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Making Ends Meet: A Day in the Life

We live in a society where no one accepts responsibility for their mistakes, no one is held accountable for their actions, and no one EVER says they are sorry.

Let me you a small glimpse inside the day in the of the un/underemployed:

I spend day after day after may doing the same thing without any result: I can only offer you a glimpse into day in the life because there io room left to sit in my car, and I believe my apartment may actually be a fire hazard... This was my daily update posted at 7:30am:

I have done everything humanly possible to clean up the slack, however, I feel I have no other choice than to file a formal complaint so that my entire case is reviewed. The number of mistakes are so overwhelming that I simply don't have enough time to documents each and every one with the respective agency.

I will try to be more specific later without going into too much detail, but unfortunately, that level of detail is required to file the necessary appeals. Ironic huh? This apartment is like my own little cage, and I am just pathetic enough to run around in circles, hoping to find the much like a hamster wheel, rodent chasing in circles hoping to found my way out my way out before I run out air. If only I had finished my damn PhD, I would do my own case study or reality show on how far we'll go to have nothing at all...

I have taken care of the subrogation claim, however, that does bot minimize my level of frustration because I am DROWNING in paperwork. I have contacted several agencies to assistance such as the Disability Law and Advocacy Center, however, I do not have the resources necessary to provide them with timely response. There is a very limited time allowed to Request Reconsideration, or file an appeal.

I also want to be clear that every time I have to call Social Security or DHS, it only compounds my cost of living expenses (40 cents per minute on the telephone -- a bill which is not even considered to be a justifiable expense) Most agencies do not include self-addressed stamped envelopes, and I can not afford the postage required to mail out all of the requested documentation (e.g., utility bills, medical bills, pay stubs, etc.)

Fortunately, a number of agencies will take online complaints. Unfortunately, my internet was interrupted for non-payment for several weeks and their is no funding resource or community agency that provides subsidized Internet access or free printer ink.

Transportation costs are ridiculous so going to the library is not an option. Neither is returning to work right now, since it would cost too much to get to the interview or provide official (expensive) copies of my graduate school transcirpts that were oh, such a good investment!

Set aside, I am not the most user friendly person right about now, so I have found it difficult to put on a happy face so I can work at McDonald's which pays more than Metro anyway.

The subrogation claim has been resolved but I just learned that my breast biopsy was not pre-authorized and I was told by my INSURANCE CSR (the person who answers the phone!!!) that I should not have the surgery that has already been scheduled at the Women's Hospital for 8/21/2008. AmeriChoice (United HealthCare) did they did not authorize the biopsy last month, and have not, as of yet, received a request prior authorization for the surgery next week...

This was a lovely 54 minute conversation because he would not mail me copies of my EOBs or confirm that what, if any, requests have been submitted for payment since my last inquiry and change of address. He finally told me to call the state (Tennessee) which I have already done several times, and they told me to call Social Security but it was already past business hours and I am not authorized to make changes to my file anyway.

I'll be in touch when I can. Unfortunately each agency has different deadlines, and it takes a lot of energy and time to scan in, copy, or respond to each inquiry in writing, so I find myself running out of time since I can't seem to get anything done unless I just do nothing at all.

And even though my life is a living hell, I have almost learned how to enjoy the sheer irony of it all... for someone with OCD and post-traumatic stress, this is truly a ridiculous little experiment.

I am becoming increasingly inspired to just burn every last document I own, throw away my keys and my cell phone and take Spotty some place where we can live off the land and ignore the fact that society has me chained to a computer screen that screen that does provide the basic necessities I need to live in this .

I have come this far, and I am becoming rather skilled and at expressing myself without needing an audience or the obsessive need to check every fact, throw, and typo for capitalization and perfection.

So for now... I write.

Maybe later, I'll read, but if there is any justice left in this world, someday, I'll actually live.

Good-bye for now. I need a break.

With love,Elyssa Durant, Ed.M.
Nashville, Tennessee
Cell: (615) 424-8810
E-mail: elyssa.durant@columbia.edu

Elyssa Durant, Ed.M.

"The paradox of education is precisely this-- that as one begins to

become educated, one begins to examine the society in which he [or

she] is being educated." - Baldwin

Nashville, Tennessee


Re: Making Ends Meet When You Can't Afford the Paper (cookie)
Posted: 11:34:17 pm on 9/3/2008 Modified: Never


Elyssa

I feel for you but am finding it hard to understand your situation where you can't afford money to print necessary forms or afford bus fair to a public library. Please understand that I am not doubting what you say, but rather that what you describe is a pretty desperate circumstance.

Have you tried asking for lawyer assistance pro bono? I checked for you. The Nashville bar offers a Pro Bono program for certain circumstances, and it would seem that you meet the criteria. Check out

http://www.nashbar.org/forpublic.htm

They prefer an email but if that's too uncertain for you you could try them via phone or physical address:

315 Union Street, Suite 800 Nashville, TN 37201

Phone:
615-242-9272

Things may seem grim but don't drown yourself in a negative spiral. Keep your mind pinned on the positive.

Best of luck to you.

Cookie



Re: Making Ends Meet When You Can't Afford the Paper (FedUp)
Posted: 7:19:19 pm on 9/10/2008 Modified: Never


No offense, but that was my first thought: you can't afford bus fare, phone minutes or paper/ink, yet you still have internet access?

Are you still in your apartment?






Re: Making Ends Meet When You Can't Afford the Paper (Elyssa Durant)
Posted: 7:14:03 pm on 9/11/2008 Modified: Never


My first thought: You're kidding, right?

My second thought:
Poor thing just deosn't get it...
Take a look at "Good Fences" available online
http://www.nycvoices.org/article_1132.php

Elyssa Durant, Ed.M.
Nashville, Tennessee
Cell: (615) 424-8810
E-mail: ed70@columbia.edu

"The paradox of education is precisely this-- that as one begins to
become educated, one begins to examine the society in which he [or
she] is being educated." - Baldwin














Re: Making Ends Meet When You Can't Afford the Paper (MLCC)
Posted: 3:21:44 pm on 9/12/2008 Modified: Never


It's the government. Gather your paperwork, make an appointment, haul it down there for them to make a copy of whatever they need. Might be nice if you typed up an itemized summary of whatever they are most interested in gleaning from said paperwork so they might not copy the whole darn pile so trees and taxpayer monies can be saved.

