Danielle Hunter Made To Sleep On Floor Of Mental Health Facility

A relative of mine spent a number of years as a patient in a mental hospital.  I have known other people who have spent time in various hospitals and institutions.  From their experiences, I have come to the conclusion that here in the US, we take better care of animals we slaughter than of mental-health patients.

It seems that when you go for mental health care, you surrender all of your rights--including your right to saftety, let alone the right to be who you are.  At least, the case of Danielle Hunter could tell us as much.

She is a transgender performer who was admitted to Lakeside Behavior Healthcare in Orlando, FL on 24 March after attempting suicide and, while recuperating in a hospital, saying that she would try again.  The following night, she was removed from her bed and made to sleep on the floor in front of the nurse's station.  

When she asked why she was treated that way, a nurse told her, "If you would like to sleep in a bed, you can sleep in with the men."

What's even more galling about this is that Ms. Hunter has a Florida ID that lists her as female.  

Fortunately for her, she is well-known in the Orlando area--and, apparently, beyond--and therefore has some people with "juice" advocating on her behalf.  That begs the question of what would happen to her if she were some anonymous street kid--or, for that matter, me.

When We Get What We Need

One of the more depressing things to write about is the poor state of mental health and high rates of suicide among trans people, especially our young.

We don't go crazy or kill ourselves because we're trans, any more than people become unwell or off themselves because they're Black, Latina, women, physically disabled or anything else.  Rather, it's the stress of living in an inhospitable world that drives us to, or over, the edge.  

And, as with any other group of people, we do just as well as anybody else when we have what we need--including medical and mental health care.

As this graphic from Anti-Media shows, our suicide rates plummet--and or overall mental health improves--when we get the care we need.  And it even saves Medicaid money!:


 
 

Looking In Balance

Before I went out for a bike ride, I went to a couple of stores in my neighborhood.  In one of them, I bumped into someone I hadn't seen in at least a year and a half.  I can say that with certainty because it's been about that long since I moved, and I last saw her before then.  She was one of my neighbors.

Then, I was almost home when I bumped into someone else I hadn't seen in about the same amount of time.  I was happy to see her, as I was to see the former neighbor. They are both nice and generous people.  The old neighbor is retired, and the other woman is not far from it.  

Both of them told me I looked really good.  Both of them emphasized "really."  I'll concede that I've lost a few pounds and I have a bit more color than I did a couple of months ago. What I found interesting about both of those encounters is that they seemed admiring, but not fawning.  They talked in that "Girl, you're doing something right!" tone.  


Perhaps I was exuding something I've felt lately.  I still need to lose more weight, but I actually feel a good energy.   I know I'll never have the flat-out strength, or overall conditioning, I once had.  Part of the reason is my age, and part of it has to do with having taken hormones.  But, even though I know that I could be in even better shape, and that will take time and work, I feel something I never felt in all of those years that I was riding  15,000 miles a year and lifting weights:  balance.  That, ironically enough, may have to do with the hormones--and the surgery.


Even more important, I feel that I can only do what I want and need to do for my own reasons.  Other people may not understand those reasons.  I'm not sure that either of those women I saw today can understand.  However, I'm not even sure that they feel the need to understand.  They  know simply that I needed to undergo my transition and that, in some way, I will probably always need to ride my bike. Or, at least, I can't imagine life without either of those things.  Perhaps they understand that.


Doing what you need to do, for your own reasons:  That, it seems, is one of the steps toward becoming a self-actualized human being.  People tend to look good doing that.

Next Installments

So today I paid my first month's rent on my new place. I still have mixed feelings about it. On one hand, it's a new beginning and is therefore exciting. On the other, I wonder whether this is a detour from the things I'd anticipated.

At least I feel like some part of my future is unfolding. Today I also met with Tom Weber, the head of SAGE (Services and Advocacy for GLBT Elders), Randi, a social worker with SAGE and someone whose name I'm not recalling at the moment.

We talked about starting a focus group with transgender people 45 years and older to find out what they might want in a group for trans people of that age. I came up with the idea when I was in Colorado and noticed that Joyce, Lindy and Danny, who were there for the surgery, were all around my age. It made me think about some of the issues we face, and how so much of what's available doesn't address them. Like so many other things in our culture, support groups and other LGBT services tend to be very youth-oriented. Not that I have anything against the young people: It's just that our concerns are different.

I am excited about the idea of moving ahead with such a project--and, if you know me by now, you wouldn't be surprised to know that I'm a bit nervous. I know that I'll be working with mental health care professionals, who will help with screening and other things in which I have no experience. Still, when I'm doing something to help someone, I want to know I'm doing the best that anyone can do for that person.

At least the ideas I expressed look like they may bear fruit. I guess that's an accomplishment, for now.