trying to “watch” or keep an eye on him.

I very much blame the mental health system and it’s failures as a whole for his death, and psychiatric meds too which have been known to cause suicide at times, and the counselor whom he was seeing, who should not have (in my opinion) allowed him to dwell on some issues which were major and something he never could accept in all his life. (The family was fully aware of it, but he could not deal with it, and I think that was a poor time to try and start it).

I know from my own studies, that the mental health system is far from perfect and for many people, it can be ineffective or even make things worse.

When a crisis happens, it is very sensitive to decide what to do. Some “well meaning” interventions can backfire.

It is not always possible to stop suicide, but there are things which may help a person stop dwelling on it, and make them pull away from it. Counseling is not always one of them and psychiatric meds are not either (they can aggravate it, and I can back that up and document it, if somebody objects).

It is my own personal opinion that prevention of suicide is very important and there is not “just one way” that can be done either. I think heading it off at the pass and preventing a person from slipping into it, are things we should study and employ more of — but never force.

Force, I don’t believe, is ever good for anybody. It can truly backfire.

That is why some of the ways we push the mental health system on others, I just don’t condone.

I wish the mental health system was dismantled and …..I am not sure what else? I don’t think our current system is good or healthy at all (my opinion — you may take it or leave it).

My opinion comes from my brother's death, from other people I have known that had much the same happen, from my own studies which I just found to be WRONG, and on and on.

There are also many actual professionals who might agree with me.

For whatever reason, our rank and file people out there, worship at the feet of the mental health system.

But since I stood in front of the coffin of the older brother I both idolized and loved, I am not one of them.

RIP Bro. I miss you forever.

**Post script — I would appreciate because of the sensitive nature of this piece, that you simple read it, respect it and either like it or don’t. I don’t care to argue with anybody about the mental health system or any of those issues. If you disagree, you disagree and please write your own story, or read those who share your opinion. This is a story of memorial and grief, not an open forum to debate mental health.

Why has the USA become so judgemental and critical of each other?

It’s not fun. It’s not moral. It’s hurtful and it’s just NOT OK.

Why do many people who have no psychology training hardly at all, think they are mental health experts??? ( I have degrees, including advanced ones, in mental health so this just kills me!). Sometimes maybe I need to ask where people are getting their psychiatry degrees — Cracker Jack box?

Why do people stab friends in the backs, for seemingly no reason?

Why do FAMILY stab family in the back, for no particular reason?

Why are we so mean and treating each other like garbage, particularly in the USA?

What exactly is the point of that?

Whatever happened to saying “I am sorry that happened to you”?

Whatever happened to people saying, “hey that was injustice, so maybe we should all work to end injustice so nobody else gets hurt”?

While we are at, what makes us experts on another’s suffering? What makes us experts on anything, really?

Why hurt one another? Why criticize?

Maybe your neighbor isn’t kissing your rear and doing just exactly what you think they should. Well, who made you the expert on their life?

I think it would help the USA in particular to go look in our mirrors, and self evaluate more often than bash each other, traumatize each other to the point of no return.

Why do people feel superior to another?

Do you feel so superior to them? Why?

Why can’t we start being more supportive, and less critical?

Somebody said to me, “well when you start working on your own life, let me know”.

I am putting her on notice right now!

What am I doing to move on with my life?

1. I am trying to get employment. One of my major problems is MONEY — not enough of it. So, I am trying to fix that. (but my efforts are being sabotaged, so its a bit frustrating).
2. I am trying to apply for housing and get a stable place to live. (isn’t that the idea, after all?)
3. I am writing, I am self-educating, I work on foreign language fluency every single day, I work on other professional development all the time.
4. I am trying to make a better plan to “move on with my life”
5. While I am doing all that, I dodge everybody’s baseball bats and bullets that come as criticism of who I am.

You see, making a plan when you don’t have enough money is a problem. So my top priority is increasing my income. I am looking for regular employment, remote employment, employment or to figure out more creative ways of making money.

I spent a lot of time, energy and effort on this. Isn’t that what I need to do? (yes…..)

