Broken People - The New Depression

Many of us know people (some really close) currently going thru a time of emotional damage in their lives. Or perhaps, you have personally been through a divorce, the loss of a loved one, or in an abusive relationship. Yet, we stay out of the way, finding feeble words to suffice for our fear of action in a time of need. We have the compassion to help, but don't feel adequate or fear involvement. The end of the matter is apparent, we talk to, work with, mix with or live with broken people.

Its easy to hide behind a smile (however so uneasy) or to give the usual words of encouragement and tell someone how ‘strong’ they are and how you admire the way they live their lives when we don’t know a damn thing about them or their lives. I again, go to the deep end of existence and step through the façade of class and the illusion of status and happiness to get to what’s really there…pain, suffering, loneliness, anger, shame and grief.

So you ask where is this going and why is this in a blog about drunks, drinkers, barfly’s, lowlifes and other persons who frequent the local drinking establishment? Its because of an incident I saw at a local bar that wounded my heart so I took a long walk so I would not be seen crying in front of other bar stool sitters. I got control of myself and offered what little help I could, but it was help that did change a life.

As I sat in a fine neighborhood drinking establishment in Baldwin on a late Friday afternoon, a Soldier, a Major in her mid 50’s showed up in the Army green uniform and ordered a drink. The bartender inquired where she was off to, an easy smile came over her weathered face, she said “my last required duty.” She had a thick flat book with her and another beer guzzling patron asked her what it was and she said “a photo album.”

After the Major had a few she showed off pictures of her wartime duty in Iraq as a nurse, the people she served with and the Soldiers, Airmen and Marines she helped save. She showed some pictures of her kids and her dog. She then received a call on her cell phone paid up the tab and was heading for the door. She seemed happy, almost relieved, then two more soldiers walked in the bar. The Major’s mood changed radically.

One was a Chaplain, the other a Master Sergeant, both most respectfully asked the Major to go with them. She ordered them out of her presence and said they would wait outside. The Major sat back down at the bar. The beautiful middle aged bartender, her dazzling features and her dark blue vest revealing much cleavage went to the Major and asked if all was alright. The Major said she will be when she gets where she’s going.

Another Soldier walked in with the tell tale ‘eagles’ on his collar, the Colonel obviously came to collect his Major. The Colonel, a tall white haired hard charger with movie star looks, sat down beside her and ordered a drink. “Could ya’ll excuse us as we take up this end of the bar?” It was amazing how even the assholes in the bar quietly granted the Colonels request as we all shifted toward the door, leaving the soldiers to talk.

As I drank we all could not but hear the discourse. The Major, she had lost her house in Lindenhurst, it was foreclosed on, her son was in critical condition (motorcycle accident) at Good Samaritan Hospital in West Islip, her daughters left her to live with their grandmother, her husband had been killed in Afghanistan about a year ago, he was a command officer with SOCOM, (Ranger). The Major had only her little dog, which she spent her last money on at the Veterinarian.

The Major had her dog in her car, which she lived out of when she could not get a place on base. She was going to leave the dog with her best friend and effect her last required duty. I was impressed with her right away, she was a natural attention getter even in her mid 50’s. The Colonel spoke in a low whisper, the Major, she did not.

“I refuse to go with you anywhere, nobody helped me in Iraq, no one helped me here when I asked for help and no one is going to help me when I leave here. I’m not going back to base, I’m not going to a unit review, I’m not going to let you take my dignity…I will go my way quietly with honor…I earned that.” “I will be back in here with the Chaplain and we will walk you to your car Major.” “Your not walking me anywhere Colonel.”

The Colonel got up quickly and backed away from her, as he turned around toward the door I saw the butt of a small automatic disappear into a small hand bag the Major held to. The Major asked the bartender if there was another way out of the bar. The bartender pointed to the back and gave instructions, as the Major got up she dropped the photo album and a picture fell out, the Major picked it up, put it in the album, started walking toward the door and collapsed.

We all quickly surrounded her and called an ambulance as the Colonel, the Master Sergeant and the Chaplain came in. When the Major came to she said she was O.K. and had to go. The bartender asked ‘where’ the Major said, “to be with my husband.” She was going to kill herself. The stress of having her life go to hell and then having pulled a gun on a Flag Officer overcame her.

I gave the Major a card to the DAV (Disabled American Veterans) and contacted a person I knew who was a County Liaison to the VA. At the objection of the Colonel, she was taken to the VA. Under a whole set of new laws, the Major will have rights at the VA the Army cannot step on. This powerfully impressive woman, who looked alright, could walk and chew gum at the same time, who could lead people, was a broken person.

