Funeral March

Well, the funeral turned out to be absolutely beautiful and something Daniel would have been pleased with, if this were at all even possible. Standing room only, too. It was still somewhat weird having to return to the town of our youth especially under these circumstances.

The actual service ended up lasting just over an hour. Both of his sisters got up to speak – he was the middle child – as well as his best friend from high school and also one of his nieces – in total he was uncle to five nieces and one nephew. The minister’s sermon was very fitting as she took time to address Daniel’s two decade battle with mental illness and depression, as well as talking about how he ultimately died. In fact, no one that got up to speak shied away from these normally uncomfortable subjects. To be sure, his parents opened this door originally when they stated in the newspaper’s announcement’s section how their son actually died. This was certainly a most unusual, not to mention brave move on their part. I can’t remember ever seeing something like this mentioned in any other announcement of death in a paper’s personnel’s section.

I certainly can understand their reasons behind doing this. Anyone attending his funeral would have already been familiar with the fact he was bi-polar and had been for decades. This eliminated having to respond to dozens and dozens of people asking how he died. I can just imagine how both of his parents would have dreaded this part of the whole service, but because of the type of people that they are, they would have answered each and every question without hesitation.

Jim and Daniel started high school twenty nine years ago, and except for a few of their class mates that just simply could not make it to the funeral, almost their entire class managed to show up. This fact alone speaks volumes and then some…Its unfortunate that Daniel never was able to recognize this fact. For most of his life, he felt irrelevant, or that he just simply couldn’t measure up to the rest of us. If only he could have taken a step back and actually seen what it was we all saw and recognized in him.

He was a brilliant writer and artist, as well as an excellent student and athlete. Everything came naturally for him though he may not have quite seen it that way. He was one of the best looking guys in high school who could have had any girl that he wanted, but ended up spending his years there single. He was accepted into all of the universities he applied for, and even managed to excel while studying away in a foreign city away from his friends and family.

It was during his final year at university that he was diagnosed with  manic depression – my understanding is that this is now called bi-polar – and even with this, he still managed to graduate. For about half a decade after this, he ended up in and out of institutions, so that by the time he was in his thirties, he felt as if he had really been left behind, and never recovered from this setback.

It really is all very, very tragic. His sisters read some of his most recent writings and while they were all exceptional, they certainly spoke to his current state of  mind. He was filled with far too much  pain it would seem, and nothing on this world seemed to offer him the relief he so obviously sought.

Peace, love and  happiness…

Suffer Well

Jim and I have to go to a funeral in the morning. I’ve only been to three other funerals in my entire life, which is a good thing I suppose. One of our friends from high school committed suicide four days ago. He had been suffering from depression for decades now, and I guess his wife of nine years leaving him recently was just too much for him. He had moved back in with his parents so it was his mother that found him. Even though at one point in our lives, we had all been close, we hadn’t really seen him in the past decade. Out of respect for his parents, though, we are going. Jim’s folks and his still live in the same small town we all grew up in, and they both attend the same church each and every Sunday. I hope that is suffering is over and that he has finally managed to find some peace.

The Informers

I’ve just finished watching The Informers. Its a new film written by Bret Easton Ellis based on his book of the same name which was published in 1994. The book is actually a collection of thirteen short stories, and this film has done its best to adapt these stories. It was directed by Gregor Jordan and features an ensemble cast, such as Winona Ryder, Billy Bob Thornton, Mickey Rourke, and Kim Basinger. It also was Brad Renfro’s last film before his untimely death. The film basically covers stories of seven of the film’s characters with these stories  taking place over the course of one week in 1983 Los Angeles. These stories cover the lives of movie executives, rock stars, and other morally challenged characters.

This film was by no means great, in fact, I’m not even sure if it is even good, but for a number of reasons, it ended up kicking me in the stomach.  In an instant, I was transported back to the year that I turned nineteen, 1983! This was to be a seminal year for me and my friends. This was the year that we graduated high school and were about to enter university. Our whole lives were supposedly stretched out in front of us, as in, the world was our oyster. We were invincible, or so we thought.  We dreamed of going off to uni, being away from home and anyone that knew us. We imagined that this would be our time to finally be sexually free, to be able to experiment and to be able to do this without fear of any consequences. How quickly this was all shattered and destroyed.