I am trying to find an area where I can live in peace and feel comfortable. Of course, why not? It is what we all want. It is what I USED TO HAVE.

I am trying to do many things all at once, because it is important to my well being and survival.

I work very very hard at this.

So what STRANGER has any right to say I am not doing anything to move forward in my life?

Is it because I am not doing WHAT SHE WANTS ME TO, to move on in my life? Well, who said she is the expert? (yep)

What makes anybody really an expert on a stranger’s life?

What makes you think YOUR WAY is my way or the best way for me? People don’t come in “one size fits all”.

Why do I write about what has happened to me and the pain and traumas of the past.

1. Because I want to expose injustice. If we expose it, we can fix it.
2. I want others to understand what is happening to other people in the USA, for their information and so they can grow as human beings in compassion for others too.
3. I have a story worth telling. What is happening to me, could even destroy me although I’m trying not to allow it to. I want the story of how that happened, to be told. I need for others to know.
4. I want to encourage us to be kinder to one another. Knowing the pain and suffering we inflict upon others, maybe we will think twice about it.
5. I am using my story to work for POSITIVE SOCIAL CHANGE.
6. I also want to try and elicit emotions such as empathy in a nation that seems to have none.

Is that good enough reason for you? I hope so, because I don’t feel I have to apology or even explain it and I don’t appreciate your criticism of something I feel is very important to do.

If you don’t like what I write, or don’t like me — I don’t care. GO find others you do.

But if you do find what has happened to me, interesting, intriguing, sad, powerful, etc or if it informs you of injustice you have not thought about……Or you just enjoy you, or maybe you relate to it — GREAT! (and thank you).

*****Oh, and one other thing: I also work very hard at only allowing POSITIVE people into my life.

Maybe you could just read my articles, put yourself in another’s shoes, and maybe we could work to make a better society where good people don’t get mauled and ripped apart?

OK?

When did “protect and serve” become “harass and traumatize”? When did our peace keepers and civil servants (as in serving the public) turn into monsters?

I would like to know. I have had a rough time trying to re-establish my life, and lately things have just gotten very mean towards me. I didn’t come here to do anything to anybody, truth be told — I just came here to live and work.

But for some reason, I guess my goal of living and working here, or else my presence or God only knows what, is offensive to some.

But the police usually aren’t the ones offended. I had a close friend who was a police officer once. I even dated him a brief time (after he had gone on to other work) and he was a friend of my brothers, later a “big brother” to me after the death of my older brother.

He was just a good friend for many years, and later once he had remarried again, we lost touch. Partly I backed off because his wife seemed to have a problem.

But we had a good friendship which I will always treasure. He talked a lot about his days on the Force. He was an amazing man with two master degrees in law enforcement, graduated from the FBI academy and I forget what else — very intelligent and experienced in life.

Because of our friendship, I had always respected police officers, first responders and highway patrol, etc.

I have even had some of them save my life, or close to it. (maybe I will tell those stories sometime because the story of HEROS deserves to be told).

Good law enforcement officers are something I do think we need. But some of them suffer burn out in time, and sometimes they aren’t the most mentally stable.

Hopefully a good police force is keeping an eye on that. Hopefully officers who are getting burned out, are given leaves, or something to help them stay stable so that they aren’t hurt and nobody else is either.

(above photo by Ali Bensoula, courtesy of pexels.com)

Good police officers are great. Mean or unstable ones need retirement or treatment or leave or something. The public doesn’t need to be victimized from their burn out. It’s also not really fair to them, and can lead to their own personal tragedy too.

I believe close assessment of Officer’s mental health is important.

I had an encounter today with a very aggressive Officer, who just came at me like a roaring locomotive!

He was hugely verbally aggressive, traumatized me (which has happened a little too much recently), and frightened me and really he threatened me too.

I have made one complaint but I intend to make one in writing. I intend to suggest his mental health needs to be checked.

One reason I say that is that he was blaming me and accusing me of things that never happened, things I never said to him, etc.

