To little, too late

Scream, cry, shout, cannot take this anymore
Thrash, crash, bash the walls and doors around me
Falling unto knees, grasping fistfulls of grass in each hand yanking as hard as you can while the world continues all around.
The world spinning at a mind numbing pace ignoring you, ignoring the pain.
Reaching out for someone to take your hand, anyone, anybody. Nobody offering help, offering their hand.
To love someone and finding that you don't love enough or the proper way. You find your finger tips just grazing, not lingering.
Aching, throbing pain, tears that seem endless. Feeling your heart grow away, the hole growing deeper, wider, for an unrequited love.
Knowing all that you want cannot be had, for each carry a part that would fill that hole.
Standing in the rain, thunder masking your screams, lightning briefly showing the pain on your face, fists clenching tighter, nails drawing blood. Which way to turn to now? Falling back into the abyss, darkness and cold your only companion. Mind and heart growing numb, pushing all that hurts down, down deep into a ball like a kidney stone.
Continue the charade, masking, smiling, hiding what you truly desire, burying the pain so well no one would even guess the depths and level of the pain.
Many attempts to end the pain forever, fail, unknown as to why each attempt fails.
Just crawl out of the dark, dreamless sleep, force emotions down like a daily pill. Pulling clothing on peice by peice, trying not too think, just going through the motions.
Walking out the door, you take pause, look back to see if your body is still there, in that dreamless, darkness that wraps you up like a favorite blanket. Alas, life must go on.

It has been a long while since my last post, so off we go again - lets hope I remember.

Time goes by

Time goes by
into the darkness we all must travel
Time goes by
Into the light we must find our paths
Time goes by
all inflictions must be forgiven
Time goes by
all memories must be kept in their proper place
Time goes by
all hurt must be analyzed and shelved
Time goes by
All lessons must be learned - good and bad
Time goes by
Time to forgive
Time goes by
Time to heal
Time goes by
Time to move on
Time goes by

A prayer to Death

To me, Death is the one thing that most people around me are inclined to whisper.

Very much similar when cancer was the word no one would say out loud for fear that it might either condemn that person or it was supposed to be a secret. In our current society, we have become so comfortable with a variety of words. Words that most people just ten years ago would have rather whispered, or found another word to describe the situation.

I have become uncomfortable with both the crassness, depravity, and the outright boldness of our current society. We talk about things that are best left behind our front doors, best left behind our bedroom doors and even best left in behind the exam room at our doctors' office. We talk about these things as if we were discussing the weather. So common that the impact seems to have lost its footing.

Death seems to be a very common thing lately. In my life, it is a common thing as of late. Most of my life was spent praying, hoping & looking for Death to take my hand, guide me into the next life or even to Heaven.

Now that I seem to be lost once more, questioning all that has been, is. Almost as if I were on a raft adrift in the vast ocean. Knowing that while the day seems warm, the nights become so very cold. The night not only brings the cold, with it comes the hunger, the thirst. Soon madness threatens to overtake your senses. The knowledge that you are surrounded by water and yet cannot drink becomes maddening.

For me, I have been lost in this last decade. I have been forced to re-evaluate my priorities, goals, and my beliefs. Right along side that I have been forced to re-think my stand on alot of topics, accept what most certainly has become my new future. Undoing what has been. My faith certainly tested time and again. My constant prayer these days is to let me leave this life. Let me out of the contract early as it were. I cannot keep these feelings buried any longer.

Funny thing, when I broach the subject to others that I think, hope are understanding, I end up feeling like a fool while those folks tell me that I am simply depressed. While that may be true on some level, I know what I feel. I have been dealing with depression most of my adult life. This feels much different. To me, I can think clearly, rationally, and focused on what I need to accomplish. That does not mean that I can silently pray for death. Death to take my hand like an old friend that I have not seen in such a long time. Reassuring, comforting, this friend understands, never criticizes, accepts what is, has been.