While in need you trade time for assistance (money, food, healthcare) because you have 40-60 hours that most working adults do not have. Spend that 40-60 hours helping others to help you. I hardly think that is asking too much. No free lunches without something in trade.

What really boggles my mind is that there are people out there who cannot afford these simple things that refuse to get out there and take a couple of jobs, any job, doing anything just to get money in their pocket. The illegals manage despite lack of English competency, what is the matter with these people?

Just an ant that can't comprehend grasshopper attitudes.

Re: Making Ends Meet When You Can't Afford the Paper (paperpusher666)
Posted: 4:34:42 pm on 9/12/2008 Modified: 4:35:32 pm on 9/12/2008

Ever hear of Kitty Genovese? She was murdered in New York City about 50 years ago while at least a dozen of her neighbors watched, so the indifference of our neighbors is nothing new. NO ONE called the cops.

To a large extent, the rewards are on the side of being indifferent to our neighbors. Many people are petty enough to find ways to punish us for criticizing what they do, so we put up with noisy neighbors. In my building, I have learned that the annoying neighbors will be gone soon enough. Of the other three apartments on my floor, every one has turned over at least once in the year that i've been there. Part of the reason is that we have a lot of military families, but a larger reason is eviction. People are in a lot more debt than we think.

It's also hard to ask for help, particularly when you think that you should be doing better, given your education. From what I've read, the biggest help for someone with OCD is to have a structured environment. I'm at the start of helping a friend who has OCD de-hoard his house. It will take months, but the thing that really makes the process painful and slow is his inability to decide to throw something out. I'm a believer in cognitive behavioral therapy, but that takes time and effort that he is not willing to apply. If one can let bulk mail pile up for seven years, the odds are pretty good that most of it is out of date by now, but that's not how he sees it. The hard part will be his basement, six hundred square feet of crap, piled five feet high.

Making Ends Meet When You Can't the Paper? (Elyssa Durant)

Posted: 10:50:56 pm on 2/3/2009 Modified: Never

Nashville Bar Association and / or Legal Aid have both reviewed my case, and though I meet the eligibility criteria to obtain services, I found them to be very diasorganized in the application process. And simply could not do anything I hadn't already tried...

Limits federal limits for financial and certainly qualify for servies under various ADA protected categories, but what people don't realize is this... All I need is a actual, LIVING-WAGE job.

Trust me, they are harder to find than you might think.

I am certainly far below the income threshold and meet all eligibility requirements for various programs, but all I really want is the opportunity to be judged on my merits-- not be forced to identify myself as a recipient of federal funds so that corporation can CLAIM the welfare to work reduction.

Thanks, but no. I do qualify for Vocational Rehabilitation but the state messed up records so badly that I have absoultely no idea what the status of my PASS application is.

Pro-bono and nonprofits community agencies simply are not set up to deal with such complicated inter-related and complex issues. Legal Aid and TPA have both reviwed and evaluated the status of my case.

Neither handle bankruptcy, student loan disputes, or ERISA disputes. The Disability Law and Advocacy Center did not show up to a scheduled negotiation. My designated representative succeeeded at doing one thing: consitently missing every single possible filing deadline regardless of the how many times I called, wrote, or complained for over three years.

That is negligence in my book.

Forgive me for saying so, but those are "advocates" I could do without. It would be nice if I could find someone who is professional enough to at least show up when THEY are being paid.

It would be so much easier if I could, in fact, find a real paying job, however despite my best efforts, I have found very few people who can be sensitive to my situation and allow reasonable accomodations that are my no means too, too disruptive or annoying.

Unfortuantely I will never meet the criteria of a rank and file employee, however I'm starting to think that maybe employers are not making the best of decisions when I look at how many of them are closing up shop. I need a job that pays, in full, on time, and does not mind my attentiomn (or obsession) to detail.

I even once got fired from Red Lobster the management felt I was "not Red Lobster Material." All in all, I guess that is not such a bad thing, because when I planned goals for myself, I cannot honestly say that being "Red Lobster Material" was not anywhere near the top of my list!

Unforutnately, good intent does not translate into the ability to pay salaries or related expenses such as INTERNET, telephone access or even basic transportation and realted expenses.

I am finding out that there are so many more people out there like myself who are "out-the-door ready and willing to go to work" were it not for the sinking economy and underwhelming job forecasts from the Bureau of Labor Statistics.

I have tried looking at this from every angle, but the bottom line is this: I NEED A JOB!

Thank you for your thoughtful reply. I will no doubt be revisit your rsuggestions when I attempt to file my taxes again through the VITA program.

Sincerely yours,

Elyssa Durant
Nashville, Tennessee
E-mail: ed70@columbia.edu

Elyssa Durant, Ed.M.
Nashville, Tennessee


Re: Making Ends Meet When You Can't Afford the Paper (Elyssa Durant)
Posted: 10:58:37 pm on 2/3/2009 Modified: 11:06:45 pm on 2/3/2009


How did I miss this refreshing post?

Thank you so much for not doubting my efforts and sincerity when I tell you I've tried.

I know exactly how much money I am costing society, but what I have not done is abuse the system any more than it has abused me.

Surely, we all know that it is easy to skate by in American on less than $600 a month. And trust me if you have ANY illness when you go into the system, you will be so far beyond normal by the time you are through. assuming that is, that you are one the privileged elite who can meet their criteria and be poor like me!

I must be pretty freakin dumb if I thought I could try.

Thank you.

Elyssa


Elyssa Durant, Ed.M.
Nashville, Tennessee


Re: Making Ends Meet When You Can't Afford the Paper (Elyssa Durant)
Posted: 11:06:03 pm on 2/3/2009 Modified: Never


Do you still feel I am abusing the welfare system by paying for internet access? Because I would so love it you could donate some wifi access to anyoneother than myself so others can enjoy that elusive privilege of speaking loud. Surely someone can donate wifi to all us who should go without voice or recognition for using our words on the government's dime. Yeah, I guess you are right, I don't deserve internet access. It makes me angry to see comments like yours that insult my intelligeence and my sense of humor.