This is one story about a woman who just happened to be in the service. As I walked around the corner with tears in my eyes I thought of the other broken people, those who sit on the edge, who are a heartbeat away from loosing a house, loosing a loved one, loosing a job, loosing a friend, and/or loosing the will to live. I thought about those hurting, about those drowning themselves in their cocktails. I knew the demons she was loosing to.

You may ask, what do you mean by ‘a broken person’. A person who is so overwhelmed, overcome or stunned, “they cannot will themselves into a positive frame of mind or actively suppress or hide the fact they cannot overcome a life changing trauma”. (paraphrasing Dr.Yeates Conwell, a professor of psychiatry at the University of Rochester Medical Center.) Many people are walking around among us ‘broken people’ and are only a trigger event away from disaster.

Sure, all of us are going through something in life but many of us do not have people who support or help, there may be no treatment or medical attention for someone who may need it. Some people have the resources to recognize ‘something is wrong’ and do something about it right away. Many people, mostly men deny anything is wrong with them even though everyone in their lives see them going to pieces.

Some broken people know something is wrong with them but work hard to put up a façade to hide it, they look good, they talk good, they walk good but feel and think really bad things. Who are these ‘broken people;’ The Major who lost everything, the Police Lieutenant who is thinking of killing himself, the high school kid with self-esteem problems, the Corporate Executive who has to fire his long time subordinates, the Bank VP who is closing her branch office and maybe you.

Usually one more event, sometimes something major, like divorce, like major illness or catastrophe will push a broken person into destroying someone or themselves. Sometimes it’s a very minor event that does it, a kid being called a faggot by the school bully, your boss shouting at you, your kid sucking his teeth in defiance after being told what to do, something triggers broken people to do horrible things…to step over the edge.

People forget history, the last time the Nation was in this condition its in now, businessmen jumped off buildings and farmers started robbing banks. Common people walked around dazed and stunned looking for work or something to eat, they had lost their homes, jobs and some even lost their families. I remember the stories my Dad, Grandfather, and Uncle’s told about the 30’s and how they had to pull together to survive.

History has repeated itself. Even the Secretary of the Treasury (a multi-millionaire) got down on his knees to the Speaker of the House of Representatives, begging her not to tell the world that “Bail Out” talks were in the toilet. Rich, poor, black, white, male, female, old, young, leader, follower, wise one or fool…anyone can be functioning ‘damaged’ in our society. We need to recognize it and offer to give what little help we can, even if its only advise where to get help.

Choose to give up your barstool, just don’t give up on this life. Trust me, it could be worse.

Falling Out Of The Life

Church is the first refuge for families and persons who share a common culture. There is so much to insulate yourself and loved ones from, like “the world” and then create a microcosm that is in essence no more than a cocoon. In this ‘cocoon’ we nest, nurture and nourish our children, lovers, parents or partners. And we become at once part of the whole of society and the whole embodiment of that society.

Some people suffer so much, be it pain from the death or deaths of friends and loved ones or the scars from broken bodies or wounded spirits that won’t heal. Be it judgment from the so called ‘Christians’ in the Church or the emptiness of pursuing fast or fake relationships in bars, or hanging on to people who pull you down instead of lift you up, some of us fall out of ‘the life’.

Many people straddle worlds, cultures and societies. They go to Church on Sunday, but do that which satisfies their darkest nature during the rest of the week. Be it pursuing sex, drugs, companionship or a place to hide, we create ‘the life’ we choose to be a part of. Then something happens. The world you choose to be a part of changes or you change the world you choose to be a part of.

This can happen for a number of reasons. Death is number one on the list, finding out your going to die is number two. Realizing your existence with those ‘people’ have left you angry, empty, hurting or confused runs a close third. Realizing your ‘Christian’ family sees you as less than they are and that you see them as hypocritical as the Popes of the Middle Ages is also in the top ten reasons you choose to fall out of ‘the life’.

Be it the Church, the Bar, the Boat, the Rotary Club, the VFW, or any other organization you choose to seek refuge in as a member who contributes to that society or culture, we do so in the hope that we ‘fit’ or can be a part of something we feel totally comfortable in and accepted totally for who we are. It all works out well until something in our world changes or something in us changes.

The half moon hangs high in the late summer twilight as I have taken a long walk in the night looking out on the Hudson River shimmering under the top half of a summer moon on a starry night. I have not seen people I spoke to last year, I have not seen people I have spoke to last month, even worse, I have not heard from people that have been part of my life and I cared for since I came back to New York.

