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December 2014 — Vol 23/5
letters to
Link
Ashamed no more
You may publish my letter in full if you wish as I am no longer
ashamed or embarrassed to admit that I have a mental illness
-
despite, alas, the stigma, still associated with mental illness.
So, this, then - if I may borrow a phrase from the LGBT
community - is my 'coming out'.
As one who has bipolar disorder I count him braver
who overcomes his fear and anxieties and angst and
anger and obsessions and mania and depression
-
braver, much braver and stronger than he who
conquers his external enemies - for the hardest victory
is the victory of self.
Alas, at times, we are overcome and overwhelmed and
defeated by our insidious depression and we succumb
to relief by suicide - nonetheless, Rest in Peace, Robin
Williams, because your exuberance and joy and humour
over the years has kept me (and many others) alive
and well on many a cruel and cold night of unremitting
depression. That I am alive is due to you. Thank you,
Robin. I love you, man. Cheers and tears from me.
Terry Richard Klump, Albion, Vic
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otherwise.
Letter of the Issue:
Job for life
I work as a support worker in the disability sector and was
pleased to find out that Link is based right here in Adelaide.
I enjoy reading the magazine as I can relate to many of
the issues through my work with people with intellectual
disabilities. In particular, I enjoyed reading Nicole Stephen's
article 'Why I work in the disability sector' from Volume
22,
Issue 5, December 2013. I have included a poem that
I have written since starting in the disability sector nearly
three years ago which captures my experience from going
from warehousing work to working with people with a
disability, which I now want to do forever!
Jay Close, Happy Valley, SA
Back to School
By Jay Close
I was taught how to count, to read and write and spell
All of this was useful and served me very well
But to think outside the box, you set yourself to fail
This classroom was nothing more than a jail
Unemployed and unenthused
Applied for jobs, was refused
No money, no life In a bit of strife
Then I met them, they defied the status quo
They cared not for money or how ‘high’ someone could go
Sleeping in and going for drives were high on their list
Disappointed faces when either were missed
It was a dream, I was paid to care
Become family to those that were there
I was there to teach them, but that mattered nought
It was they who were in charge, and it was me who was
taught
Their lessons were simple, but oblivious were they
That their smiles could change a rainy day
Every time I go to work, it is I who am the fool
For every day I am “unlearning”, I’m going “back to school”
Love and Hate
You may sometimes see me wheeling around the Southern
Highlands (NSW) wearing my favourite cap, bought for me
by my wife once in Turkey and a comfortable and easily
worn caftan, skilfully made for me by my dear mother. I am
not dressed this way to provoke. Hopefully in this country
we still have the right to dress and behave as we choose
as long as it does no harm to others. So please do not spit
on me or kick my wheelchair. And please don't tell me to
"
go back to where you came from" as my mother, now in
her 80s, has suffered enough – and I simply won't fit.
On a much happier note I would like to express, after three
weeks in a nursing home, my deep appreciation to all
those carers, nurses, RSL and service club providers (I had
wondered where the Kit Kat's were mysteriously appearing
from), church groups, musicians, performers, students and so
many others freely giving their time to make the lives of others
more bearable. We are truly blessed in Australia to have so
many of these people and for them to be the great majority.
I hope we stay that way, for that's what truly is good about
our society - and love must always triumph over hate.
Bruce Mumford, Moss Vale, NSW