Whatever. If it makes you feel any better, I hope you feel just fine.

Elyssa Durant, Ed.M.
Nashville, Tennessee


Re: Making Ends Meet When You Can't Afford the Paper (new_wave_princes)
Posted: 12:18:21 am on 4/14/2009 Modified: Never


So you are on welfare, can't afford paper, but can afford computer? No, I don't feel sorry for you. You probably just don't want to work.

Re: Making Ends Meet When You Can't Afford the Paper (hagofall)
Posted: 6:33:44 pm on 4/16/2009 Modified: Never


I wonder if "new wave..." checks up on whether he's been read? (I know I do.) I think your (nwp) response in "this" category is kind of reprehensible but in "others" you appear more reasonable--still very angry. So, you are the more newly kicked around and definitely feeling sorry for only your own ilk? Not to mention, we, none of us, want to look pathetic, pride is there and it, somtimes, makes it all the more complex, yes? no?....

Re: Making Ends Meet When You Can't Afford the Paper (new_wave_princes)
Posted: 9:58:29 pm on 4/16/2009 Modified: 9:59:37 pm on 4/16/2009

Hagofall, I have no idea what you are asking. I just think it's wrong that she manages to have internet on welfare but not paper. Her priorities are out of whack. Not one thing I've read about her mentions actually looking for any kind of job. I too have a MA, but I'll take what I can get, and not take welfare.

Re: Making Ends Meet When You Can't Afford the Paper (hagofall)
Posted: 8:56:33 am on 4/17/2009 Modified: Never

There are a lot of things going on here, for one, Bait and Switch might be a more appropriate forum for Elyssa. Not that it matters that much. People are just getting it off their chests. But the people Barbara Ehrenreich writes about in Nickeled and Dimed have always been poor and working. What I love greatly about BE's books is the writing and I am laughing through out. Irony keeps me going. But some people aren't like me in this and aren't we all so vastly different when you look at the details? When it comes to what we write via the internet, that is where we seem more alike--in our ideas. Ideas vs. realities.

Anyway, nobody is going to argue with the numbers. I'll venture to say that there have never been enough jobs for all the people who need them. And now? My local internet "help wanted" site showed 250 jobs with 18,000 job seekers. And this was before all hell broke loose. And don't forget there is competition for low wage jobs too.

I am fascinated with how people survive. As far as I am concerned nothing is a piece of cake when you're one us, us being the majority of human beings.

And New Wave Prince, I'll apologize , because I thought you were being mean but instead we just have different ideas.

Re: Making Ends Meet When You Can't Afford the Paper (paperpusher666)
Posted: 2:17:36 pm on 4/23/2009 Modified: Never


Most libraries give you internet access for free. It might be limited to an hour or two a day, but you can get it for free.

There are currently 1339 members registered on Barbara Ehrenreich Forum.

The Ultimate Price: The Bottom Dollar in Healthcare Reform

The Ultimate Price: The Bottom Dollar in Healthcare Reform

The most recent victims of our states radical cuts from the state’s Medicaid Rolls, the –wheels are now in motion. Tennessee’s decision to eradicate yet another class of TennCare / Medicaid recipients of The Daniels Class, 140,000 social security recipients are currently in the process of being recertified to determine their eligibility for Medicaid. This waiver was requested and granted as a measure to limit the number of Medicaid recipients the state would be forced to cover under federal law.

As a result, 140,000 people like myself may the healthcare we fought so hard to obtain. The poor, the sick and the elderly. The disabled residents of Tennessee. We will now join the ranks of the other 47 million Americans without health insurance. More people that will be forced to rely upon the federal government because the individual states have failed them. Shifting the burden once again. But somebody has to pay.

So the discussion has gone round and round and round again just to find the right place to dump the costs. From private to public and then back again. Upon the shoulders our children and the conscience of a nation.

But we need to determine where and when we draw the line. We need to decide on the bottom line and just how much we are willing to gamble on our individual welfare and the health of our nation. How much is it worth. $1 Billion $7 Billion? $700 Billion? Do we value our healthcare more than our vehicles or our homes? Companies that profited by institutionalizing predatory lending bankrupting families, communities and the country as a result.

To be clear, WE ARE ALL PAYING!

I can assure you once you lose your ability to have faith in yourself to be faced with the brutal reality of the failing safety net we call Social “Security,” material belonging and personal property have lost all monetary value. And when that moment comes, you realize you have already paid far too much.

To be clear, YOU ARE ALL PAYING. Yes, all of us are paying some price.....

Where is the safety net? Where is the American Dream that I so diligently chased after for so many years? What was the point spending so much on an education that will never be utilized? I understand the how; I just don't understand why.

Elyssa Durant
Nashville, Tennessee

TIDES OF CHANGE

It seems painfully obvious to me now that the only way out was through….

If had known then what I know, I would not have wasted so much precious time searching for the source of my profound sadness. I have realized that the events leading me into this circle of despair must no longer guide me through life if I am to escape the memories of my past. Now, it is time to focus on the answers and ask a different question…

I have spent years asking myself, “How did I get here?”

Today I am wondering, “Now how the fuck do I get out?”

Funding Grant Received to Transition Homeless

I am happy to report that I am no longer tweeting from my TwackBerry (in part because it is broken) and that Spotty and I are now in our very own apartment!

I am to thrilled to have a place to plant butt on the floor (no bed yet) but to watch Spotty curled up next me in the morning, purring as if nothing ever happened, I hardly notice how hard the floor is beneath the single top sheet that I have been sleeping on.