What is also a bit off the wall, is that he acted like he knew me well, but we had just met. We met briefly the day before, but nothing significant.

So this man did not know much at all about me. He certainly did not know my family or my history. He had no right to ask very personal questions which I did not feel were ok to discuss with him.

Plus he was very very verbally aggressive.

More than that, I tried to reason with him, and he was off the wall. He kept verbally “coming at me and coming at me” — I was getting traumatized and very frightened.

Usually, Officers are quite decent with me but I have had a few of them who have gone crackers and just verbally scare me to death.

He also threatened me really. He let me know he would harass me in town when he could. This was NOT appreciated.

I had actually been reaching out for help in that town, that I had not been able to get in a larger, nearby city. I was making progress on my situation, which is what I needed to do.

I had met several very nice people. Some of the people really wanted to see me do better.

I think even the city overall might have mostly been for me.

I don’t get that very often, for whatever unknown crazy reason, and it had been helping me.

I had stayed at a hotel there where the staff were friendly and kind. After I stayed there a while, I think it becomes very obvious I mean no harm, do no harm and I’m just trying to get better and work on improving my life.

I may write another story if I can about a couple of other horrible police encounters I have had.

But interspersed between those horror stories, I have stories of Officers who sacrificed to help me, made sure I was ok, and even saved my life or kept me safe.

But a few bad apples…..actually it only takes one bad apple.

(above photo by Jasole via pexels.com)

Back to the terrible encounter, this Police Officer came at me like a roaring locomotive. I felt assaulted by his words, his accusations (mostly were a little nuts), his lies about me, etc.

It was like being bludgeoned with words — like being beaten over the head with a baseball bat, with his words and his tone of voice and the nature of his blame, accusations, and uncomfortable questioning.

It also felt very very UNSAFE.

I tried to say “do you think this berating me and asking me questions to make me feel very uncomfortable and unsafe, are really helpful”?

But he was just on a roll, and a little insane one at that.

I could not reason with him, talk with him, and I was feeling very very attacked. (This is how bad things happen, too).

Why did he come? I called him to come to ASSIST me? Did he assist me?

Not at all, but he traumatized me and made me feel attacked and hugely unsafe very well.

There was something else chilling about the encounter too.

He sounded like this horrible cruel Troll I had had online and have to block and get rid of from time to time. This Troll said untrue things about me and even used my Youtube videos to post them elsewhere and tell all manner of lies about me, plus even release some private information about me — and where did he/she get that?

The troll seems very “techy” and also has access to some sensitive information about me.

Was I talking with my Troll?

I have no way of knowing, but he came at me just like that. It was chilling and VERY CREEPY.

I told him to go then (I had called him to come after all) if all he could do was insult and hurt me. This just made him worse and worse. I even tried calling 911 on him. They hung up on me.

However, I needed 911 because I have very high blood pressure and a bad heart and I wasn’t so sure I was going to be ok.

I asked him to leave many times, I finally started yelling it at him. I was coming apart!

He then went over to the hotel front desk. I was checking out anyway, but had been given a Noon check out so I could make some calls, talk to the officer, etc, because my mail had been opened and sabotaged (the original problem).

He starts filling the very nice front desk agent who had been nothing but friendly and good to me, with all kinds of crap and baloney.

I was so angry! So upset!

I went to my room. I had little time until check out and the Officer had threatened me if I did not check out precisely at noon.

Of course I have no car. Of course I had no place to go. Of course I felt like I was going to pass out!

After the encounter, I just lost it. I cried and sobbed. I just felt so attacked!

Plus I worried that Officer would get to all the people I liked and had been so kind to me, and poison all them against me.

I just felt like disaster had visited me once again!

I had a hard time calming down, plus I really rushed with packing, don’t know if I lost anything, don’t know where anything is.

I couldn’t think — I couldn’t breathe. I had thought the town was nice, the people had warmed my heart.

So this is my experience: Loved one minute, murdered the next. Don’tlaugh — it’s real. One minute I feel like things are getting better, then next people who were nice are just stabbing me in the back.