Over the last few years I have been tired, physically, emotionally, and definitely spiritually. The first two are easily remedied. Such is our world now that we can medicate and over medicate ever one that may or may not have a few problems that are needed to be dealt with. Never mind that in decades past the only options were to either talk & deal with it or to bury those pesky emotions. I am sure that there were medications for these things in the past, so was a lobotomy. We have become a society of convenience. Nothing seems to be worked out. Recently, I have become aware that even the psychiatrists have changed their roles. They now are basically a legalized drug dealer. You show up once or twice a month, they give you drugs. How much more easier can this become, pray tell?

The doctors try as they might to sell you on the 'great' things this pill, procedure, device will do for you, all the while failing to mention the obvious shortcomings, the negative, or even the nuances that are very different to each and every person that come to these things.

So suspect has my view become, I can find much more negative things than positive things in just about anything. I liken it to my becoming so desensitized towards things that really should hit me deep in my soul. So desensitized we, as a society, become that we are not really bothered by people dying. We assume that if it does not directly affect our daily lives, it does not matter.

So disgusted have I become that I fear I may go mad trying to keep from crying, screaming at the things in this world that should matter to everyone.

For me, I am now spending time looking for my way out of this life. Suicide never becomes the answer. Though, having said that, there are times during my daily life that this doesn't completely disappear from my peripheral vision. So frustrated I have become with the pain, the pain I can no longer control, feels as if it will swallow me whole with no trace left behind for others to even know that I was here.

So bad does the pain get that I call into question whether or not that this pain is real or imagined. After a night of little, restless sleep I know that there is no denying the truth; the pain is very real. My head spinning from exhaustion, emotional absence and faith that seems to be tested at just about every turn.

I cling to my faith as if it were a life raft in the ocean that I have been adrift. I cannot begin to tell you what my Lord has planned for my life. I find some reassurance in the knowledge that I would not be going through all of this if not for the lessons that I most certainly need to learn.

My soul cannot grow in service of the Lord if there are no lessons to be learned. Knowledge to be gained so that others can also grow from your experiences. Hoping that others will have an easier time with the same things that I have already gone through. Learning from my mistakes, emotions, and growth in service of the Lord.

I would feel absolutely disgraced if I could not share my lessons with others. So frustrating it becomes when I have to watch others suffering and struggling with things that they do not need to. I can only offer my help, then I must remain silent for knowledge is only part of the battle.

Getting through certain things, I must believe, helps others grow in the service of our Lord.

So ready am I to welcome the calm, reassuring hand of Death that I am trying to find the path that will lead me first to Death then to our Lord for me to explain, share and be comforted.

Explaining my choices, decisions, emotions. Explaining to my God & Mother God why I did not choose to fight in the end. Explain why I silently waited for the hand of Death to guide me into the eternal slumber.

Share the lessons that I have learned, the paths I have chosen to take, the people that I have touched and have touched my life. Share my love for God & Mother God with everyone else. Share my emotions, the full spectrum, everything tear, laughter, heartache and the deep sadness. Share the memories that I have created. Share every choice that I have made whether conscious or unconscious, every thing.

Find the comfort that seems to have eluded me my whole life. Surrounded by the love and light of God & Mother God. Find the comfort in those that have long since left this life behind.

So cynical have I become that I fear that I may not be of any use to others. So tainted have my views become I fear it becomes poison for others. I pray for guidance, for something positive to cling to. I search and search for the positive that I can only find negative. Seems like an old saying; if you do not wear sunglasses you might miss the details while blinded by the sun.


In the still of the night, my prayer to death rings loud and clear like a pristine, crystal bell chimes in the daylight on the end of a confidant hand. My prayer for death to take me by the hand, guide me into the silent slumber that my soul needs very much. Guide me to the answers that my mind needs. Lead me to my God & Mother God.

Silent Running

Sometimes I wake with a jolt.

Out into the lamp lit room I stumble from yet another dream that seems to be fading as the seconds tick by, as the breathing quiets to a normal pace, as your heart returns to its rhythm. Silently your grapple to hang on to the dream, clutching desperately to each part you catch.