This brings me incredible relief. I thought she was broken. I thought she would be scarred for life. But Spotty has adapted better than expected. She is miraculously calm and almost unaware of how close we were to being.... how close she was to not being saved at all. Sadly no one came forward to Please Dave Spotty. I must find a place to balance my anger and disgust for all who poked fun at my campaign to save Spotty. http://darknightdurant.blogspot.com/2009/04/please-save-spotty.html

To be perfectly honest, I had given up hope that I this moment would come. The simple joy in having a place to call home. So yes, I can breathe. I can love. I can express joy. And relief, and should feel some sense of “pride” that it was me who did it. Against all odds, and should feel empowered that despite the barrage of the added stress fixing errors that I did not make; ultimately I was the one who has to find some oasis in this complete and total government fuckuppery. Complicated further by unforeseen, unforgiving, complications from my past, I did what I needed to do to set myself free. Did it work? Yes and no. Do I feel free? Yes and no. Do I feel a sense of pride and dignity? Yes and no. Will I ever feel safe and truly at home? Probably not. http://thepowersthatbeat.blogspot.com/2009/07/greatest-gift-greatest-grtief.html

But I will pretend for now that none of this matters. I will pretend the fraud and abuse is gone for the time being, so I can try to make it through the hour with a sense of ownership, self-efficacy and hope that for one day, my life is not interrupted by uninvited guests or complications so I can take a few hours to feel some relief as together we move towards a sense of stability.... http://thepowersthatbeat.blogspot.com/2009/08/identity-theft-its-personal.html

Unfortunately, I can still feel the wolves circling outside the door. As I try to lift myself up from the darkest depths of despair, I am racing against the clock to collect pieces of myself lost along the way. Of critical importance is recovering all the documents that will allow me to stay here-- as I am under review for social security, DHS, social services, and of course, the MDHA (Metro Development Housing Agency) for Section 8. This requires proof of income, identity, and countless other forms and documentation that are difficult to keep track of when you don't have an address or a place to keep them safe in an unsafe environment. http://darknightdurant.blogspot.com/2009/07/housing-crisis-in-nashville-tennessee.html

A few days ago, I found out that all of my belongings had been were placed into garbage bags, and thrown into the very same flooded garage outside the house I had rented from a CMHA (Community Mental Health Agency) that was funded, in part by SAMHSA (the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration) HUD (Housing and Urban Development) and special funds under the Recovery Act of 2009. I used to work as for SAMSHA, and I know enough about the law to realize that the lack of supervision and intervention at the house I rented is not only against the rules, but should be considered a crime against humanity. http://article.wn.com/view/2009/09/10/Centerstone_receives_grant_from_city_to_assist_homeless/

The "landlord" did nothing to prevent or intervene and actually encouraged such behavior as he knew it would force me out of the house that was clearly a threat to my safety and well being. The three women who should be jailed for the countless times they complicated the situation by locking me out, unplugging my phone, disconnecting my computer cables, and destroying my property "just for fun." http://thepowersthatbeat.blogspot.com/2009/08/today-again.html

What he did take issue with was the very fact that I was writing about my circumstances, especially the more disturbing times when I was when I watched the other residents become violent, and dangerous towards each other, and in time towards me. One nearly assaulted with me with waffle iron; One locked during a tornado warning, and one was simply too intoxicated to make a telephone call when five shots were fired down the street. To prevent from calling mobile crisis to intervene, me personal telephone was disconnected, the electric cables and power cords were unplugged and ultimately broken, and when I needed to call 911 even the house phone had disconnected by the woman who claims ownership by proxy of the entire household. Yeah, I’m the problem.

To add insult to injury, the day after my belongings were moved into the flooded garage, I learned that the agency received a grant to help transition the homeless. I'm not quite sure what to do... but I think there needs to be a stop gap measure somewhere, and if that makes me a "rat" so be it, but no one, and I mean NO ONE should ever be subjected to the things I witnessed over the last six months while I paid rent, yet lost everything as I was locked outside by the residents, while disposed of my food, kept from my medicine and destroyed property by repeatedly moving into areas of the property that were known to have flooding. The originals are destroyed; the ink from the notarized copies bleeds into the paper and can no longer feed through the scanner without getting caught in the feed. http://thepowersthatbeat.blogspot.com/2009/08/metro-govt-fuckuppery.html

Centerstone should probably know exactly how the “landlord” is doing business, and SAMHSA may be interested to see exactly how that grant money to help transition from homeless is being spent. http://article.wn.com/view/2009/09/10/Centerstone_receives_grant_from_city_to_assist_homeless/

I hope to pick the remaining items sometime son, and can only hope that I have what I need to move forward, and find the piece of myself that used to care enough to volunteer at the family shelter; go one more round in the fight for social justice; explain the need for equitable funding and share facts and research with those who need it… I encourage others to support social welfare programs to empower youth and the disenfranchised... I encourage others because I’m not sure I have what it takes any more. Not the skills, the passion. The drive. http://thepowersthatbeat.blogspot.com/2009/08/is-poverty-crime.html

Maybe I will. Maybe I won't. I guess the bottom line is that maybe I can't.

Perhaps the significant loss was the faith I had in human decency and kindness. I also lost considerable respect for nearly every person I know as they watched from a far (or a near) and failed to do anything to "stop the madness" I must confront the fact that so many things got lost in the 6 months it took to get here.

There were so many along the way that provided golden opportunities for someone to step up and be a hero. Not for the publicity or to grand stand, simply to be a hero to one woman who was caught in the vortex in a vicious downward spiral: homeless, helpless, hopeless.

So many faces, most of them of them strangers, would pass me by not knowing g of my story, my fear, or my sadness and isolation. They would chat me up at the park, the library, some place I could use Wi Fi for free, and I would feel almost human for a few hours. http://darknightdurant.blogspot.com/2009/07/writing-through-dark.html

Several hours later, I would find myself sitting in the parking lot hours after losing, tweeting my ass off in the pouring rain with nowhere to run to and no place to hide. Only then could you see the broken dreams of a woman marginalized into the shell of a person I had become. Broken. Completely broken.

To be continued….

Criminalizing the Poor

It deeply disturbs me that some states finger print Medicaid, Food Stamp and Social Welfare applicants.

I was shocked to witness this first hand in New York State while I was a graduate student at Columbia. My health insurance would not cover due to pre-existing conditions and I went bankrupt (financially, morally, and in every way that counts) spending over $152,000 in student loans trying to maintain my health so I could finish my PhD in public policy. A pipe dream now... I ran out of money (and faith in the system) the last semester of my degree.

As if they don't treat those living in poverty bad enough in America, must they send an underlying message that we are criminals as well? They sure treat us that way.

Please tell me what crime I committed. I would be happy to serve my time. At least I could count on being fed, housed, and govt. healthcare!