1983 was also a time when we had first started to hear about some mystery illness that  initially seemed to be randomly killing only gays and IV drug users. A plague of sorts. A plague that was also extremely terrifying especially since the medical community at the time appeared so utterly baffled and helpless. Uncertainty was everywhere. Once the heterosexual population started to show signs of this illness, fears escalated rapidly, as did denial. The medical community had yet to announce how this illness was spreading nor how it could be prevented from spreading.

One thing, though, that we seemed to recognize instinctively, were any thoughts of us finally being able to have indiscriminate sexual encounters would have to end if we were to remain immune. So much for us going off to university with thoughts of anonymous one night stands dancing in  our heads. Didn’t matter any more if we were on the pill as a much larger issue now existed. Not getting pregnant would be the least of our worries. The party really was over, as was our innocence.

This movies touches so many aspects of what me and my friends were going through in our own personal lives twenty six years ago. It seems eerie watching it now, almost voyeuristic. It also almost appears to be a sequel to Ellis’s book/movie Less Than Zero. The book originally was published back in 1985, with the movie of the same name coming out a couple of years later, although there were a lot of changes and departures. What may really end up being interesting will be if Ellis does indeed publish a sequel to Less Than Zero, something he has been promising for a little while now.

P.S. Speaking of the above movie, I just had to go and dig it out to watch yet again. Even though its a bit on the dated side, it still remains one of my favourites from that time period.

Suicide is Painless II

Well, we really don’t have much more info today than we had last night. The standoff with the police did eventually end peacefully approximately two and a half hours after it had started. No one was hurt, although allegedly Charley was holding his ex-girlfriend against her will with him in the garage. This is the same female that he beat beyond recognition last year, and who he was not to associate with by any form of communication imaginable as part of his sentence. Now, to be fair, it is never him who violates this order. Each and every time, it is her, and each and every time she does this, it comes to no good. Yes, she was very much the unfortunate and undeserving victim of last years assault, but otherwise she has been nothing but poison. He has changed almost beyond recognition from when we first met him six years ago, and these changes have all happened within the past two years.

To be fair, he has always struggled with mental issues. Since Sara was sixteen, over three years ago now, she has tried relentlessly to get this young man some form of medical help but so far, to no avail. His mother is in complete denial regarding his mental state of mind, even at times such as this. At one point Sara even became a patient of Charley’s family doctor in order to talk to him about her concerns. He is beyond desperate and is badly in need of professional health.

Right now, I’m kind of pressed for time so have to be brief, but I’d be remiss if I failed to mention how absolutely amazing the police were in regards to my girls last night. I had to call 911 with the correct address, and was fortunate to get the same dispatcher as Katie. While on the phone I asked if the police would be able to call us back once they had arrived at the scene and everything had been sorted out – at this point there was no hostage taking, et al! She said that normally they don’t do this but she would ask.

The girls continued to call his house. At one point the phone was answered, and he identified himself as one of the officers on the scene. He engaged in conversation with Katie and she was able to supply him with a bit of Charley’s mental history and possible current state of mind, etc. When all was said and done this particular officer ended up calling the girls back twice, and both times their conversations were fairly lengthy. He deserves to be commended as he was able to calm the girls down considerably, plus assure them that now there was a very good chance that Charley would end up receiving long needed medical attention. Patience he had in spades to be sure.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Suicide Is Painless

I was actually planning on talking about something entirely different than what I am about to talk about but even the best laid plans, etc, etc. Earlier this evening my foster daughter, Katie, and I were sitting in the living room having a bit of a chit chat. I was sitting on one of the couches while she was at the computer half heartedly surfing the net. We were’nt really talking about anything particularly heavy, just swapping humorous antidotes to pass the time. As Katie is a fairly social and popular girl, the phone pretty much rang endlessly while we talked. She’s got call display so she pretty much ignored most of the calls. I had been dying for a washroom break for a bit so finally I made the move to head towards one of our bathrooms. One of the calls she had been ignoring was from one of the girls oldest male friends.