Death has claimed some, pain has claimed many, shame has hidden others. As I have traveled, worked, healed and persevered I have seen changes in people that I shared ‘the life’ with. It’s a hell of a thing to be disconnected from folks who at one time called you a friend. Even worse, to loose someone that called you ‘lover’. So it goes and life continues and we continue in life until there is nothing or everything to live for.

I reflect this way because this ‘life’, this bar culture revolves around the same things that it did about 230 years ago. Some guy wrote it out in a document, “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” I bring this to your attention because we so easily let people slip into and out of our lives without much thought. We choose to forget them we do not see and when we get with ‘the crowd’ we ask, what happened too….

Before the harvest comes in, before the election of the next President, contact someone you haven’t seen in a long while. Check on those who are old, call those who live alone, say something kind to someone who only hears cruelty. Before Octoberfest, find someone you haven’t seen and let them know your thinking about them.

If at all possible, see them in person. Sometime e-mail just doesn’t cut it. Sometimes an old fashioned letter will do the job too. Mend fences, let go of your bitterness, and fear not to love. In a world where the commonly used four letter word begins with “f”, love can provoke apprehension and fear in those who feel they do not have the capacity to love. If you have ever been human, you can love.

Time is passing quickly, waste none of it.

Strange Happenings

“So Zach, how much money did my investments loose due to the Stock Market correcting itself with the richest and brightest boys on the block going bankrupt?” “Actually your in better shape than most RJ, your insight has saved you much grief, you’ve only lost about 4 percent of the value of your investments,” said Zach as he pecked away on his keyboard. “And I’m supposed to feel good about that?” Zach eased back in his chair and said, “Hell yeah.”

“RJ, all investments that have been tied to mutual funds, mortgages, banks, or insurance companies have taken a severe beating. Most investors have taken a financial blood bath. Since you took direct control of your retirement fund your wisdom in choosing to stay away from investments that don’t relate to everyday life has saved you considerably. Your investments in brewery’s, distilleries, pharmaceuticals, solar and agri-business has panned out pretty good.”

I got off the phone with Zach and thought to myself about small businesses and how they must be on the verge of going belly up in this ass fucked economy. The oldest and most prestigious Wall Street firms have disappeared overnight. Lehman Bros, Merryl Lynch, Bear Stearns had to be bailed out, IndyMac Bank failed, Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac bailed out by the FED and AIG with a Trillion (not billion), a Trillion dollars in assets had to be bailed out by the Government with our tax money essentially nationalizing AIG. That’s a fucked economy.

Thinking about small businesses in a fucked up America, I thought about the “Lounge” and Mr. E. and if he ever reopened the doors. I checked my e-mail and behold, Ruby has resurfaced at long last. I called Ruby to see how she is doing in light of life’s setbacks. So I asked about the “Lounge” and how things were going and she filled me in on what’s going on.

“Yeah RJ, I finally have my own computer. I'm out of that residence and I'll tell you the whole story if and when I see you. I am still at the Lounge but now I'm working M-F 12 to 7.” I asked about the renovations to the “Lounge”. Ruby said, “Mr E. tried to make some improvements which I think you'll like but that was the reason for the bar being closed for a week. I have seen Cary since then and I hope he told you that we are now open but still renovating.”

“Still renovating? He had a week. I guess all the empty beer bottles Cary saw is indicative of how much work got done huh Ruby?” “I'm guessing it costs a lot of money to fix a dump up, actually I know it does, but you will be happy to know that all the taps are working and at the correct temperature, the cooler under the register is cold as hell and we have Bud, Rolling Rock, Yuengling (whatever), Coors Light, Guiness all on tap and the kegs are all new.”

Ruby also said, “I moved out of my old house and am living with friends now. I don't have, however, my author password to post stuff so I'm lost. I did comment on your last entry (anonymously) but it was never put on the blog comments.” Don’t worry about it S.D. made changes so things are much easier to post. I also told Ruby in the interim to send me her articles and I will post them for her.

Ruby also said that she has been very busy since Mr. E. reopened the “Lounge”. Ruby told me the days are getting like “old times” but the nights are “a little scary.” (Ruby didn’t get into detail but I know from my own sources who live in the neighborhood the 4th Precinct has been visiting out of necessity) Apparently the “Lounge” has attracted a different crowd at night. I told Ruby I will get by to see her now that the doors are open and the beer is cold.

I’ve heard a lot of things recently about the “Lounge” but I am astonished that the infrastructure of the bar is so that beer is constantly cold and the taps work flawlessly (a big improvement from the last owner). In a world going bad and strange happenings in government and Wall Street, soon the best you’ll be able to do is celebrate with a drink if you have a job or drown yourself in some beer if things are bad.

If your in the neighborhood during the day, stop on by to visit Ruby. I will eventually.

What Happened?

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