Elyssa Durant, Ed.M.
Nashville, Tennessee
United States of America

Answering the Call in Nashville, TN

Answering the Call: Is there anybody listening?

Post From Ned V:

“Hey, sounds like me! I’m headed towards ruin quick. Hope all is well.”

Post From Ned V:

“I’m not good, Elyssa. Very depressed. I was such a different person when I knew you. But maybe I will be different soon.”

Reply from ElyssaD:

God, Ned, I wish we could talk. Based upon what I’ve read through your interviews and posts online it seems you are going through the same emotional chaos I was experiencing that first year we met in New York.

A friend just checked himself into a psych ward after a suicide attempt, and I feel so helpless. I care and respect you both so much. It is funny because I always thought if I could just finish that damn book I was working on ten years ago… or law school, my Ph.D.- any number of things- everything would be okay. I’m confused because you finished your book, Rob finished law school… yet I finished nothing.



A few weeks ago I “lost my shit”, so to speak. Then I read your interview and was completely blown away. I used to be the crazy one! Now I have my sanity back, but nothing else.



Having been through several crises myself, I formed the philosophy that when you see someone in crisis they become so overwhelmed and confused they do not know what to do, or how to dig out of the hole they have dug for themselves. I decided rather than asking, just figure out their first step and give it to them, no questions asked, no thank you necessary.



How many people have said, “Call if there is anything I can do!” and when you actually call, you receive nothing but disappointment and regret. I decided never to ask somebody what they need, mostly because even they don’t know.



When I came to the realization a few weeks ago that my transient existence is so tangential no one would notice if I never took another breath, I tried to figure out what I needed. I started going through my old journals to see if I could identify the missing element of my life. That “thing” that would simultaneously make it all goes away and come together so I could be a whole person again.



That thing is a figment of my imagination. I used to think it was being loved by a man. I had that, and it wasn’t it. Then I thought it was having money. I had that, but it wasn’t it either. I thought it could be having health insurance- still, no. Perhaps it would be having that “oh-so-critical” Ivy League degree. I have that, and it still wasn’t the solution. None of those things could have been “it.”



In truth, the thing I need most I lost long ago.



Hope.



Perhaps I never really had it at all. I guess some things can’t be bought, learned, earned, or acquired.



I think of the long twisted road, and I remember one of my favorite childhood movies with a girl named Dorothy so determined to find her way home after a great storm. Disillusioned and distracted, Dorothy would not yield to the many obstacles that had been placed in her way. Determined to meet the great Wizard, she stuck to one path.



Yes, there were detours, obstacles, and the Wicked Witch of the West. Each of these obstacles may have taken her, yet she never once lost sight of the road home. She believed in one thing: The Wizard, and his ability to bring her home. Having great faith and determination, she never strayed far off the path of righteousness. Dorothy had a clearly defined goal, a means to get there, and a bright yellow brick road to guide her. Through her determination and unyielding faith, Dorothy never once doubted she was on the right path.



In the Wizard of Oz, the yellow brick road may have been Dorothy’s path, but her determination and blind faith was able to bring others along the road to enlightenment. The lion found his courage; the tin man got a heart. The scarecrow got some brains. Even Dorothy got what she needed most.



Dorothy began her journey looking for one thing: To get back to where she began, to find her way home. Dorothy teaches us a valuable lesson. Yet she was lucky enough to know what it was she so desperately longed for... home.



I can’t click my heels three times to find my way home, for sadly I know not where home is. They say, “Home is where the heart is”. Perhaps that is part of the problem. For some of us, our childhood homes were not places of happiness for which we’re nostalgic. They are places from which we run, endlessly seeking our own magical place, hoping we come across a road that clearly guides us toward our destination.



Of course we will encounter challenges that take us off course, and it is up to us to find our way back to the path. Unfortunately, if you stray from the path too long, there is a point at which we lose our direction and faith. As I grew older, I realized my feelings of detachment went far beyond a dysfunctional childhood or a broken family life in which my sister and I never even lived in the same house for more than a year, only in the summertime.



No matter how long I have been in Nashville, in many ways I am still a stranger. A stranger, because homeless is a state of mind. In my mind, I think home is a place of acceptance, shelter, forgiveness, comfort and recognition. For most, going home means to reconnect in a way you are reminded you have something or someone, who will always have your back. Home represents more than a structure; it represents a strong foundation always available whenever you need to safety and comfort, and protection.



So this is my home. I don’t necessarily feel safe here, but I do feel consistent. I do not have to worry that I will be forced to switch schools, neighbors or friends every six months because my parents could not get it right. What they failed to realize is just how very wrong it really was. Changing schools, friends, siblings… even myself- just enough to fit in each time. But after 16 years of constant change, I never got the opportunity to find out anything real about myself. Even my name was changed when I moved--- my dad called me “Liz,” and my mother called herself any number of last names as she desperately sought to hold on to her youth, beauty and delusional fantasies of entitlement and sacrifice. I think she may actually believe her lies to be true.



I never had plastic surgery- couldn’t afford it anyway- but I do have a clear memory, vivid nightmares, and a place of my own. I also realize that until I can live free from fear and dependence I will never be able to know what it feels like to be at home. If home is where the heart is, homelessness is just a state of mind. Today I have some hope I might someday no longer feel as homeless as I do at home. Now I know more than ever that home is far more than a concrete structure or family property.



I will always feel a bit homeless at home. Knowing you are that which remains constant, regardless of any dreams I may have, I will never feel constant enough to bring a child into this world, despite my desire.



I envy those who feel they have so much in their lives they can trust without reservations that the world is a loving enough place to share with a child of their own. My mother told me long, long ago that I can never have children. She also told me last year I could not have a dog. My own mother does not think I am capable of raising a puppy.



Maybe she’s right- she put her fears into action when she donated my cat of 14 years to an animal shelter under someone else’s name. I adopted him back from the animal shelter 40 miles away after learning of her use of another person’s name so I could not find him on my own. I was without any ties, and here we are again.



Only a few days left to come up with a plan to take the two of us far away, to a place where we could be safe and live free.



