Sunday, April 28, 2013

mint chocolate :)







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lunch, pseudo-friend swap

I went to a strange head space Friday night and remained there through most of Saturday.  I put on a smile and kept my encounters to the socially acceptable.  It was rather easy to avoid the un-sayables [stole this non-word from one of my professors] since I wasn't around anyone I'd ever consider trusting or confiding in.  I met a friend for lunch, I'm super broke at the moment, but I felt bad for cancelling on her multiple times so I went.  I did inform her that I was in a bad place, not that I cared to discuss it, just that I wouldn't make for good company.  She was on the phone when I arrived, yelling at the on-again off-again non-boyfriend.  I went up for the obligatory, haven't seen you in ages, back pat that is supposed to resemble a hug.  She held her hand up, stopped me, and walked to the side to continue yelling at the non-boyfriend [I get that she's supposed to be my friend but I always feel really bad for him.]  We walked around as she sent what she called "really mean texts" to the non-boyfriend.  I hadn't seen her in months and we really had nothing to talk about.  She tried to interrogate me about my head space and I didn't care to talk about it, at least not with her.  I also felt bad that my world has been so all over the place and I didn't want to make the conversation all about my problems.  My problem, by the way, I'm my own worst enemy.  Not exactly an earth shattering revelation, but I'm learning to deal.  We sat, we ate, and she stared at me.  Puzzled I think.  I tried to explain because I felt it was the thing normal people would do.  I'm not sure if I didn't do a good job at explaining or she wasn't receiving the information I was sending out.  Her "advice" seemed well meaning but meant for someone else.  For those that "know me" like really "know me" it would have been almost laughable.  I tried to explain how I am and she kept stressing how unhealthy that is.  As we sat she'd put her hand on the table trying to stress the points she was trying to make.  I didn't get it and she definitely doesn't get me.  I'm unsure as to why we'd remained friends.  She did say, "I'm trying to help but you really don't want my help."  And she was completely right.  She lacked the capacity to help me because she doesn't know me.  She's a good person and always tries to go above and beyond for the people in her life, sometimes at the expense of her own personal needs.  We stood and left, walking the same way as strangers and said goodbye.

I walked into a store looking for a friend.  I didn't see her so I called her as I walked to my car.  She didn't answer.  I called another friend and it went straight to voicemail.  I ran into friend A as I passed a restaurant.  I told her I tried calling friend B.  And she informed me that they were both on the phone together so that's why neither could answer.  I walked around for a bit with friend A and she understood where I was coming from.  She gave me some great advice while holding back a bit.  If you think of life [or my world] as a puzzle, well friend A will never help me put it together.  She's a firm believer in assembling your own puzzle because it will be that much more rewarding in the end [I should probably tell my therapist about her.  That's how therapy functions for the most part, not to say that I'm calling her a free therapist.]  Her only advice, and I'm paraphrasing, was to retrace my steps to exactly where I was before I fell into the strange head space and I'd find my answers there.  I walked her back to her store and then walked to my car.  On the way I called friend B, very blunt and to the point, also a great listener.  I went into detail about my "issues."  She knows how to be honest, say something true, and most importantly get through to me.  Her answer was, "If you keep holding yourself back you can't aspire to be anything less that mediocre.  That's just how it is.  You're mediocre unless you start living."  It went on from there.  She convinced me to go to the "dress classy" party that a mutual friend was having.  As soon as I arrived we left to a bar and had girl talk.  We left the bar and went back to our cars.  I said goodbye and got real "I care about you" hugs.

Realizations
I often say that I don't have any real girl friends.  I'm a liar apparently.  I don't have any stupid girl friends.  There is a reason that I've latched onto these people for so long.  I have a select few special people that understand my world, where I come from and where I want to go in life.  They are aware of most of my issues before I ever have to verbalize them.  And they wait until I'm ready to verbalize my problems and tell me what I already knew but didn't care to face.

Friday, April 26, 2013

...

tears fall
and i feel nothing
am i dead inside
have i killed
the me-me
that i hide from every body
is she dead
gone
never to be seen again
i'm scared
the most painful
of pains
is preferred to emptiness
nothing

cried myself awake...

last night...
not sure how to process.
i'm on a brink
and terrified to make the leap.
i feel numb at the moment and its incredibly unsettling.
i swallowed tears all day today.
i regret not letting them fall.
i craved my old room
screams, yells
and the sound of the dryer
as i stared at pages
with lights on
and a fan blowing
can i escape in the wind blows
i want so desperately to give up
...
i wish i knew how
damn poetry
there's no bottom
i float in limbo
and need to keep falling
it physically pains me
i read a poem
and started to die
i need to feel something
but i've shut down...
let me come back.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Shredded pieces of Abuse...


Last year I had to go to UMC quick care for a Urinary Tract Infection (UTI) and a possible bladder infection.  One of the perks of having MS, I can get a UTI and not realize it until it’s at its worse.  The waiting room was packed.  I waited, and waited, and waited some more.  After a few hours I was brought back to see a doctor.  I explained my problems to the nurse, she was very sweet, and she instructed me to wait for the doctor. 