Sometimes I wake with a jolt.

My arms & legs flailing madly. Sweat covers my body from the tip of my head to the tip of my toes. Somehow you know that you have been silently running - again.

Deep inside a feeling starts off as instinct, that deep pit in your gut that tells you that something is amiss. Yet for the sake of my sanity I ignore it. That feeling has started to blossom into more than a gut instinct, it makes you feel that butterflies have taken refuge in your gut. Something is really amiss.

All the while that feeling blooms, it silently seems to be running into a full fledged panic attack. For my sanity I try to quell the feeling that things are worse than they appear. Something so out of whack that you think that even the animals around you seem to know & share the same feeling.

Burying those feelings often get me into trouble. Sometimes I cannot help it. I can bury so many things at one time before they start to over flow & seep into both my conscious thoughts & haunt my dreams. Sometimes waking me with a jolt.

I often wonder how this will play out. I know that I cannot fight in the same way that I know and seem to trust. For in this situation, that will not work. I am on unsettled ground. As if I were standing on the ledge of an abyss and the ledge is turning into quick sand. I know both in my gut and bones that I will have to take the fall that I dread. For the fear and panic have been quietly replaced with uncertainty, hopelessness and a small sense of anger.

How do I proceed when there is only lies and half truths? How do I safely acknowledge what my feelings are? How do I continue when I cannot move & think when the panic & hopelessness threaten to overwhelm me? How do I plan for the future when it seems to be a distant pin point of light?

Perhaps I shall lie down in the field of clover & roses. Pray for the dawn to safely rescue me from yet another dismal dream that fades as quick as my heart beats. Pray for guidance to help with the fear and panic. Pray that the light will always make my path bright, to safely avoid those pitfalls and trenches that seem to be at every corner in my path.

Hopelessness......... Hopelessness cannot be avoided. Spinning around in circles so fast that everything is a blur. Silently I scream out in a dream. A scream that is so loud within my head that I am almost certain every one can hear the same. My tears are starting to dry up. I fear that I may not have enough left for future needs. The feeling in my gut, those butterflies are turning into a heavy stone. A stone wedged within the core of my being.

Uncertainty.......... wavering towards acceptance. The path has become deeply shadowed in spots. Uncertain as to the direction to take. Fearful of what may lie ahead. Uncertainty becomes a cold sweat popping out at my hair line, my arm pits and my crotch. The smell that accompanies the cold sweat starts to become overwhelming.

Silently I pray for death and understanding as I am silently running in my dreams. So tired now. So tired am I now that motivation seems too big a task. Daily things start to suffer, as the strain bears down on my shoulders like a boulder. What shall I do? How shall I accomplish these things that must be completed? May the good Lord above take my hand, lead me to the path of peace. Grant me sanctuary in the cold, unforgiving light of the day. A daylight so bright that I fear everyone can smell the fear. So bright that I fear my every secret will be publicly shown across my face and eyes. Like my mother when she hung out window my bedroom sheets when I wet the bed. So humiliating that I think I may never be able to overcome what has been, is.

So until that day when I can look back, breathe a sigh of relief, I will continue to have dreams that jolt me awake. Waking with a jolt, flailing my arms and legs in silent running.

Scream

Silently you are screaming. Your mind racing, thoughts become a blur. You are not sure what is reality, what is insanity.

Deeper into the darkness you tumble. Somehow you have found the deep dark pit; again.

Flailing

Gasping for air

Clawing at the walls

Your voice seems to be so far away as you try to get someone to help you out of the madness that threatens to overwhelm you.

Suddenly your mind begins to play tricks on you as your body crashes to the bottom of the pit, your mind disengages, separates from the pain in your body.

In your mind flashes of that day become a home movie from your perspective. You see all that again trying to garner a grain of knowledge.

You struggle to tell yourself that you are making much more out of what was, is.