I will not look elsewhere to find the essentials things healthy children receive that makes them healthy adults. I will never be “healthy” but I do wish I could give more than that which I’ve received. I regret not being the kind of community member I believe I could have been, and I’m not sure I will get over the sheer humiliation of having to live this way for so many years when I could have been doing many great things for society that I believe I could have accomplished.



I can’t regret needing constant reassurance, recognition, or validation. However, I will always question if things would be different if just one person took the time to show me I was worth it. To say I deserved more than that I could afford and recognize I do give so much in so many other ways.

Ways people cannot calculate, or see how badly the recipients needed my gifts. It’s the little things. It’s Cody, its Desiree- but above all, it was me.
Setting goals. The feelings knowing I was no longer subject to biannual custody disputes. The realization that homelessness is merely a state of mind. You see, it is that I doubt myself; I just don’t trust people won’t do horrible things, even if that simply means doing nothing at all.

I do have much love to give, perhaps too much. So much it often pours out of me in inappropriate sentimentality. I know when I need to keep to myself, when my anxieties start rub off on others and make them a bit anxious. I know from seeing the reactions to my anxiety, and it only makes me worse. It can be a curse; can be one of my worst attributes, but sometimes that sensitivity is a wonderful and god given gift.

Should that prevent me from getting out into the world? Just because how other people think I should be take a disliking to me? That’s not my job. I have spent more than half of my life in self-imposed isolation, and the other half wondering how I can be less annoying and high strung so others would want me around. The truth is, I am annoying, but I am also perceptive and very aware. Sometimes it is even on purpose.

I should not have to live in isolation because I have nervous tics or sometimes say the wrong thing. But regardless of what people seem to think about welfare recipients being lazy bums, guess what? Fuck you. Because of attitudes like that, I have chosen to keep to myself in case I really am so horrible to be around. So horrible my own parents think I would be better off dead.

It would be easy to withdraw. To leave everything behind and simply go live an isolated life, dismissing those around me and the constant judgment by societal standards from those who have no understanding. But, where would I go?

Ten years “down the road” and now more than ever, I realize I am truly and deeply “homeless at home.”


Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

No Hope for the Homeless: Nashville, TN [content warning]

[unedited... apologies for typos, etc]

The letter below dated April 13, 2008 went unanswered. That correspondence along with many others who just pretend I don't exist.

Now I know exactly how much I mean to this City. PAY ME TO LEAVE!!!!!

There is nothing quite so disturbing as being invisible. Yes. I am homeless. I have lived through a shooting, an assault by a security guard at a medical facility, and with no other place to go, I rented a room in a house for low income adults who are SEVERELY FUCKING DISTURBED!!!!

Now I am deeply disturbed too. I am deeply disturbed that this is the best we can do.

At least I know I need help, and when to get it. Despite being owned by a CMHA [Community Mental Health Agency] and the recipient of both state and federal funds, the only rule in this house is don't call 911. In other words, when locked out or assaulted by one of the 3 other house mates, Mobile Crisis is OFF LIMITS. Now I know better than anyone that Mobile Crisis sucks, but when you are standing beneath a 6 foot woman holding a waffle iron over your head, 911, mobile crisis, IDGAF who intervenes, just someone do something!

I called the crisis hotline the other day. In all honesty, I just had no one else to talk to, my internets had been disconnected and sabotaged, the house phone locked up. I was just lonely (and locked out during a tornado warning)

But trust me, there is nothing quite like sticking me in a house with SSPMI (super severe persistent mental illness) that make me look almost normal and and a landlord with a no-call policy against Mobile Crisis and mental health helplines.

I have lost everything near and dear to me since I first offered to participate with the local police department after the shooting downstairs. That was in February.

Next, I lose Spotty because not a single person in Nashville has enough compassion to rescue an innocent animal that I rescued from one of clients several years ago. And you wonder why I'm so angry?

PLEASE SAVE SPOTTY

http://darknightdurant.blogspot.com/2009/04/please-save-spotty.html

Don't worry, I know you want my silence, that message came through loud and clear.

You can take everything from me [actually, you already have] but you will not take my voice. And I can promise you this, my memory is long, and it is hot. Look it up assholes, hot memory.

Yeah... you did this. Now it's my turn.

Continue to sneak a peak every now and then.... your e-mails will appear on this page. Fuck you, and fuck you right back. Happy Anniversary, Elyssa. You have officially been a resident of this fine fucking state for exactly 13 years.




Kicking ass, not so much...  
                      taking names... you can bet your sweet ass I am!



[Another Unanswered letter to Metro Council]

April 13, 2009

Can you please tell me who I could speak with (preferably informally) about a situation with Section 8 and MDHA.

I have already spoken with Pat Clark, director of MDHA, and she has been an unsympathetic to the fact that there has been an ongoing problem with drugs and violence with children in the same complex.


Legal Aid / or pro-bono refused to will represent me since my parents are attorneys. They told me I would have to get the money for court fees and a court reporter from them. That just ain't gonna happen.


I am 36 years old.

I don't mean to be rude or disrespectful in any way-- you have been extremely kind and gracious towards me, I am just exhausted by this process and I think it is pretty easy to see that I am stuck between a rock and a hard place.

If there is someone in particular who works closely with the housing authority and utilities, kindly ask them if you can release their name to me(or vice versa) so I can make sure it on the record before I loose my section 8. The landlord is paid in full, but I still have to move by the 22nd.
.

Thanks so much. If there is anyone you can think please let me know. There is stigma and judgment that comes long with a person who lives in public housing, but can assure you it would not be my first choice.

Thank your discretion and assistance.

Sincerely yours,

Elyssa Durant
ed70@columbia.edu
6154248810

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Mental Health Parity NOW!

Please! Mental Health Parity NOW!!!!

Mental heathcare is a disaster in The State of Tennessee. Only to get worse by the current re-certification of The Daniels Class: 140,000 More PEOPLE to be cut since Governor Bredesen received a federal waiver for to trim the working poor of Medicaid.

I want to work. I deserve to be a contributing member of society, and forgive me for saying so, but I do actually believe I do have something to contribute.

Otherwise that is a whole lot of graduate degrees in psychology and mental health law and policy down the proverbial shitter.

PUT ME TO WORK!

