Ever wonder how your taxes are being spent? There’s Welfare, food stamps, S.S., S.S.I., S.S.D., HUD housing and foster care facilities – Institutions that feed and house the physically and emotionally disabled, the elderly and infirm And I, being both a parasite and a writer gives me a unique perspective that emerges as an insider;

from feelings of empathy and compassion (as one of the emotionally incapacitated)

to that of enmity and loathing for my emotionally challenged peers. Even as a member of a house of five (in a foster care facility) I’m frequently surprised at the dysfunctional aptitude, mentality and emotionality of those who share our five bedroom house.

There’s Eugene, who throws a temper tantrum when the cable TV goes out; or when there’s inclement weather; From lightning and thunder, to heavy rain. And God help us when we have an electrical outage! (He has been heard to avow (Obviously in response to the power or television outage), “I’m going to kill Jesus” or, “I’m never going to church again!”) A power outage that transforms a seventy-two year-old “adult” into a traumatized seven year-old child! Eugene too, is unfortunately unabashed when it comes to his shower time – Traipsing around (albeit momentarily) in the buff – Turning the stomach of even the most fervent inveterate nudist. Eugene is a savant when it comes to numbers and dates. And what floats his boat, is finding aluminum cans (worth five cents each), caffeine, nicotine and the “Price is Right”; each in great and reliable abundance. It’s crucial that I inform him when I intend to occupy the bathroom – In particular when I intend to take a shower – So that I, or no one else interferes with Eugene’s schedule; When to shower; When to eat; When to do his chore; When to watch the “Price is Right”! Eugene, too, is in need of praise by me for simply having completed his simple morning chore; Eagerly anticipating a “thank you”, “good job” or “well done” – That curiously instills pride and dignity in the mind of a seventy-six year-old who possesses the emotionality of a child!

Douglas, our African American resident, is admittedly a former purse snatcher. Curiously, despite his opprobrious past, he appears to be to be the most normal and functional among us; Despite the fact that he picks his nose in public and unabashedly wipes the booger on the closest surface within reach! Douglas has the curious habit of running the cold water for several minutes to make it cold – Invariably directing the flow on the metallic divider of the double kitchen sink. He breaks wind whenever and wherever it suits him (including the church “pew” or while situated at the breakfast table) and he breaks into a spontaneous dance whenever the curious desire whelms him!

As far as Mitchel goes – He’s a very good natured personable or amenable compulsive liar and thief. He doesn’t know how to change a light bulb, to raise the volume on the television, nor to change the thermostat (in each case) by simply pushing a single button! He’s addicted to caffeine, nicotine, food, wine and especially gambling – Directing the majority of his welfare benefits (Once rent is paid) towards lottery tickets. He frequently eschews tasty well-balanced meals (made for us at the foster care facility) substituting a half-a-gallon of ice cream or other snacks that are high in fat or carbohydrates and very low in nutrition for breakfast and lunch – Which holds him over until dinner time. I call it “ the Mitchel Spalding diet” . He frequently urinates in public, drops his pants and underwear before he enters the bathroom; And Mitchel, too, has been known to remove food from the trash – Eating it on the spot; And has even been seen consuming food leftover in a restaurant – Abandoned on the table and awaiting disposal by employees. Mitchel frequently (Despite his denial!) urinates outside the perimeter of the toilet bowl and onto the seat; A bizarre habit he blames on “those within our household who are uncircumcised”. On the one occasion that I caught him (Having urinated all over a public toilet seat) that I was next in line to use – He inquired, “are you going to tell anyone?” Basically admitting to me that he is the anonymous perpetrator who has been urinating around the perimeter of the toilet diurnally at our foster care facility. And as with everyone who lives in our five bedroom house -Bathing to Mitchel is a major inconvenience, as such Mitchel goes through seven ounce container of “aqua velva” within a week (Obviously rather than showering.) And on the rare occasion that Mitchel does indeed shower, he announces the extraordinary event (To our female caretakers) confidently stating that he “also cleaned his penis”!