In your mind you see them, ignoring all others around them. Friends that once meant more than family have become a distraction.

The depression quickly overtakes the anger, the desperation, the hurt.

Suddenly, through your minds eye you see that you are making a complete ass of yourself. You quickly think to your self all the ways to end the stupidity.

You constantly remind yourself that you are the reason for the sudden onset of hurt, anger and truth be told; jealousy. Jealous of what has been is no more. Jealous that your importance to that person has diminished.

You struggle to let part of that person go, to allow them the freedom to do as they please regardless of the hurt that they may cause.

Silently your fear grows, fear that they may find someone else to take your place. Fear that you will end up alone. Fear that your thoughts are following the path of what ifs'. Fear that you may actually want to abandon all that was, is & might be.

Depression settles in deeper, quickly taking over your mind, your soul. A depression so deep that it sears your soul. Making you fear that you will never find a way out, fear that you may not want to find a way out.

On that fateful day you quickly realize that for all of your planning, this was a stupid idea. You watch that person pacing, anxiously waiting for that someone to show up. When they do, you watch them disappear with out so much as a word. Without acknowledging those others as they show up with high intentions of fun, food and to visit with us.

On that fateful day, you find yourself running ragged between the groups of visitors, trying to make them feel welcome. Increasing are your feelings of abandonment, anger & hurt. Things start coming to a head when you find your self having to tell people a small lie when asked where that person was.

On that fateful day your body quickly reaches the threshold of pain, quickly becoming a major distraction. You start feeling more betrayed than ever.

All to soon the feelings start bubbling up to the surface, you become cranky. Things are becoming blown out of proportion. You try to make that person hurt as they have hurt you.

In your mind, you try to stop your behavior. To get a grip on those emotions.

You quickly become quiet, trying to sort things out in your mind; to acknowledge the pain, to put things in the proper 'light'.

As time progresses after that night, hurt, jealousy quickly add scared to the mix. Scared that you have not been in this position for a very long time. Scared that if these feelings continue you might end up leaving.

Very slowly your mind reconnects with your body. Slowly the pain comes back. Pain that quickly builds. Becoming a searing white light.

Your thoughts resume their destructive path. Silently you cry, scream. You try to put things in their perspective place. Struggle to bury those feelings of hurt. Bury the jealousy. You try to find some inner strength to smile. Every thing will be fine.

Deep down you know that things are not as they should be. You know that you must, for the sake of your relationship, push things deep down. Pretend that everything was your fault. Take responsibility for all the problems. Find some excuse to get 'over' this & move on.

Your mind wakes up to reality. Looking up you see light, hope. Very slowly you struggle to pull yourself to your feet. Find a path toward that light.

As you make your way toward the light, you look back, realizing that a part of you still lies there upon that dirt floor, curled up in a ball. You know that you must leave that part of you behind. If you turn back to retrieve it, you know that you could cause everything else to crash and burn.

So, with great sadness, you turn back toward the light and make your way into it. Still searching for peace.

A small thought forms in your mind; you wonder how many 'parts' of you can you leave behind like that? You wonder when all of this will finally take it's due payment.....

Soon.

Good Night

Hopelessness washes over the body; like rain in the spring; at first, a few drops land on your head, then those drop land on your arms. A sprinkle quickly turns to a steady down pour.

At first the rain feels good, cleansing. All too quickly you are getting soaked from head to toe, a chill sets in racing to steal the very warmth from your bones, making your teeth chatter and you run for cover.

Hopelessness washes over the body, quickly stealing your sense of confidence, causing you to question all that is, has been & yet too come.

Hopelessness washes over the body, forcing you to feel overwhelmed, spinning out of control, as if you had any control prior to this.

Into the darkness you fall, faster & faster, reaching, grasping for anything to stop the free fall, reaching for any hope, guidance to the light.

Cursing all the good in the world, all the bad.

Crashing into the bottomless pit, awash in self pity, awash in guilt. How could this have happened? What can I do to stop this madness?