Elyssa Durant, Ed.M.
Nashville, Tennessee
United States if America

http://thepowersthatbeat.blogspot.com/
http://darknightdurant.blogspot.com/

Is Poverty a Crime?

Thanks for this great site:

Though slightly off topic, it deeply disturbs me that some states finger print Medicaid, Food Stamp and Social Welfare applicants.

I was shocked to witness this first hand in New York State while I was a graduate student at Columbia. My health insurance would not cover due to pre-existing conditions and I went bankrupt (financially, morally, and in every way that counts) spending over $152,000 in student loans trying to maintain my health so I could finish my PhD in public policy. A pipe dream now... I ran out of money (and faith in the system) the last semester of my degree.

As if they don't treat those living in poverty bad enough in America, must they send an underlying message that we are criminals as well? They sure treat us that way.

Please tell me what crime I committed. I would be happy to serve my time. At least I could count on being fed, housed, and govt. healthcare!

Elyssa Durant, Ed.M.
Nashville, Tennessee
United States of America

The Greatest Gift, The Deepest Grief

It has been almost 4 months since I first posted "Please Save Spotty" and not a single person within the state of Tennessee has responded. The entire city of Nashville has completely neglected ignored this desperate pleas. Some even made jokes, or thought it was somehow appropriate to ask me for favors: campaign contributions and support, or to ask me to donate money to their campaigns. I am not a stranger to this down. I became a resident on August 8, 1996. I volunteered at the Safehaven shelter oncw a week for three year. I have spent my time supported causes and candidates tomake Nashville a better communnity for all of us. Well guess whart? I failed. Because Nashville could not be any more indifferent, apathetic or just plain cruel from where I stand.

So guess what? You are indeed stuck with me and the unbelievable debt, and none of the benefit. I won't be volunteering on your campaigns, and don't think for one second I have forgotten each and every person who pretended I was invisible. I may be invisible but I am not blind, and I see through each and every person who offered their support publicly, and turned their back in the middle of a real crisis. And yes, I do know the difference. So here you have it... without apology. Fuck you right back.

Here we go again... I wish people would care as much about their children as I do about my Spotty. So I guess this is goodbye again. I'm not stupid, and I know that I can't blame my mom for this one since I'll be the one to drive her to the shelter tomorrow.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I really hate this world.

No one gives a shit about the kids who are already here living in poverty, foster homes, on the streets, or anyway the can to survive. So who gives a shit about a few people who at least have the luxury of a quick painless death rather than having it drained out of them day by day; tear by tear, year after year after year after year?

I don't want to get rid of Spotty. I don't want her euthanized when I feel her little head nuzzled against my neck. She is not sick, she is not, and her only crime is belonging to me. What the fuck with this world. We can through puppies into plastic bags and freeze them to death because it is "easier" than "putting them to sleep."

So yeah, there you have it. I fucked up again. How ironic that the one thing I don't have is the only thing people seem to want from me. I can't wait to hear about this one. I am 36 years old. I am not a child I am not a criminal I am not cruel.

Why must they take the one thing I love-- the one thing that loves me? Does it make it all better for everybody else? Dad, I learned my lesson. I have accepted the hand I have been dealt.

If I say I'm sorry, would that make it okay for me to keep Spotty? Will someone please tell me what I need to say because I'm not sure what I did?

I'm old enough to know that nobody's coming to save me. I don't even bother to ask but why must an innocent animal who did not ask for this be the ultimat6e punishment for a sin I don't remember committing.

So where does Spotty go? To the farm with Abby & Ollie during divorce number two and custody battle number 4? Will my father mail me some fake ashes out of the fire place? Will my mommy drive her out to Suffolk County so she can use an assumed name like "Harrison" so I can't locate her? At least I found Pepe. I can only hope that one day I'll find Spotty.

Special message to two "special" people:

Mom: I hope some takes Ziggy from you. The same way you took Pepe to that shelter in Suffolk County during the darkest moment of my life. I remember what you said, and what you were told by 3 separate mental health professionals. In fact, they remember too, because they found your actions to be so far beyond the scope of rational behavior, they documented the entire thing. In fact, once Pepe was located, they kept a copy of the "adoption papers" in my medical records both as a precaution and as relevant family history.

Dad: Well, whatever. I can't think of anything care enough about to lose-- so enjoy. You win. I surrender. Whatever. I guess you'll tell what I'm supposed to do because that worked so well with my last Landlord.

Why can't live a life without empathy. I guess if you don't love anything but yourself, you will never know grief.

Well now I'm really fucked, because I'm not all fond of myself these days. Don't worry, you don't need to call parents, they already know, and they couldn't care less. In fact they'll probably bill you for wasting their time. Besides, unless you went Harvard, Yale or Princeton they give a shit what you think. So join the club.

Goodnight for now. I'm going for a drive to see if I can find a shelter for poor little Spotty.

Just remember this: Spotty didn't choose me. I chose her. So here we go again... apparently there is not a single person I know who is willing to save Spotty.

Actually, that sounds about right. I know exactly how she feels.

PET ID: SPOTTY http://www.idtag.com/lost-pet-details/id-20083

http://darknightdurant.blogspot.com/2009/04/please-save-spotty.html

I just learned on the 1st of this month that I have to move out of my apartment by next Wednesday. I hate moving.

What I hate more is that I am allowed my kitty cat named, "Spot" cannot come with me. Please help me find a good home for Spotty.

Spotty has been primarily an indoor cat for the last 5 1/2 years that she has been with me. I am quite sure she would adjust well in any probably enjoy playing in the outdoors. She likes to sit on the porch in the sun and take in the fresh air.

She is almost 6 years old, spayed, and really needs a good home where she can play and have fun! She is very active, but also very affectionate. She had all her shots but may need a booster sometime soon, but she has no pet insurance :-(

Spotty is a very kool kat. She is also very pc... neither black nor white, she is simply Spot.

When you are working too long or too late, she will let you know you need a break by curling up on the power cord right next to your pc. She loves chasing mice when she really wants attention or wants to play.

Please help me find a good home for Spotty. She deserves at least that much and I simply do not have what she needs.

Please Save Spotty! Spotty saved me.