Now — how you might ask, did a nice Teacher from the Western USA, turn into somebody to be bashed and abused and threatened?

The answer: I don’t really know. I don’t really know.

But I do know the more I am bashed, threatened, lied to, coerced, forced, accused, abused, etc, the worse my health is, and the more traumatized I am and the more I DO NOT TRUST ANYBODY.

Have we forgotten that all people are human beings?

Why do we think that some people we can kick around any way we want?

Tonight, I am at a truck stop. I am still not well from today’s encounter.

I felt so frightened and unsafe from that encounter, that I asked somebody I knew to please drive me somewhere else.

I don’t feel safe in the “somewhere else” either. I feel sick and I am aching in my neck and body.

I have a bad heart — yep I do.

(photo by Pavel Danilyuk, via pexels.com)

I had cancer years ago, and had chemotherapy. They did a good job, thankfully, and I have now been in remission 24 years.

However, even the best chemo and treatment can cause issues and my heart was damaged. Now I take medicine for it, and I have had 4 or 5 mild heart attacks (I forgot how many).

I especially have issues when people are so aggressive with me.

So tonight, I really don’t feel well. I am still shaking hours later, miles later from the encounter.

And I have SO MUCH pain in my neck and shoulders. I hope I will be ok.

I don’t feel ok, to be honest.

Here is the issue:

I am just a Retired Teacher. I used to be a very good Teacher and musician and linguist on the side. I still do music but right now can only do vocal. I still practice my languages, but right now I feel I am running for my life!

Why? Well, I don’t know — that’s a good question.

It is because while there were very good people in that town, there were many not very good ones too. A few others bothered me from other places too.

A lot of people refused me help and I thought it was on purpose, to force me into dealing with people who were threatening to me.

I was getting freaked out and upset.

It is bad enough when you had a good life, and then PEOPLE, your fellow human beings, cut you down, bring you down, scare you, frighten you, put you in dangerous situations, hurt you so badly that your life slips away.

That is bad enough and it is pretty bad.

Then our Police Officers who are there to “protect and serve” and keep the law, and keep us safe and well — should not make somebody’s health and life 300 times worse than it already was.

Couldn’t our Law Enforcement Officers work to make us safer? Instead of the opposite?

I left the area today. I am quite a few hours and miles away from there.

I have not gotten his berating accusations and verbal aggression out of my head yet. I have not stopped shaking.

Why did this have to happen?

Is there a Police Officer who is himself unraveling, out there?

People ask what is wrong in my life? THIS — THIS IS WRONG IN MY LIFE.

I heard there was a new psychological diagnosis and it was “Trump Derangement Syndrome” and I thought “oh no! are you kidding me?”

No, they aren’t kidding me. I guess it is for those who are obsessed with Trump or else super paranoid about him — something like that.

I did not investigate it, because I did not want to.

The Trump administration has done so much damage to the USA, and also so much personal damage to my life (which I was just beginning to get back together a bit before the elections), that I am not deranged about him, I am EXHAUSTED of absolutely everything about him.

Anybody else? He just wears me out!

I am so tired of everything about him — all the awful wars, many changes he made in what is an “official” address that has been threatening and difficult in my own life, to changes in social security and benefits, to employment changes, to every weird thing he says and does, and I could go on and on and on — couldn’t we all?

I did have a job for a while, and it wasn’t one that worked out for me. While doing my online onboarding for that job, I saw there was a DEI video, but it was not one that I was required to view.

I began to play it anyway, and my General Manager was in the room with me. I saw him sit up and bristle. I quickly turned it off, not wanting to lose the job as fast as I had landed it.

But then it impacted me that that training video was removed. That also meant that Diversity, Equality and Inclusion (what DEI stands for), was also removed. To me, that is a crime.

I got really tired of every weird off the wall thing Trump says and does.

I am really tired of Trump stirring up hate in our country, when we really need the opposite.

Stop bad mouthing Muslims — I love Muslims. Stop bad mouthing the Chinese — I love Chinese people. Stop demonizing and bad mouthing Blacks — I love Blacks. Stop trashing women — Well, I am one!

