Twice in my life I have been without a home. This letter focuses on the first time. I may write more at a later point about my experiences while pregnant at age 23. But for now…
In my youth, I was without a home.
On March 5th of this year my Oma first fell, hitting a wall and injuring her tailbone. At first she declined care, or medical evaluation. The woman is tough as nails as they say. As she began to decline, my family and I worked together to aid her to hopefully regain her strength, For a few weeks, she healed at home with additional services integrated via the Local Health Integration Network. They were amazing. She was not getting better, and instead continued to quickly decline.
This morning I woke early, before anyone else in my home, to prepare for my day. The first thing on my agenda being different from my norm, I felt I needed a little more prep then the "shoes on, out the door" of some typical mornings.
I refuse to label, nor be labelled, solely by mental health conditions. We are more than just that piece of our experience
As was my Father.
Now I jump backwards....
Why we need to talk openly?
There are so many facets of our community that can best be addressed through communal discussion . To best initiate resolving barriers individuals face, I feel we need to begin frank, yet respectful discussion, in hopes of gaining better insight into the various perspectives that shape our community.