There are no labels in ICU…

Before my father passed away he spent some time in the Intensive Care Unit. 

He was assigned Bed 2 of the 5 beds that were arranged in a semi circle. The other four beds were occupied but it was impossible to know who lay under the blankets their faces covered by oxygen masks – and it really did not matter if they were male, female, black, white, beautiful, ugly, old, young, gay, straight, trans, bi, Buddhist, Christian, Muslim or Jewish.

For the most part, all 5 lay very still, the only sign of life came from the constant beeping of the monitors. The night that death came for Bed 4, time seemed to freeze for a few seconds. The ICU went completely silent for a few seconds and life was suspended for a few seconds. Then life took over very quickly and the beeps immediately got louder, more insistent, more urgent, the monitor’s lights were flashing red and the medical team was at the bedside in seconds. It did not matter who lay in the bed. When you meet death, face to face, you are not a label... you are precious life.

The labelling starts when you are only 9 or 10 years old; sometimes your classmates see in you something which is ‘not normal’, and you are labeled and you feel ashamed for being different. Most times it gets worse in high school. Sometimes, most times, the labels are purposely offensive and belittling (gay, freak, fag, retard, douche, homo, loser). Sometimes you get beaten up. 

Sometimes you tell a teacher or an adult, and you get told its only banter, you need to man-up. You try to suppress who you are and pretend to be someone else. Sometimes it works. Mostly it doesn’t. 

Sometimes you hate yourself. Most times you don’t know who you are anymore. 

You feel marginalised, isolated, depressed, ashamed, you suffer from low self-esteem. You feel hopeless. 

Sometimes you find someone who is like you. Sometimes this is good, sometimes this is bad. 

You miss school to escape the bullying. Sometimes you give up on school altogether. 

Sometimes you give up on life. Sometimes the suicide attempts are a consequence of the depression that is brought on by the bullying that is started by a label.

You push through, hoping it will get better when you are 18. Sometimes it gets better.

You come ‘out’, now the world knows your secret. Sometimes there is more shame, more labels; this time from parents, siblings and grandparents. Sometimes you find yourself all alone because your family does not want you to be a part of the family.

As an adult, you can be who you want, live how you want, love who you want.  Sometimes it’s not enough. Sometimes the shame follows you. The labels follow you.

Sometimes, most times, you are defined by your sexual identity, not by who you are. 

In the end, you are and always have been a precious life.

                                     **********************************

On UnCommon Ground is a Social Enterprise I started because of the frustration and helplessness I felt watching my son go through so much suffering during his teenage years. 

The labelling of anyone who is perceived to be different needs to be stopped. 

OnUCG's exists to support those whose lives have been affected by labelling, who are passionate about living life on their own terms and who are looking to change the status quo.

Facebook: www.facebook.com/OnUCG

Twitter:     @OnUCG

  

Reality Check ....On Grief

Grief originates when we experience a tragic event and we are expected to ‘get over it’ and ‘move on’ since ‘nothing lasts forever’, and ‘there is a light at the end of the tunnel’ and we should ‘stay strong and carry on’ because ‘tomorrow is a new day’.  Rubbish! 

It takes time (sometimes a lifetime and sometimes it just never happens) to get to grips with grief. It is not until you experience grief first hand and feel that deep painful loss (the one that changes you forever) can you know that, from that moment on, grief will shadow you forever.

Grief found me when I lost my father and over the last year, grief and I have become well acquainted. It has become my shadow. Some days it just hangs around – a dull ache just making its presence known and some days, there is no way of ignoring those raw, overwhelming, intense and all consuming waves that crush you over and over.  

On the other hand, grief puts life in perspective and it has changed me. I find that I look at the world differently, with more compassion and empathy, less judgemental, more gratitude. Most of all I don’t take life so dammed seriously any more.

Once embraced, grief gives you the freedom to love more, appreciate all that is good in life and try to live every day like it’s the best day ever.

An Un-Father's Day....

Today is a tough day on a couple of fronts - 1) it's my  first Father’s Day without my dear father and 2) the many sons (mine included) and daughters who don’t celebrate this day since they have an Un–Father rather than a father. 

Now before we go into what an Un-Father is, I want to say that not all fathers are rubbish; I was lucky to have an amazing father; my brother is a great father and there are hundreds of thousands of men out there who are excellent, loving, caring dads. This is not about you.

What are Un-Fathers, you ask?

Un-Fathers claim to love their children but they are absent from their lives; they are emotionally, unavailable "aholes" and really rubbish fathers; and they are always always busy; they choose not to be around for the milestones, they miss birthdays and their kids successes and failures, and they are never around to pick up the pieces; many of them don’t pay any child support, don’t give a shit if their kids have a roof over the heads, or food on the table. If they do bother to communicate (and that would be maybe once in a blue moon) it is probably via email.  

During their childhood and adolescence, these kids live in the unrealistic hope that their father will realise that they exist and they (the kids) will do and give anything to have a relationship with their father; but in most cases, it’s a moot point because the Un-Father is a selfish bastard who is out for himself; he has no time for anyone, especially his kids since they represent commitment, responsibility, devotion and being ever present in their lives through the good and the bad. Luckily at some stage, uncles, grandfathers and step fathers step in to do their job.

Sadly, since the Un-Father is a mutant breed, they are constantly evolving into new levels of disconnection and non-commitment.  But here’s the crux of the situation, when these kids are old enough to make their own decisions, and once they realise they don’t need that kind of person in their lives , they unceremoniously and abruptly cut all expectations of having a father and successfully move on. 

So today, if you are that man, wondering why your children did not call you for Father’s Day or send a card, it’s probably that you have gone from being a father to an Un-Father…don’t blame the kids and for heaven’s sake don’t blame their mothers,instead be happy that you finally got what you wanted. 

To all the single mums, who raised (or are still raising) their kids alone because they had Un-Fathers, keep up the great work!!!  We take on the dual roles of mother and father and despite of, or perhaps in spite of, their fathers being Un-Fathers, our kids are strong, courageous, compassionate, kind and resilient human beings.