The Cure for Anything

I always thought that the Police song, Every Breath You Take was creepy.  When I look at the lyrics now, it’s amazing to me that it won song of the year in 1983.   I mean, did Sting sit down and think to himself, “Hey, why don’t I write a song about a stalker?  Yeah, smashing idea!”?

Every breath you take
Every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take
I’ll be watching you.

Every single day
Every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay
I’ll be watching you.

Oh can’t you see
You belong to me?
How my poor heart aches with every step you take.

Every move you make
Every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake
I’ll be watching you.

The above quote is humorous, but it’s also true. I don’t intend to make fun of the mentally ill, because I think we have a serious problem in this country with how we deal with mental illness.  There is such a stigma about it and we don’t have the conversations that need to be had so many, many people go untreated.  Unfortunately, many of those people end up harming themselves and others. 

Most of you reading this private blog know about what I went through two years ago.  Apparently, restraining orders expire.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t notified.  I guess because Indi@napolis is on its way to becoming murder capital of the United States, they have bigger fish to fry.  However, my stalker/attacker was aware that the restraining order expired and decided to move in one street over from me last week.  This morning I found a note on my patio table that went something like “I see you spend many evenings by yourself, so I thought you’d enjoy coming over for dinner or a glass of wine sometime.”  WTF?  Seriously, WTF?  I wasn’t scared when I read it, I was angry.  Really, really pissed off.  I know anger isn’t healthy to hold on to, and I don’t, but I feel that it was warranted in this instance.  I went to the gym to work out my anger and frustration, and also to clear my head so I could think.  I felt better when I got done, but I’m going to sore as hell tomorrow.  I was able to make some phone calls and inform those who need to know what’s going on.  I also did some research on getting a new restraining order.  Fun times, I tell you.  As my mother always says, this too shall pass.  I’m not angry, I’m proactive now.  Also, I am tough as hell.

This is what is wrong with our mental health/legal system: someone who has been diagnosed with Bipolar I (the raging type) and has been declared disabled by the government due to aforementioned Bipolar I is allowed to get a plea bargain on a violent crime.  Originally charged with three misdemeanor counts of various assault and battery and one felony count of strangulation; plead down to drop the felony.  I was not agreeable to that plea bargain, but it was the state that brought the charges, so I didn’t have a say.  Therefore, she only served 5 days in jail, 1 year probation, and 9 court ordered “anger management” sessions with a psychologist.  What, exactly, did they think that 9 anger management sessions were going to do for someone that disturbed?

I am an educated and upper middle class person, and I found the entire system both difficult to navigate and terribly frustrating.  I worry about people (mostly women) who don’t have the background or the resources to get the help that they need.  I want to do something about that.

If you do comment on this post, please be mindful and not use any names or other identifying information.  I am also cyber-stalked and that is why I don’t write much on my other blog.  You can feel free to email me or send me a private message on Facebook.  I have considered making this post password protected, but really don’t want to do that unless it becomes necessary.