All you can do is lie on the bottom looking up, around & down at your body; MOVE NOW your mind screams. Your mind grappling for control, balance.

Crying, screaming into the eternal darkness, thrashing, bashing against the hidden barriers that confine you.

Your voice going hoarse, your flesh quivering, goose bumps rise in the darkness & look to consume your flesh from head to toe.

As you lie in the bottomless pit, your voice gone, the shouts long since having faded, your fists bloodied, the flesh of your heels having been ripped away in anguish & torment.

Hopelessness begins to devour the unconsumed flesh, your tears have long since dried, the dry heaves having finally quieted.

Very quietly you lie there, frozen in place, unable to move. Your heart thundering so loud that it threatens to deafen you. Your mind finally accepting what is, has been, & to come.

Your mind finally accepting the darkness, the sense of hopelessness.

Very quietly you hear a whisper, almost so soft at first you think that your mind is rapidly losing what ground it has left.

The whisper grows louder, your heart seems to stop in anticipation. Your flesh grows quiet, your breathing grows shallow.

The whisper continues to grow loud, "What is that I hear?" "Whose voice do I hear?"

Finally the whisper has become a shout, so loud that you fear it will continue to bounce off of the dark barriers that threaten to contain you forever.

All to soon, you turn your head, at first to the left, then to the right. Confusion settles in, the direction of the voice is unknown, yet all around.

You finally manage a very hoarse scream, all to soon the voice stops, the darkness quickly rushes in to reclaim it's prize.

Your mind accepting that the voice was only an hallucination, it was not real.

Hopelessness washes over your body once more.

Your eyes begin to close, your body curling up tighter & tighter into a ball. You want to make your self so small that you will never be hurt or make those mistakes again.

Your breathing begins to slow, your heart seems to slow. So slow have these become that you fear you may never hear those sounds again.

Your mind, finished playing tricks, starts to accept what your will tells it.

You begin to accept & find comfort in the darkness.

You find your self welcoming it, the eternal darkness. Quietly you move your arms outward as if to welcome it, the eternal darkness into your arms.

Somewhere it occurs to you that there was help all along, this did not have to happen like this.

That voice was your saviour, trying to help you, trying to give you another way out.

So quietly you mentally brush these thoughts aside and take that final step outside your body.

Never once looking back.

Never caring anymore.

No more tears

No more pain

No more hurting others

No more haunting memories

No more emotions

No more thrashing

No more, No more, No more.

It is done.

Finally

Time to flee

Often we tell ourselves that everything will work out, things will get better. Much to our dismay, things often do not get better. We often are forced to navigate a new course.

Now, here I sit. Thinking that things will finally get better. Oh how I have illusions of the way things should be. All to often I am wrong.

Forced am I to confront the very things I am in fear of, fear of rejection, fear of abandonment, fear of the unknown. Previously I had a handle on these things, sure I can be insecure at times, though, I think that it is to be expected. Now that I have had two major surgeries, these things come to the forefront & demand my attention. Starting anew & stronger than previously.

When I had my first surgery I had heard that people can develop image problems. Meaning that they do not feel attractive, less of a person than before the surgery. I balked at those thoughts, thinking that these will never happen to me. I am stronger than that. HA! Boy had I deceived myself. I went merrily down that damn primrose path thinking that I will be better than before. Than I noticed that the scars were not fading, they were bigger than I was told. Now my mind started thinking that the scars of the first surgery were like a neon sign shining it's beacon of light for all to see. Rational dictates that this is not reality. Just when I was thinking that these emotions were becoming a thing of the past, I had another surgery. This time I was told that the scars would be minimal. Never mind the machine that is not a part of my body. Every minute of every hour of every day I am reminded that I will never again be whole. I will never be as attractive as I once felt. Shame, sickness, depression all start to settle in. These things are not rational, I am well aware. How do I make love to the love of my life with these scars, machinery?