We’re going to call him Charley. He’s now 21, but I’ve known him since he was 15 and the girls were 13. He’s always been a very sensitive and somewhat troubled young man. I never really knew how much until the past couple of years. Both my girls have been very protective of him often to there own detriment at times. By what Sara has told me as well as my own conversations with him, I suspect that he may very well be schizophrenic, and if not, then certainly mentally disturbed. He hears voices and often has black outs where he remembers nothing. Often these blackouts can cover many, many hours. He’s also done some scary and violent things while blacked out or after voices have finished talking to him. While he was still a minor my daughter begged and pleaded with his parents to get him help of any kind. So far, they’ve done nothing although I would like to think that after what is actually still occurring this evening, that they do something now.

Once I discovered the entire truth about Charley and everything that was going on around him, I was forced to limit my daughters interaction with him. It was for their own safety. Any time that they’ve been allowed to socialize with him, they’ve had to do it under our roof. Yes, I am all too aware that they now are both adults and most likely going to interact with him whether or not they’ve got my permission or not. Thank goodness though, they are both pretty mature and level headed and recognize that right now he is not a positive factor in their lives. He has just recently finished serving five weekends in jail because of what he did last year to his ex-girlfriend. During one of his blackouts, he beat her to within an inch of her life at the busiest and major downtown intersection at 10pm on a Friday evening. Finding witnesses to this beating apparently was not an issue.

Not going into the immediate fallout from this attack, but there was a lot and it still appears to be happening a year and a half later. When Katie finally did answer his call this evening, he said that he was calling to apologize for what he was about to do. He said that he couldn’t deal with the police anymore, nor could he return to jail. He couldn’t go on anymore and was ending it now. She obviously started going hysterical. I didn’t even get into the bathroom before I was back in the living room to find out what had gotten her so upset so quickly. Pretty much able to piece together what was going on from her end. He hung up as he needed to call two more people. She was convinced he was serious so we instructed her to call the police, etc. Finally after calling 911, she got him back on the phone. He was barely coherent by this point and understandably abusive on finding out what she had done – one of the others he called did exactly the same thing. I’ve never been so glad that when they were younger I had demanded the address and phone number as well as being allowed to talk to the parent’s whenever they went to a friend’s house for the first time. It made it easier providing accurate info to Emergency Services.

For about an hour and a half after she made the call she heard nothing. This was particularly distressing as during the course of their second call she had overheard him gasping for air, possibly vomiting and finally drifting away until she got no response from his end. Eventually, she reached someone at his house – one of the officers called to his residence. Currently Charley has managed to barricade himself in the garage with some sort of weapon, and most of his very residential street has been evacuated while SWAT or this city’s equivalent deals with the situation. The officer was exceptionally gentle with my daughter. They actually asked me if they could go over just in case they could help. I said absolutely, as soon as the police spoke to me with their permission. Hello? OK, I get it. They were pretty much told that they would be turned away because they couldn’t guarantee their safety, etc. The officer assured Katie that he would be looked after, and as long as the situation doesn’t escalate into anything macabre or violent, he would be taken to the hospital and placed under 72 hour observation by order of the police.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Manic Street Preachers

One of my all time favourite bands is coming to Toronto the first weekend of October of this year. Of all of the concerts that I’ve seen in my lifetime, this is one band that I’ve not yet been able to enjoy live! Until now! I just got my tickets for their show less than an hour ago. I am so excited that I am practically vibrating. I feel like a love sick teenager with my very first crush. Manic Street Preachers look out! I’ve been literally waiting to see you since 1992. I guess there is something to be said for patience after all. Much more later from me once I’ve come back down to earth…

Methadone Pretty Indeed!

The following is a reaction to a debate – somewhat heated to be sure – that I recently got into with someone who once had been one of my dearest friends. Finally after a decade and a half of a pretty hardcore opiate addiction, he decided to go on methadone and has been on it just shy of two months. Already, he is spouting the rhetoric that I hear so very often from the majority of methadone patients at the clinic that I attend, and once again, I found myself frustrated. If some of what I am about to say doesn’t make complete sense, I apologize in advance as I was on a bit of a tear when I typed most of this!