I am also very aware that if our country doesn’t get along better, we may not last as a country. I happen to love the “real” USA, what it was founded to be and I did think at one time we were headed in the “correct” direction and not the wrong one.

I also hate that I almost wrote, “in the right direction” but changed to “correct” instead of “right” because “right” has double entendre now, and not in a good way.

I also hate all the struggling people — I am fully aware I am not the only one. I hate that older people have been demonized and are being pushed out of society, I hate racism, fascism…..and at the end of the day, “I HATE HATE”. (I still haven’t figured out if I can do that or not?).

I also live in Minnesota, so do I hate the presence of ICE here, and the deaths/murders which happened? Oh yes, more than you can know. I don’t think anything has frightened and saddened me more.

I hate the division the Trump administration has incited.

I hate him renaming things. I hate him tearing up the People’s House — the White House, which has such sacred meaning to our country and it’s people. Never mind, too, about the reflecting pool. Oh and remember the Kennedy Center?

I hate that our current President is a womanizer and that he wants to reduce women’s rights (I really horribly hate that!).

I hate that some days he makes me feel trapped and abused by my own country.

I hate that he didn’t make America great at all, he tore it up.

I REALLY hate that he uses fear to control us all.

So….that’s a lot of hate and I don’t need to be hating anything.

I decided that this was a negativity I did not need in my own life. I stopped watching him. I stopped reading about him (except a little on here), I stopped watching videos about him and most of the time, I end up saying “I just don’t want to hear it anymore”.

Was that the effect he was trying to have on the nation?

So I am trying not to hate all the hate, but to go on with my life which is much more complicated now since he was elected, and I most decidedly have “Trump Exhaustion Syndrome”.

Put that in your DSM VI or IX or whatever number they are on now (they likely did).

It is my theory that some people are just born to the wrong family, at the wrong time and the wrong place. Why? I don’t feel I can explain that. But I just think it is so.

I have literally traveled the entire USA, in search of where I fit. After trying this for quite a few years, I have concluded that I honestly don’t fit much of anywhere.

However, there are ways I can make myself fit, if I can make some adjustments to get my own needs met. The key is to live where you can make your own fit.

I was born into a late 1950’s nuclear family: members of my family at the time of my birth were my Mom, my Dad, my older brother and myself.

I never felt like I fit into this family. I think that was the case since I was very young. I just wasn’t like them. They thought I was like them, because I kept a lot of the differences to myself.

But in years to come, as you grow into adulthood, you want to find your own voice, your own path, and your own way. Maybe a person really does not wish to keep hiding, but to find acceptance of who they are, as they are.

Relationships are important, but some people pull back from them. I have been a very social person in my life, but now I often pull away to myself, because it gives me peace. People often try to make me who they want me to be, and don’t accept and work with me on who I really want and need to be.

This always baffled me. I am not a crazy person. I don’t harm others at all — quite the opposite. I worked in the helping skills and my university degrees are in helping skills, because I genuinely wanted to help others.

I also have helped others. I went into Education late in life but I very quickly found my vocation! I never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. But Teaching was it! In that role, I had the unique opportunity to encourage young minds in a good manner, however fleeting it was, it can still make a profound impact.

I come from very intelligent and creative people. I’ve always thought it was the creative side that leads you to want to try a place where you can create freely, and the intelligent side leads you to have curiosity of other peoples and places.

Or else it was just my Dad who gave me a World Atlas as a gift when I was young (I blame it on him, ha).

I was born to a poor family. Sometimes people born to poor families really need to have a good education, learn musical instruments, and do all the things a privileged family might be able to give them.

Yet in poverty, they must struggle to find a way to make that happen.

I was born to a family with a very limiting religious viewpoint. As it turns out, I am still unsettled in my religious belief, and really want to experiment with other faiths and communities.

My family did not travel often. I adore travel and have always wondered what is “over there” and how “those people” think, believe, perceive the world, what their traditions are, etc.