Then there’s, Louis, who is in complete denial of his mental illness and particularly of it’s severity. He has been heard to exclaim that he is a physician as well as a prolific writer; A lost soul who is unwilling to even answer fundamental questions posed by his psychiatrist with honesty and frankness; All in order that he might receive chemotherapy appropriate for the treatment of his chronic disorder. Louis, too, Is an insomniac who wanders both inside and outside the house – Talking to anyone or anything – prompted by his visual and auditory hallucinations; By morning (having wandered all night in his surrealistic world) Louis collapses onto his severely soiled bed – into an oblivious enigmatic lump. And after living with Louis for approximately five years – I can honestly say that I have never seen him bath, nor brush his teeth. I would compare Louis to “Charlie Browns” Pigpen – As such wherever he rambles – Dust, dirt and assorted refuse follows! Louis needs glasses desperately, but refuses to even visit with an optometrist. He won’t cooperate with house rules and he disrupts the relative tranquility of our nut house with the bizarre noises, laughter and incoherent rambling of a mentally ill person who has not as of yet been treated adequately with chemotherapy! Louis’ hands shake so badly that he has great difficulty lighting cigarettes and stirring hot coffee that aids him in his nocturnal ambulation; And god help those who clean the bathroom – If he dares grasp hold of his pecker using his severely shaky hand – It would no doubt have the look and effect of a high pressure fire hose that is undermanned and out of control – Coating the entire perimeter with “wet stuff”!!

Characterizing them as a whole – ” they” have been known to steal my food from the refrigerator; To clog the toilet with a singular specialized aptitude, I suppose that only a mental pygmy can be imbued with; To improperly balance the load in the washer; (And as I already stated) To lack the intellectual capacity to turn down the volume on the television or the temperature on the furnace (On each case – Simply by pushing but a single button!); To replace a burned-out light bulb; To take a rare or infrequent shower without making a mess; To complete their chores properly and with even the slightest degree of well intention; And to use the television remote to change the channel; To lower or raise the volume and God help them – To utilize the menu. Only vexing me further is the fact that for five years straight, they have repeated the very same phrases and jokes day in day out; Every morning; Every afternoon; Every evening; They have asked the very same prosaic questions; They have used the very same colloquialisms! (Do I sound just a bit hostile?)

Then there’s me. Dare I place my arrogant yet perhaps insightful

perceptions on my own emotional disorder? You bet! How do I perceive myself? And do I believe that societies investment of money and resources in me is both judicious and warranted? And what exactly has crippled a relatively intelligent, articulate individual? I simply believe that both “organized crime” and the FBI each have a vendetta against me. An FBI vendetta that has spanned decades – With the deliberate sabotage of my life. And despite my relocation, I believe an FBI contingent who has consistently spread unsubstantiated rumors about me – In the complete absence of “due process” – has transformed me into a paranoid, an agoraphobic and a suspicious, recluse. Accordingly, I never leave the property unless I’m in a van or car and never do I leave the property on foot. It is also my hope that there is safety in numbers. But the fact is – Despite my futile efforts – That I know very well that if “organized crime” chooses to dispatch me – It will simply be carried out. Yet I truly believe that they have granted me a pardon -For whatever reason – despite the arrogance I displayed in my autobiography, “On The Run”, in which I spoke (foolishly and unknowingly) disparagingly about “them.”

The second belief that factors into my illness, is that I truly believe that I’m being watched in my bedroom, the community bathroom and kitchen area; That my boring and particularly uninspiring life is being placed on the internet against my will. That my nightly speeches – Listened to by an audience who views my present circumstance and what beliefs I espouse, are somehow worthy of attention to what I believe is a distinctive minority – Some friends, some of whom are unquestionably foes.