I know that Methadone Maintenance Therapy and its success/benefits can certainly be a hotly debated topic on any given day within the opiate addict community. I certainly can understand why it is something that can get both the for and against sides worked up into quite the lather. There are many times when I wish that there was at least another solution to MMT rather than cold turkey and abstinence available to me, but unfortunately, in southwestern Ontario, Canada this is pretty much all that I’ve got right now.

Quite often, the meth program in my city can be a very negative experience. The few doctors that are part of it often stress only the negative – the high recidivism rate if you were to actually complete the program or the likelihood that you would spend your entire life in treatment. There can be little to no counciling, plus often they push and push you until you are on an almost unmanageable high dose often prescribing amounts way above what was your true blocking dose.  Then they discourage you when you want to start to taper down and decrease your dose. I refused to go any higher than 95mg once I felt that I had stabilized and am now currently on a dose of 60 that I find is more than adequate.. My husband stopped increasing his at 145mg and is currently on a dose of 90. A lot of the other patients were encouraged to go on doses that were at least double our amounts. No wonder they all felt like crap most of the time, not to mention feeling rather defeated.

Never mind all of the talk of methadone’s side effects. This alone can defeat you before you’re even given a chance to get started. How is it possible to imagine a life in recovery, if you’re never given the required encouragement to attempt to even get there? I think that a lot of methadone’’s side effects are in reality urban legends. Now after spending three and a half years on it – round two for me also, as I spent almost the same amount of time on it a decade ago – I found many of the supposed possible side effects or reactions never materialized unless you literally “willed” them upon yourself. I found that those that bought into and blindly believed and accepted all the garbage that our doctors were feeding us actually developed exactly what they were told they would develop. Self-fulfilling prophecy really.

For many this became their license to not have to work or even look for work and justified their desire to eat any sweet thing that passed remotely within their line of vision and pound on those extra 70 pounds. Suddenly they felt completely justified in needing a previously unprescribed prescription for Ritalin to keep them going. While many of the people that I met while I was in treatment fell firmly into this category there were some that could just not settle into the program and found meth treatment to be an unfulfilled painful step of their recovery process. For these unfortunate few there were real and valid issues with methadone.

Yes, you definitely feel more exhausted and it is hard to focus at times. Suddenly you feel as if you have developed ADD. No doubt years of opiate abuse combined with meth’s assault on our bodies throws our metabolism right out of whack and we all seem to pacify this with an increase in our daily sugar intake. Obviously a weight gain will soon follow. But is this weight gain solely from the meth or are we no longer running ourselves into the ground constantly searching for our next hit? Once the hunt is removed we immediately become more sedentary. Combined with the fact that each and every penny is no longer being spent on illegal substances we find that for the first time in a long time we actually have a well stocked fridge and a full cupboard. We can finally get rid of that jumbo jar of peanut butter and  $.99 package of plain crackers.

With this kind of philosophy from the clinic it was no wonder that the majority of the patients felt as if they had traded one losing card for another. Had there been a little bit more positive feedback from the doctors I think that they would have seen entirely different results. I talked to so many that were also suffering from constant low level depression while in treatment. Because I felt that I was being prescribed my true stabilizing dose, once there, all cravings for opiates disappeared. Honestly

Depeche Mode | Molson Amphitheatre | 2009 07 24

Well, of course the concert was simply bloody amazing. All that I expected and ever hoped for, utterly no disappointment whatsoever! All of us had an amazing time that’s for sure. I screamed and jumped around like mad and sang out the words to all of the songs loudly. It was insane. As I’ve not got much time right now, I’ll leave you with a review of the show from the Toronto Sun. An update very soon.

Depeche Mode’s Gahan Thrills Fans

By JANE STEVENSON, Sun Media 25th July 2009, 5:09pm

Veteran British electro-dance-pop outfit Depeche Mode kicked off the North American leg of their so-called Tour Of The Universe in Toronto on Friday night at the Molson Amphitheatre with frontman Dave Gahan looking no worse the wear.

Gahan, you may recall, had a health scare back in May when he had a low-grade malignant tumor removed from his bladder, leading to the postponment of six European dates that were eventually rescheduled.

And just earlier this month, he also injured his leg on stage at a gig in Spain.