My siblings loved TV. I hate it. My siblings like science fiction — I am not a fan (except the original Star Trek).

The one uniting common thread in my family, is that there is not one uniting common thread. Well, there is with my other siblings — just not with me. Hmmm.

I have thought about this often, and I thought, “People just aren’t born in the right times and places sometimes”.

Can I explain why? No, not really. Do I have degrees in Psychology? Yes I do, but I don’t think that gives me all the answers either.

I have actually seen this occur many times. “Fitting in” is simply overrated.

I think the most loving thing any family can do, is allow a person to go find what they need in life. It isn’t the easiest thing to do, but I think it is the most loving.

It’s horrible to be kept in a box. That’s what people do who limit you, or try to prevent you from new challenges.

Many animals need to run free — so do many humans.

I think the “being in the wrong place” feeling is not a personal problem or failure. I don’t think it is psychopathology either.

Rather it comes from a different “internal wiring” that some people have. Some people, especially very creative people, are just wired in a more sensitive manner. It doessn’t make them “better” than anybody, it just makes them “different”.

All my life I have been told, “You are different, but in a good way”. I think that is other people trying to define the same sense that I feel.

Highly sensitive/creative people notice things — patterns, colors, textures, and also other people’s interactions. Some things may be overloading for them — such as raised voices, maybe even sarcastic voices. I think sensitive people can have different triggers which bother them, so some things may not bother them, but some others do.

For instance, a highly sensitive person might enjoy the vibrancy and rat race of a city, but they may also need a quiet place to retreat to as their home.

Many creative people need solitude to refresh them after the world has overloaded them for a day. It’s not weird. It’s not crazy. It is just what that person needs.

(above picture created by author)

Also, sometimes a sensitive/creative person’s values may not match society around them. When this happens, they may have a strong need to find a place where they can function better.

If creative/sensitive people are forced to be like everybody around them, it is taxing and exhausting to them. It just wears them out, and their resources then become low. It can lead to depression or illness or very high anxiety.

In a world as diverse as ours is, and as cruel as ours can be, I wish there was more support for people to live as they need to. If a person needs solitude, then couldn’t we be more supportive to somehow help people find living situations that they need? (Or employ them adequately so they can find it for themselves?)

Acceptance of people as they are, is quite a profound thing. It can lead to people experiencing “wholeness” and “health”.

Face it, we are not all the same. Thank goodness that’s true, because if we were, wouldn’t you be bored out of your mind? (Sometimes I am anyway, but I love diversity).

Some People are just Born in the Wrong Place, the Wrong Time, to the Wrong Family….. was originally published in RISE &WRITE on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

The last few days, I have been navigating my 2nd most difficult situation in Minnesota. That is also not to say I have not had others almost as bad.

I no longer have a vehicle. When I came to Minnesota at the end of 2025, I had a car that was old, and I’d had it a few years. Granted, it was nearing the end of it’s life and had served me very well.

Actually, when I came to Minnesota in 2025 I also had been accepted into an apartment as well. I came thoroughly prepared. The accident took care of it all. Human meanness and discrimination took care of the rest.

I moved from an apartment in Iowa to (supposedly) an apartment in Minnesota. So no I don't roll this way all the time, but PEOPLE have sometimes made it so, especially in the Midwest USA.

I have personally had many vehicles in my life. I started out with a powder blue Ford Pinto with a racing stripe, when I was younger. I thought that car was SO COOL.

That car was also an old stick shift and I adored the stick shifts. I learned how to drive late in my life, when I went to college, a friend of mine there said, well, you really need to learn to drive, and she taught me on her stick shift.

Once you go stick shift, you never go back!

Well, now you don’t go stick shift, because I am not sure if they are even still around or not? But when they were, I adored them, not to mention they were great on gas mileage too.

That Ford Pinto was, however, involved in an accident, which is only one of 3 accidents I have had in my life. I was rear ended in that. I had heard that Ford Pinto’s which were read ended, exploded or caught on fire.