The Bottom Dollar: How Much is Too Much for Healthcare Reform

The Ultimate Price: The Bottom Dollar in Healthcare Reform

The most recent victims of our states radical cuts from the state’s Medicaid Rolls, the –wheels are now in motion. Tennessee’s decision to eradicate yet another class of TennCare / Medicaid recipients of The Daniels Class, 140,000 social security recipients are currently in the process of being recertified to determine their eligibility for Medicaid. This waiver was requested and granted as a measure to limit the number of Medicaid recipients the state would be forced to cover under federal law.

As a result, 140,000 people like myself may the healthcare we fought so hard to obtain. The poor, the sick and the elderly. The disabled residents of Tennessee. We will now join the ranks of the other 47 million Americans without health insurance. More people that will be forced to rely upon the federal government because the individual states have failed them. Shifting the burden once again. But somebody has to pay.

So the discussion has gone round and round and round again just to find the right place to dump the costs. From private to public and then back again. Upon the shoulders our children and the conscience of a nation.

But we need to determine where and when we draw the line. We need to decide on the bottom line and just how much we are willing to gamble on our individual welfare and the health of our nation. How much is it worth. $1 Billion $7 Billion? $700 Billion? Do we value our healthcare more than our vehicles or our homes? Companies that profited by institutionalizing predatory lending bankrupting families, communities and the country as a result.

To be clear, WE ARE ALL PAYING!

I can assure you once you lose your ability to have faith in yourself to be faced with the brutal reality of the failing safety net we call Social “Security,” material belonging and personal property have lost all monetary value. And when that moment comes, you realize you have already paid far too much.

To be clear, YOU ARE ALL PAYING. Yes, all of us are paying some price.....

Where is the safety net? Where is the American Dream that I so diligently chased after for so many years? What was the point spending so much on an education that will never be utilized? I understand the how; I just don't understand why.

Elyssa Durant
Nashville, Tennessee

Elyssa Durant says :: February 11th, 2009 @ 4:25 pm EST
Twitter/theseminal

Please be sure to get the word out quickly while we still have a voice in how the money will be spent as they put finishing touches on the economic recovery package. We need to stay informed and in contact while congress decides how and where the money will be spent.

COBRA is not a viable option for most people losing coverage. We need a alternative transitional plan to help those who are at risk of losing coverage in the midst of chaos resulting from the economic crisis.

In our efforts to provide an expedient response to an urgent and growing problem, let’s not be too hasty by falling back on those systems already in place that have been not worked for us in the past.

We need a BIG fix to a broken system, and the economic recovery stimulus will not be enough. Consider the options carefully…

Elyssa Durant
Nashville, Tennessee

Charity Begins at Home: A Call to Action

Charity Begins at Home: A Call to Action

The last several days, I found myself thinking about a statement I made several years ago. In this modern era of communications, it is difficult for a freelance writer like myself to make retractions- and correct myself given that I only have a small stream of frequent readers. However, I often make mistakes whether it is an ampersand instead of a comma or an opinion statement that could be easily misunderstood. I would like to correct one such statement and set the record straight. Not just for my readers, but also for myself.

This weekend marks the beginning of what I consider one of the greatest tragedies in American history: Hurricane Katrina. This is further compounded by the potential devastation that awaits New Orleans residents when they return to the unknown losses that await them as Hurricane Gustav looms of the Gulf Coast and inches its way closer and closer to the Louisiana border.

Several years ago, I made an online statement that Nashvillians in need of benefits should apply “before the Louisiana people utilize whatever resources we have left.” In retrospect, that statement seems crass and insensitive. Now that several years have passed, I would certainly blame this disgusting war as the main culprit of domestic waste. Unfortunately, I cannot turn back the hands of time, and that statement exists— floating around for all eternity in the magical world of cyberspace. All I can do now is try my best to explain what prompted that statement and hope that those who read my previous piece will also see this retraction.

I would like to take this opportunity to explain what prompted such an apparently callous, insensitive comment and set the record straight.

We live in a country that rallies together when faced with domestic and international crises. We open our hearts, our homes, and our wallets for disaster relief here and overseas. We also live in a world where smaller crises exist everyday albeit poverty, hunger or homelessness. Such domestic problems tend to be chronic in nature and often slip under the radar. The battle lines have been drawn and we lost. We are losing. With every day that passes the casualties grow to astronomical proportions. We failed.

After Katrina, Tennessee residents took in many refugees. The local papers printed countless ads offering shelter, financial assistance, and job opportunities to “Survivors of Katrina.” After calling some of these people in response to their apparent act of altruism, I learned that these offers were only applicable to survivors of Katrina and not to local residents. I was angry.

I was angry because in the months before that devastating storm hit the Gulf Coast, there was an urgent call for people to open their homes to the 30,000 children and adolescents in desperate need of foster care. Children without a home. Children without a safety net. Our city did not respond. Our residents did not rise to the occasion and countless children continue to live in uncertain conditions without the necessities they need to thrive in this complicated, fragmented society.

After considerable thought, I came to the conclusion that the media and current policies that allow such unfortunate states of existence are partly to blame, but so too are the American people and the residents of this fine city that I like to think of as home. So why is it that we are so generous in times of urgent need by allowing pervasive states of poverty for our local residents and out children? Are they damaged goods? Are persons in poverty to blame for their circumstances? Are they too week? Are they somehow supposed to magically lift themselves out of the dark and somehow find the path into enlightenment of financial security? Is this the ultimate act of Social Darwinism where survival of the fittest means people who are fit to survive against all odds? Is it just a coincidence that the words indigent and indignant sound so similar?

As Hurricane Gustav approaches, I call upon our local residents to do more than just welcome the fleeing victims to open their hearts and their homes. I challenge each and every one of you to continue this charity after the storm has cleared. Even after the storm in the Gulf has moved past the coast and becomes another chapter in history, there is much to be done right here, right now. Do we accept the indignation of indigence and poverty with indifference? Or do we act?

We can do so much on the home front before our indifference creates a storm of domestic disaster. It is unfortunate for us that people have been too blind, too indifferent, and too complacent they do not even see such a storm brewing. But if you look, and if you listen, it is not hard to see how such a storm is brewing just beyond the horizon.

Elyssa Durant, Ed.M.
Nashville, TN