But if Gahan is feeling the effects of his recent health woes, he sure didn’t show it on Friday night in front of a sold-out crowd as he gleefully performed his trademark dance moves that included some sexy hip-wiggling, shaking his backside at the audience and twirling around with his mic stand high in the air.

Yes, Gahan looked skinny, but when doesn’t he, and his deep voice was clear and strong over the course of a 22-song show that stretched over two hours.

The group, which included founding members Martin Gore on guitar-keyboards and a sunglasses-wearing Andrew Fletcher on keyboards, played on an eye-catching stage dominated by a large LED video screen and matching circular ball screen hanging above the group.

Gore also looked sharp in a shiny silver sequin suit.

Unfortunately, it took a while for Depeche Mode to find their groove as they trotted out the obligatory new material from their latest album, Sounds Of The Universe, including the rather somber In Chains and Wrong, and the slightly more upbeat, Hole To Feed.

The audience, however, seemed thrilled just to have Gahan, in particular, in their presence and were on their feet immediately, cheering whenever he took off an article of clothing or was in exceptionally good dance form.

And when the hits finally kicked in – this is a group who have sold 100 million albums worldwide since their formation in 1980 – with Walking In My Shoes, which featured a backdrop of a crow on the video screen with a large eyeball projected on the ball above – the crowd couldn’t be contained as they happily sang, danced and clapped along.

A string of crowdpleasers, It’s No Good, A Question Of Time, and Precious – the latter from 2005’s Playing The Angel – were interrupted by another buzz kill song, Fly On the Windscreen, followed by Gore taking over on lead vocals for two back-to-back ballads, the new song Little Soul and Home (maybe to give Gahan a break), although Gahan eventually returned for two more unmemorable new song from Songs Of The Universe, Come Back and Fragile Tension.

The thing about Depeche Mode songs when they’re good, they’re great, but when they’re bad, they seem to go on forever.

Thankfully, the second half of the show really kicked into high gear, beginning with the dramatic I Feel You, followed by the dance-happy Policy Of Truth, Enjoy The Silence – featuring Gahan, Gore and Fletcher as stoned-faced astronauts in a video – Never Let Me Down Again and an encore that brimmed with some kinky material like Master And Servant, Strangelove (featuring a video in which a young Asian woman sucked the toe of a young redheaded woman who eventually explosed her breasts), and the mother of all Depeche Mode songs, Personal Jesus.

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***1/2 (3.5 out of five)

Depeche Mode

Molson Amphitheatre

Friday night

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SET LIST

In Chains

Wrong

Hole To Feed

Walking In My Shoes

It’s No Good

A Question Of Time

Precious

Fly On the Windscreen

Little Soul

Home

Come Back

Fragile Tension

In Your Room

I Feel You

Policy Of Truth

Enjoy The Silence

Never Let Me Down Again

FIRST ENCORE

Stripped

Master And Servant

Stangelove

SECOND ENCORE

Personal Jesus

Waiting For The Night

Never Let Me Down Again

In less than 24 hours, I will be swaying to the beats of one of my all time favourite bands – Depeche Mode. At times it seems as if it has taken a lifetime to get here – the moment I heard Just Can’t Get Enough when I was seventeen, way back in 1981 I was hooked. I’ve remained hooked until this very day. They have been one of the constants in my life. It seems rather fitting that I’ll be enjoying them with two of my other constants – my husband and daughter. Come September, it will be twenty-nine years since I met and was introduced to Jim. Imagine that, almost three decades ago. We’ve definitely shared some adventures over the years.

Now we are sharing in our recovery. Both of us have been on MMT for just over three years, and neither one of us has stumbled – yet, cause you can just never say never…Had we been still using, this concert would have been missed. In fact, I doubt very much that it would have even been much more than a blip on my radar. No time for stuff like that back then. Would have dismissed it with the excuse that we could simply not afford it, which was not at all truthful. In reality, we couldn’t be bothered to afford it, as our money was already earmarked for something far more important. What a difference a few years has made. I paid $150 for our three concert tickets, and yesterday paid out almost another $150 for our three bus tickets to Toronto. I’ve budgeted another $150 to use for our spending money. To a former addict, this is a massive step forward. Being able to hold onto money, to put it away to use later, to actually save is a skill that we rapidly lose once we become a junkie. I am happy, and proud and plan on really enjoying our family day out together at the show – Toronto garbage strike be damned!