No, mine was just an accordion from then on. I drove it still for a long time, and later sold it, and that person drove it some more, even “accordioned” style. (They don’t make the cars like that anymore).

As the years progressed, I married. I married badly, but the one thing we did have was money. No real love and devotion included, just money. I guess it was something. It wasn’t enough to sustain a life long marriage though, but the marriage lasted 20 years, and I could simply do no more.

During our marriage, we bought and sold many vehicles. We were middle class, so I was always driving my own vehicle. We had his/hers SUV’s in the end of the marriage, in the mountains of Colorado.

When I was divorced, I was driving an SUV (the type escapes me), and drove it for quite some time following the divorce.

After I was a classroom Teacher in Colorado for a couple of years, I traded in the SUV on a snazzy Fiesta that I really loved.

That Fiesta got me around a long time, then I had my 2nd major accident and it was in pieces all over! I was very fatigued that day and I was in Kansas. Kansas really likes what they call “courtesy corners”, only the one I was at wasn’t very courteous to me (or the other driver).

I thought the other driver had the stop sign. The other driver thought I had the stop sign. The reality was NOBODY had a stop sign, and so NOBODY stopped and there was a big collision! My vehicle was totalled, but that was also a blessing in disguise.

I was making payments on the car, and with the slightest deviation at all on the payments, the bank was harassing me about it. I had become very nervous about losing the car.

So when the accident happened, as bad it was, insurance paid off the car and Wells Fargo got off my back (forever, because I would never trust them again in 300,000 years — I was also a victim of their scams several years ago other than the car).

I was carless for the first time in my driving career, then. It was very traumatic and hard. It even led to me being abused and even assaulted once: (another story, another day).

It is limiting and difficult to not have a vehicle.

I was able to get another vehicle because of some friends I met and stayed with for a while in Wichita, Kansas. I ended up living there in an apartment for a while, but there was so much meth activity there, that I had some scary things happening at my own home, and I finally left Kansas.

My friends in Kansas (who were a huge blessing to me), helped me find an apartment (which I lived in for close to a year) and they also were about to get a new vehicle for themselves. They had a jeep but it had some transmission issues and they were about to trade it in.

They made a decision to sell it to me for a low cost. I then drove that jeep, transmission issues and all for about 4 -5 years more.

Well, you just had to baby it a little!

Bringing me to the Present Day

The Jeep gave up the ghost back in Colorado. I thought I was “done for” and this would be another story to write (and I should write it sometime), but some very kind and good people found a donated car for me, fixed it up and I went to Utah, and lived and worked there a while.

When the work was done on the donated car, the wonderful people who had done the work, handed it over to me with all the paperwork. I was SO excited.

So then I asked them, “Will it go through the mountains?”

They replied, “We think so”, and I let know it was about to have a test. It could indeed go through the mountains of Southern Colorado through the backroads and dropping down again onto I 70, and then heading west to Utah.

It was 2020, Pandemic time. At the end of that year when this occurred, I wasn’t able to get work any longer, and Colorado was denying me any aid so how was I supposed to live?

That car getting me to Utah, was a life saver. I have asked God’s blessing on the people who donated that car to me 3 million times. I’ll never forget the blessing it was to me.

The donated vehicle was then the same vehicle that I just lost in the head on collision last year, 2025, in Minnesota.

That brings us to today, when I have to take Ubers and buses. I have to catch a bus at 10 am today (and it is 8:27 am as I write this). They are taking me to “wherever” and from “wherever” I will make another plan.

After my head on collision my second week in Minnesota, I have been without a vehicle now for about a year.

It has impacted me very negatively in my life.

I still have a valid license. I just have no vehicle.

So I have had buses, and decent friends, and kind police officers. But much of that kindness has been strained and limited too after our last elections.

Our last elections has greatly cost me in my life. Guess who I don’t vote for?

This brings me to today, and I have to pack a few things and meet a bus at 10 am, so I need to hurry to end this story.

The story, however, does not end here. Where does it end? I guess only God knows, but I can tell you life has been a little too difficult, since losing my Teaching job and especially since coming to Minnesota.