Извор података: http://www.cmha.ca/bins/content_page.asp?cid=6-20-23

„Smuti pa prospi. I za Srbiju je receno da vise od pola stanovnistva boluje od depresije ili nekog oblika mentalne bolesti. A tu već pricamo o koliko, 4 miliona ljudi?”

Ко је рекао? „Б92” и њихови извори? :)

Али, овде је поента у томе како то да се тако нешто дешава у Канади, која је „земља првог света”, а то значи „најдемократскија”, „најкултурнија”, „најљудскоправашкија” и све друго нај и екстра добро?

Пустимо сада „јадну” и „бедну” Србију и Русију које су земље „трећег света” и у којима су били комунизам, ратови и честе економске кризе.

„Nerealno je ocekivati od dobro uredjene zemlje da u njoj nema mentalnih bolesti.”

А зашто у толиком проценту и зашто из ових разлога које су сами Канађани навели?

„Па, руске девојке, и то неке, значи само неке, су бар ментално и физички здраве, а и лепо изгледају, па могу да траже да се удају за кога хоће.”

Овде сам мислио на то да само неке траже да се удају за странце, а број ментално и физички здравих и лепих Рускиња је огроман, што је апсолутно позитивна ствар за Русију.

Бареш,

Родио сам се и одрастао у социјализму и могу да кажем мирне савести - хвала земљи у којој сам се родио и одрастао, јер ми је обезбедила мирно, безбрижно и срећно детињство, дечаштво и младост.

Када сам ја био у тим годинама о којима ти говориш, ја се не сећам никога да је био депресиван или да је имао било какве менталне проблеме. Цепали смо фудбал и баскет, учили нормално, то јест, много. Нисмо сами бирали предмете у школи, већ су људи који су били квалификовани за то, компетентно направили план и програм рада. Излазили смо увече у град и нико се није дрогирао. Нисмо патили од бунтовничког синдрома да се треба супротстављати родитељима у неразумној мери, већ смо слушали своје родитеље. Ако их не бисмо слушали, понекад би добијали батине и за то их нисмо пријављивали некаквим у.с.р.а.н.и.м службама које би после кажњавале родитеље, јер смо знали да су родитељи у праву и да су они светиња.

Социјализам ми је дао дивни живот.

Демократе су све то с.ј.е.б.а.л.е. По угледу на демократске в.у.к.о.ј.е.б.и.н.е од којих је једна и Канада.

Хвала социјалистичкој Југославији која ми је омогућила да се бесплатно школујем, укључујући и факултет који сам завршио. Захваљујући образовању које сам стекао у социјализму и васпитању које сам стекао у породици и у школи у Србији, никада у Канади нисам морао да цалам паре на њихове колеџе и вечерње школе. Захваљујући образовању које сам стекао у социјализму и васпитању које сам стекао у породици и у школи у Србији, никада нисам зависио у Канади од било каквог вида социјалне помоћи. Никада нисам добио отказ у Канади. Када сам напуштао предузеће за које сам радио у Канади на развоју софтвера, јер сам се селио у Русију и када сам написао завршно циркуларно писмо свима у предузећу, била ми је част да примим одговор главног газде који ми је написао, да у сваком тренутку могу да се вратим ако то хоћу. Хвала социјалистичкој Југославији која ме је припремила за такав рад.

Слава раду! Слава труду! Слава радницима! Слава социјализму!

Слава сунцу и соларном пролетаријату!

У ту част и у част младих дана, топлих, дугих...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pruPCh72B1Q

„Malo su te lemali mama i tata.”

Наравно. Али, више отац. И хвала им на томе.

Ево сад истинитих прича из обичног живота у Канади. Ово што следи је потресно и на енглеском је језику.

„Abandoned by his government, rescued by his family: a story of schizophrenia and poverty

Last Updated: Sep 4th, 2010

By Janet Smith

This story is written by the mother of a young man too mentally ill to represent himself. Our family name is disguised to protect us from harassment.

My son fell ill with schizophrenia when he was sixteen. He tried to cope by using street drugs. He got into trouble with the police right away. Our family tried to get help from counsellors and doctors but they could not find any solutions to his intense addictions.