I can only look to the future, pray for guidance & accept emotional support when offered. If only I were not so damn stubborn, independent, & emotionally caged. These are the things I must accept and attempt to change. I feel as if every action, emotion or physical will be scrutinized. That I must live up to my 'share' of things, to make up for lost time as it were.

These past ten years have really been both a struggle & a balancing act. Hit with quite a few major things early into these past ten years, knowing that I had to be strong for others to lean on, clean up the mess as it were. Just when I thought that things were on the upswing, WHAM! another mess to deal with, again & again this happens. So continues the path of life that has become all to familiar for me in this life.

From an early age, I have been forced in one way or another to change my direction. Learning to overcome the fear. Learning how to bury things so deep that it appears I am emotionless. Building barriers to barricade those feelings, keep them from stumbling to the surface. I have learned the hard truth; I need to be the one person that is strong for everyone else. Time and again this has been proven to me through the actions and words of others.

When the time is right, I will know deep within the core of my being, then and only then will I hold my head high and acknowledge that it will be time to flee.

An Orphans letter

I sit here pondering what I should enter. So many things rush through my mind. My heart quickens with anticipation of letting go of some pent up emotions. Though the fear & shame rips through my heart. So many other feelings enter my heart, threatening to cinch it up tighter than a rope. Though a melancholy smile crosses my lips as I think of those things that I have loved dearly & are no more.

It used to be so easy, not feeling the highs & lows of all that we call emotion. Once upon a time I became to good, almost a master, at building walls, burying my emotions so deep that there was nothing left to do except smile that fake smile, swallow hard and say to those who bother to honestly ask, I am fine. Everything is great. All the while I scream so loud inside that I fear something will find it's way out. It never does.

Once upon a time I became so good at denial that even when I had a mild nervous breakdown, I picked myself up, dusted those pesky emotions to another corner & smiled.

Once upon a time, any hurt that came my way was either blown completely out of proportion or buried so deep that I wondered if it would hurt when I finally gave in to those tears that seem to be always just beneath the surface.

Time goes by as it always does. I see how others live their lives, sometimes with a deep sadness, sometimes with joy. The bruises on my soul seem to recognize another's sorrow, pain.

I often have wondered what life would have turned out like had I had parents that were there to comfort me, kiss my bruises. Parents that always looked at me with that unconditional love. How difficult it is sometimes to look into a mirror. I see my mother in some of my features. I see my mothers brown eyes, my mothers hair etc.

Instead I had an absent father who was a chronic alcoholic & had some deep scars of his own, both from his life and from fear of retribution from a woman whom never really loved him.

I had a mother who never believed in hugs & kisses. Her three children were raised in fear. The mother whom never had a good life, though once there was a chance to find happiness in her childhood, yet, she turned her back to it & all the hope that emanated from it. My mother was a very angry woman. My mother showed her love through the many bruises & scars that she inflicted. She had different ways of raising her three children, mainly to instill distrust among the three sibilings. She once claimed to me that she had to do those things so that we wouldn't 'gang' up on her. We were not taught respect, rather to fear adults. We were taught to never tell the truth about our lives, and were taught to tell her what she needed & wanted to hear. In our lives we had to constantly lie to our mother & we were so miserable that we found ways to insert truths to other adults about how our lives were.

Our little lives were so complicated that I am most certain that most adults today could never have the inner strength to deal with it & carry a smile on their faces. I am not saying that we are any stronger than others, just that we were 'conditioned' over time to accept this as our normal lives.

As a boy I was taught to be tough, never cry, never show emotion, always fear the next fist that could come flying from out of now where to make me see stars. If I cried or showed emotion I was hit several more times. I became so good that when I was hit by a car I couldn't cry. My only thought was not the concussion or massive cuts but was making my mother angry. My mother showed pride to whomever offered help. Unless she really wanted help than it was different. One of the things I remember that fateful day was telling people that drove me home not too tell my mother what happened.