I waited, and waited and waited some more.  The doctor came in and instructed me to unbutton my jeans so he could examine me.  A little weird but I did as I was told. 
“Lie back on the table.” 
Again I did as I was told…
The doctor grabbed at my jeans at the waist and tried to tugged them down.  I moved his hand aside and lowered my jeans.  He did the same thing again. 
“I need to properly examine you and see if you’re having any belly pain.”
            “I’m not, but I can pull them down if you need me to.”
The doctor proceeded to press down on my belly.  Then he grabbed the waist band of my panties and tugged on them to pull them lower.  I lightly smack his hand and pull them down to expose more of my stomach.  He does the same thing again.  This time he pulled the band about three inches away from my stomach and caressed the inside of the waistband.  I move his hand to the side before his hand could touch me. 
           
The shredded pieces of the g-ma chonies I wore that day.  



               “I can do it.”
“Fine, sit up so I can listen to your heart and lungs.  You were complaining of an earache also?”
            “Ye-yess.”
“Your left ear is fine, we’ll clean out the right one for you.”
His hand lifted the back of my shirt as he put the stethoscope on my back.  I instinctively jerked forward.  He then asked me to breathe in deeply and then again.  He put the stethoscope on my chest next.  I felt this fingers and palm on my left breast. 

I don’t get what just happened. 

“I’ll be back in a few with the results of your urinalysis.”

I sat in disbelief.  The doctor returned thirty minutes  later with a more cheerful demeanor. 
“You have a bladder infection all right…” 
He continued to ramble and something changed in me. 
“Do I have to sign something?  Can I get a prescription so I can go?”
“Umm…okay, I’ll prescribe-“
“Okay are we done here?”
“The nurse will be in shortly with your discharge papers.”

The doctor left, the nurse came back and I kept getting angrier and angrier at myself. 

Today I would react differently.  I was a much weaker version of me at that time.  I’ve been in therapy for over a year now and I feel stronger.  I’ve heard people use words like courageous and brave when referring to me.  I kind of like it.  Maybe I am courageous and a little bit brave too.  I have many issues with past abuses that I’m dealing with.  At times I compare my past to others and think stop whining it could have been worse.  I’ve learned that it’s unhealthy to compare abuse and if it was a big deal to me, then I need to deal with it so I can move on at some point. 

Every doctor, with the exception of this one, has always talked me through the examination step by step.  They’d ask me to lift my shirt so they can listen to my lungs.  When checking my heart through my chest, I’d feel the stethoscope and they held it carefully, never to touch my skin, and apologize if they did.   If , on rare occasion, they needed to have me lower my jeans to check my belly, I was always asked to do it and I’ve never, ever had a doctor take such inappropriate liberties.  Fuck you.  Fuck you for violating the trust of a patient.   Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you.  

One day I'll work through my issues with men.  I can't fear all men because they aren't all to blame for what I've endured.  This stronger me won't let anything like that happen again.





Saturday, April 13, 2013

the Dinosaur...





I miss the dinosaur

he was never mine

he was never real

he was glorious
           
in my eyes

large                 green                long

 wis[con]sin

mask
           
lies in scars

battle wounds
           
a lifetime of fighting

survive

endure 
           
            persist

I was an eager student
           
his overflowing well

knowledge

—live   your     dream

make                it                      a                      long                  one—


I           miss                  the                    dinosaur

He        was      never    mine




           
He        was      never                real




I miss the dinosaur


I           am                    a                      dinosaur


                                   

I am real

Thursday, April 11, 2013

"a dream is a wish your heart makes"


To Annette 

“A dream is a wish your heart makes”
                                    Cinderella (1950)


hope died
in light

ten years ago

haunted
spirits

drift                 from                bodies

trapped
victim

a wish



a dream

in vain
drunken slurs
                                    we judge

dye walls purple

spare tires
 garages          
           
attached          tails of cars

                                    we judge

tales                 of         wishes
           
dreams unchanged
un-chased


maps give directions
which way to heaven?

can you            walk                 there?


are you free?
do you smile with God?
is your pain gone?



are there trees in heaven?


can you climb mountains without falling off?


do…



you better be careful
you won’t be able to dance any more





can you dance now?






can                   you                  dance?



can       you      dance?






I want to dance

Monday, April 8, 2013

the wind blows


the giant stomped
through the garden
crushing, breaking, bending

he was as tall as trees

stalks of grass lie flat
leaves whisper
the wind blows
set them free

he eyes the flower bushes

roses lilacs and daphnes
reduced to dust
the wind blows
the giant sneezes

he chases the clouds

trucking through the flower beds
daisies tremble
watching his approach
mangled poppies and pansies

await
the wind blows

the giant picks daisies
and plucks their petals
she loves me
she loves me not

daisy after daisy
he drops
stem after stem
and daisy after daisy

the end always the same
she love me not

the giant cries


he screams
he stomps
the daisies bend under his feet

they spring up unaffected
as his tantrum continues
the giant kneels

one by one

he starts at the stem
and forces the daisies back
into the soil
carefully

he covers the land
where they once grew
down to the last
she won’t move

he tries to pull her stem
pluck her petals
crush her in his palms
she doesn’t waver


the giant digs
one last tug
pulls at her roots
her stem falls

a large gust of wind

the giant sneezes

watching the daisy
float in the air
she gets smaller
in the distance

the giant cries

the wind blows