When he was eighteen, our son tried to leave home to live independently. He failed to cope and came back home. A few years later, he was evicted from my apartment for making noise. He had no place to live. The police called an ambulance for him and he was taken to a psychiatric ward. After a few days, he was stabilized and discharged to the streets. He tried to come home and live with me but because he was not legal in my apartment, his father made arrangements for him to live in a separate suite.

Mental Health Services sent a nurse to give him injections regularly. They did not note that he could not manage a budget, did not know how to cook, could not handle money, did not know where his disability cheques went, and did not bathe or clean his apartment. I found him sitting on a sofa with beer cans and cigarettes around him. There were electric wires strung across the room. The balcony door was open and cold air poured into the suite. There were bed bugs in his bed room and there were dirty clothes all over the bedroom floor. In the kitchen, dirty dishes were stacked up and garbage was strewn all over the floor. The toilet was overflowing and there were feces (poop) on the floor. All this in spite of the fact that a psychiatric nurse visited to give him injections.

I called Mental Health Services and complained but they said they could only help him if he went in voluntarily to see them. Once again he was hospitalized. He was transferred to court for a hearing and then left to find his way ‘home’ (he had no home) in the frozen cold of dead winter. He had a cell phone supplied by his father and called me from a bus stop, where he stood shivering and terrified. Remember, this young man has schizophrenia. I called three emergency services to help him. Eventually, the police reported to me that my son had boarded a bus. He arrived at my apartment several hours later. I allowed him to stay illegally while I tried to make new arrangements for him.

Mental Health Services sent my son to independent housing, giving my husband the misleading information that a nurse would be living in full time. I soon discovered that there was no nurse. I went to visit my son and found him in the same situation—sitting midst garbage and filth with an overflowing toilet and no food in his refrigerator. My son had called me to ask for help because he was paranoid and lonely. I took food to him—the food bank was supposed to be involved but he did not know how to contact them. A home support worker came and did minimal cleaning.

I began to have a health breakdown and our family began running out of money. We had sold our house and our assets were being used up rescuing our son from crises. I asked Mental Health Services what would happen if my son had no parents to step in and help him and they had no answer. My son’s disability cheque was just over $500 a month. He spent it all on beer and had no money left for food. I alleged that the government did not care if my son died of starvation, of alcohol poisoning or of suicide. Mental Health Services stated that their hands were tied.

I finally realized that I could not trust the government to take care of my son. I had to move and provide shelter for him. He lives with me illegally, safe and free of addictions for now. But his future is uncertain. The government is closing the mental hospital where he lived safely and happily for a year. His sister cannot help him: she does not have enough money and cannot handle his behavior. His father has died and our family’s money has been drained away.

I blink and remember that this is Canada. This is one of the wealthiest nations in the world. We have thousands of paid government workers who are supposed to have the education and knowledge to help individuals like my son. They all say that their hands are tied.

I walk downtown sometimes to see who else is out there, hungry and homeless. I try to give them cash if I have some. In every face I see my son. I know that one day when I have passed away, one of those individuals on the street will be the boy I gave birth to. I live knowing that no matter how hard I try I cannot protect him from this abuse forever.

All across this country, parents’ hearts are broken because they cannot help their disabled children, either because they don’t have enough money, because they work full time or because they will die themselves soon. We cannot count on families rescuing their children forever. At some point this is a social responsibility. These are our nation’s children. We cannot just throw them away because there is no will to provide proper care for them. Apathy is the enemy. The public does not know what is happening until it happens to them.

This is a true story. These events took place in Canada between 1997 and 2010. There are worse stories to tell, about how my son almost died of overdoses….but those tales are for another advocacy mission. This story is about his poverty.”

Колико је само оваквих прича у Канади. Колико сам само пута ишао негде метроом, аутобусом или трамвајем и посматрао одсутна лица. Колико сам само пута ишао улицама Торонта и видео та несрећна, одсутна лица...

Исправка - 1981.-ве године: 964.000 деце која живе у сиромшатву (око 15%)