What is the point of my rather pertinent revelations? I simply wonder how different we are as fortunate residents of a foster care facility when compared to the majority of “lost souls” (Including emotionally damaged veterans!) who wander the streets of the anonymous, dysfunctional drug and alcohol addicted homeless. People who are out of the psychiatric loop and health care system; An entire population who all too often use drugs and alcohol to self- medicate undiagnosed mental health disorders. A group of unsung inhabitants whose days are comprised of panhandling, sifting through trash, stopping at the mission for an occasional (rare) shower and thrice diurnal meals that must be coincided with an hour of rather innocuous religious indoctrination – All in order to satisfy both “physical and spiritual sustenance” – That is all too often viewed by it’s primarily secular disenchanted congregation, as an inconvenience or burden and not as a concise reverential nexus with God. Then there’s those whose undiagnosed mental illness leads them down an opprobrious path – Eventually landing them in jail or still worse, in prison. And all at a cost to tax payers in the neighborhood of thirty thousand dollars per year. Not to disregard the processing within the legal system; The trial,prosecution and sentencing; the potential damage to victims, loss of life, the cost to replace anything material in nature; And the irreparable stigmatization – Having been labeled a “felon”, a “reprobate”, and not perceived justifiably as a person who has fallen victim to a mental, physiological biochemical imbalance; An imbalance that can occur during a manic phase experienced by someone suffering from a bipolar disorder! And the fact is that psychiatric professionals know that the prison system is a storage facility for the mentally ill who are in need of chemotherapy and not a loss of freedom, chastisement, and an imprisonment in an environment that is very difficult to endure – Even for the stalwart among the prison population. An environment that does not rehabilitate, modify dysfunctional behaviors, nor does it mollify repressed anger and resentment. Moreover, it does not prepare discharged felons to fit into societal fixtures, or to abide by societal norms. They are discharged ill-prepared, all too often in the absence of employable skills, a high school and especially a college education and the inability to blend or merge into the social fabric; Including the absence of long term dependable employment that provides a living wage. They often lack the willpower to avoid or eschew drugs or alcohol; To acquire or purchase cheap, reliable transportation; And to locate affordable serene housing and in a neighborhood that reflects an upper middle class community and disposition. A neighborhood that is not plagued by drug and alcohol addiction, the roaming disenfranchised homeless, territorial gangs, decrepit, crumbling buildings, foundering small businesses, prostitutes in search of johns, hopelessness, economic and intellectual stagnation; And with the self-destructive inclination to drink and drug, to nurture a nicotine addiction – While consuming high fat, high carbohydrate food and in the complete absence of nutritional considerations.

What does it all mean? The way I see it, most of us are at least mildly neurotic and as such are able to make it through an eight hour day at work and in the absence of significant emotional adversity. Many among us – despite our personality flaws – All too often have periods of emotional stability; A state of equanimity that grants us a feeling of sublime tranquility. For the secular humanist, it is an explicable sign of emotional health. For the spiritual sectarian, it is perhaps a divine nexus with God. In psychological terms, the emotional and intellectual achievement within a feeling of peace and serenity is called “self-actualization.”

As for the seemingly ubiquitous presence of the run-of-the-mill sociopath or psychopath, their absence or deficiency of emotions, their inability to emote – Can be both a blessing or a curse. As an asset, it affords them the ability to take on prominent personal challenges, risky economic or financial investment; To engage in illicit drug sales; To participate in criminal activity, dangerous sports, precarious professions (such as stunt men or women), as well as pursuing political aspirations. Blunted affect should not be misconstrued by or confused with the average “adrenaline junky” – Whose intriguing behavior all too often manifests into a direct risk of death or injury. And it’s all in order to pursue a recreational activity and with the conspicuous search for a natural “endorphinic buzz”.

So right or wrong, I’ve concluded that the majority of members of the human race must contend with some sort of emotional or intellectual aberration – From mild or acute depression, to moderate to severe neuroses, a multitude of addictions! And on occasion, attention deficit disorder, learning disabilities, low self-esteem And in extreme cases – Psychoses! – Most of which can lead to a loss of motivation or the abandonment of a healthy pursuit of achievable goals.

So my question is, should everyone go on SSI or SSD? And how many of us satisfy the criteria for obtaining disability benefits? And how relevant is familial history? As well as relatives who too are not running on all eight cylinders? In my case there’s my mother who was saddled with a “dissociative disorder” – Otherwise known as “multiple personality”. She, too, suffered from depression, as well as a multitude of addictions. As such, she spent two years in a psychiatric hospital. My younger brother,. Joshua, completed a one year stretch in the very same institution. So one can readily conclude that we, the Gatners, have the onus and predisposition for psychological disorders. Most of us have substance abuse issues that compound already obstinate mental and emotional tumult. Mental illness and drug addiction aside, both my mother and younger brother had somehow obtained advanced degrees, to be gainfully employed, to be law-abiding citizens. So what is the primary problem with those I live with – When compared to or placed side by side with those who maintain employment, who somehow achieve advanced degrees or who accomplish exceptional goals – Despite the presence and influence of a mental disorder? I’ve simply concluded that a significant majority of those who have been diagnosed with a mental disorder – All too often suffer from indolence and torpidity; A blaring absence of motivation, curiosity and afflatus! It’s not they can’t work; It’s that they won’t!

And to those of you who are hardworking taxpaying Americans – Who have inadvertently saved my life – I am forever grateful! And it is my long term goal to reimburse “society” for my support with interest and just a bit more. Finally, I would like to make it known that I’m fortunate to live in such a great, compassionate country. We’re far from perfect, but we’re the best there is!

James Gatner, one cracked nut among five “Mixed Nuts” – With gratitude and appreciation.