The 8 Project

I first went to a physiotherapist in May, 2004, and eight years later, I found myself in one for the same set of issues. Not much has changed. I’ve been going in circles, and as a result, there has been little progress… June 1, I “enrolled” at a gym, in a membership which is initially set for 8 months. It costs me a figurative fortune, and yet, I have to pay this as it is for rehabilitative purposes. Of course, the GP could have subsidized, sponsored, referred or funded me; however, I cannot wait for another professional to suddenly see what they could not recognise in more than eight years. I imagine they would give some spiel about “funding cuts” and spending issues, which just translate to “you are not worth the investment because you are not serious.” Although my physical well-being and recovery is essential to my health, the professionals didn’t once think to intervene and suggest, or recommend a gym membership. Instead, the usual suspects have looked on in awe at the mysterious case of continuous [physical] degeneration which could easily have been alleviated if necessary steps were taken to “help” me. *sigh*

In these 8 years, I have seen massage therapists, physiotherapists, reflexologists, podiatrists and osteopaths, in addition to some other health practitioners and yet, my physical handicaps remain a mystery. The problem is, in all these years, since they ought to have been aware of the difficulties these issues caused me, surely they should have compensated by, at some point, classifying me as “DISABLED” knowing that resources could be allocated to individuals appropriately categorised. Of course, I wasn’t aware of this until much later, and yet, this is no surprise as I weren’t even aware of the POWER wielded by health professionals, i.e. General Practitioners, until a same-sexer informed me. (Again, this is consistent with the pattern of non-white people not being fully incorporated into the fabric of the society i.e. knowing how institutions work and what power – and duties – the people in these institutions have to operate and function.) Even in terms of health, I first discovered my functional disabilities when playing football, and yet, despite this being the childhood dream of all of us oppressed, wanna-be entertainers, I didn’t have a concept of how to “go pro.” Indeed, to operate as a non-white in this context is to be incompetent and incapacitated. *sigh*

In terms of trying to turn this post around and make it constructive, I can say that for the first time in some eight years, I am making steps to rediscover myself. After years of alienation from my dehumanised self and depersonalised body, with this gym access, I might finally be able to move towards independence and mobility, and yet, what has been lost? It so happens to my so-called “mental-issues” not long after my “functional disabilities”, and yet, the “fantastic” professionals didn’t note this. I say fantastic as they speculated on so much, whilst producing so little. In fact, I suggested I have “autism” so as to help them, however, when that failed, I advanced “Aspergers Syndrome” and “Dyslexia.” Almost a year later, when I demanded a proper assessment and diagnosis, these two concepts became “depression”, and later, potential/possible “psychosis.” More time passed without formal diagnosis, and then, I realised the “con.” I was not diagnosed as diagnosis demands intervention, and a needs assessment which might lead to “personalisation budget” i.e. financial autonomy, stability and independence. Again, I demanded a “diagnosis”, and complained to the “highers”, but in typical Team fashion, these suggestions evolved again into “personality disorder”, whilst “Aspergers” disappeared, after I contested it… having initially suggested something similar to it i.e. autism. At present, these “confusing” professionals have said I have an “unspecific disorder of adult personality and behaviour.” I only pray that one day the Team would be gracious enough to concede, they just don’t know. *sigh*

I only expected to play ball… I didn’t foresee all of this.

About omalone1

I live I die I write
This entry was posted in Sick of being black and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The 8 Project

  1. truthbetold says:

    May I say that ALL black have some form of depression. How can we not? Look at our past and present. May I suggest a few things to aid you?

    1. Diet
    2. Exercise
    3. Sleep
    4. Teas, like peppermint, ginger, etc
    5. Fresh air
    6. Talking to those you trust
    7. No TV, it’s poison
    8. Meditation and God

    I went through a rough time too and God was my ultimate friend and saviour.

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