P.S. Jim also just celebrated his 43rd birthday on Thursday! Happy birthday baby…Love you always…

I Got The Music In Me!!!

For as long back as I can remember, music has played an important part of my life. Discovering the wonders of Elvis Presley as a nine year old would forever alter the way that I looked at the world. To me at that time, I felt as if I had discovered something that no one else had any idea even existed. It was truly a magical and innocent time for me, and from that point on, I had to have music on in the background for every one of my waking moments – the hours of my day devoted solely to school would at times seem unbearable. From Elvis I moved on to pretty much whatever happened to be playing on the local AM Top Forty radio stations in my area. You can well imagine just how limited I actually was in regards to my musical choices, seeing how I just so happened to be growing up in the deepest, darkest musical abyss that was southwestern Ontario of the late 70’s. To my young and naive being though, I didn’t really know quite how awful it really was, and how much I was really missing out on. Of course, this all changed the summer that I turned fifteen, 1979. This would be the summer that, for better or worse, changed me in ways I can’t even begin to describe. Those brief months became a revelation to me, and from this point on, there was no way that SW Ont would ever be able to hold me down!

It was getting towards the end of June 1979. Grade Nine was rapidly coming to an end, and summer vacation was beckoning us all. Couldn’t wait for those lazy days of summer, especially as this summer just happened to offer something very, very special. My father was a teacher at the local community college, so he too, got to enjoy a couple of months vacation each and every summer, just like myself and my brother. As a family, we also had immigrated from Ireland to Canada a decade prior to this summer, and while my Dad had returned home a few times over the preceding ten years, the rest of us hadn’t. This was all about to change, as my family would be spending this summer’s vacation in Ireland, as well as England – my Mom’s parents had moved there from Ireland a number of years earlier so we were going to spend an equal amount of time between both countries and both sets of grandparents. I was so excited, although at the time, I had no idea exactly what kind of adventures awaited me, nor how profound a change these brief couple of months would end up having on me.

Although, my brother and I had more cousins living in Ireland, we did have a handful our age living in London, England, and they were more than happy to show their cousins from the colonies exactly what a huge city has to offer. Nothing in Canada prepared me for the grandness of London. At the time, we lived in a small town with a population of slightly more than 1 100. The largest city was a twenty minute drive from where we lived, and even then, its population didn’t quite reach 250 000. I was captivated instantly. I surrendered completely the second my cousins took us to Kings Road in Chelsea. I had never, ever seen or heard anything quite like I found here. Punk rock was alive and kicking, so to speak, although by the time I had arrived in the UK, the original punk movement that had exploded in 1976, had long since disappeared and been replaced by what many classify as a second wave of the punk rock movement. By the time that I arrived, punk had splintered into a number of sub groups, many of which I found exciting beyond belief, and for the brief couple of months spent in England and Ireland that summer, I couldn’t consume enough of this new music fast enough. I discovered what would soon be called New Wave and Pop Punk were my favourites and to this very day, I remain faithful and true to my first loves.

In just over a week’s time, I will be going to see one of my very first loves, Depeche Mode ! They have a show at Toronto’s Molsen Amphitheatre on Friday, July 24 – just so happens, this show falls on the day after Jim’s birthday! We’re going to make it a bit of a family day as Sara is coming with us – she was also allowed to bring a friend with her so she wouldn’t be stuck all day with our boring selves! This is also a bit of a big step for us as we’ve been keeping pretty much to ourselves this past year. Certainly, this event will have the largest crowd of people that we’ve had to interact and function within since the attack. Could prove fairly interesting. If nothing else, it certainly is a testament to how much I adore this particular band as I can’t think of too much else that would motivate me this much that’s for bloody sure.

Now, as an aside and for anyone that might be interested, besides Depeche Mode , my other all time favourite bands would have to be the Clash , Social Distortion , and Manic Street Preachers . I have a boatload of almost rans but that list would be too long…If I were stuck on a desert island, though…