So many lost opportunities as a child. I never had parents to teach me how to tie a tie, ride a bike, swim or even help me prepare for prom. So many missed opportunities for my parents. They have missed how my life has turned out despite their absence. Missed the six grandchildren that will never get to know them. Missed the college graduations, first cars, I could continue, but why? What in the hell would be gained from that? NOTHING.

My father has long since died, my mother is presumed dead. I have not seen my mother in almost fourteen years. I think I have a closer relationship to my father now that he is dead & his remains are in my cabinet.

Sure, we had grandparents to help fill some of those voids. Though that also turned very ugly. Abuse never has a lighter side. Abuse tends to destroy the innocence, open our eyes to very ugly, dark truths. Make us cynical, never positive.

As a matter of fact, the only immediate living family has very little to do with my life. Sure, I know how to contact them, though they have lives of their own & not too mention the fact that when I see or talk to them I am reminded of a life that seems so long ago. A life where I had to work as a child so mother could keep partying, to work to help supplement the welfare checks.
A life so long ago that it seems as if it were a very bad nightmare that has once started to fade until something happens that threatens to suck me right back into the darkness where the light seems so far away that I fear that I will never be able to touch it once more. A life so long ago that it is hard to believe that as a child of six, then turning seven and all the way to age of fifteen where a very common prayer was to die, for God to take me away from the mess that seemed to be my life. So common was the prayer that it became a mantra, something to chant over & over. Something to close my eyes & pray that God would take me away or at least help shield me from the landing blows that became so much of daily life that to distinguish between the dirt, bruises & real color of my skin were almost impossible.

It really doesn't take much for me to remember things that have long since been buried within the deepest recesses of my soul. Sometimes it is a smell, sometimes it is a song. Or sometimes it is something so innocent like being called for dinner. As a child when our mother cooked (a rarity at best) we had a ritual that our mother started; she would call us for dinner, our plates were lined on the table. Before we could take our plates we had to thank her for the food, our lives etc... sometimes when I least expect it I find that fear coiling in the pit of my stomach. The stale sweat that seems to pop out on my face & chest.

I look at my life now & think that it took a lot of hard work to get to where I am at. It would have been very easy to end up in a life of self loathing, self pity. Just do nothing with my life. So easy to just disappear from society. Instead I fight to make something of myself. To turn myself into someone who is worthy. Though the worst enemy is myself. Those old mantras of our mother keep echoing in my brain; "I am no good, I will never amount to anything." Not too mention those others that are really to painful to speak of... I find myself struggling to over come & then self sabotage...

A letter to my parents, a long time ago, a therapist suggested that I sit down & write a letter to my parents. This turned out to be easier said than done. When I was (I think) all of fourteen or so, I tried to do just that. The amount of anger that was inside surprised me. Threatend to overwhelm me. I had no clue that I had so much anger. As a child of twelve or so, my parents were stripped of their rights to me. I hoped, prayed that they would come to the courthouse & fight the system to get me back, that things would change. Instead, nothing did. No parents showed, no hope, not even a seed. I find it ironic that I remember the one court appointment that my mother actually showed up for. I heard her before I saw her. Fear I felt that day was so strong that I thought I would actually be sick. Shame that I knew somehow she blamed me for my situation. Shame for making her come to the courthouse. I knew on several levels inside that if she & I were alone she most likely would take it out on me. That's why I have never let her be alone with me. I think that when I actually allowed myself to be alone with her for the first time was when I was sixteen & felt so much shame & anger that I did not allow myself again until I was in my mid twenties. To this day, I still feel that fear of her. Though, that fear has now been tempered with pity and anguish. I have come to pity her, the choices that she has made, the pain that is all her own. The anguish that I feel is for the mother that I wanted, for the mother that she never was, never will be. One of the last times I saw her, I was shocked that I was now the adult & she seemed to have become the child (in a matter of speaking). I was shocked that at her age she tried to be friends with me, though I still do not think that she even understands what that entails.

So as my teenage years were spent in one foster home after another, with one therapist after another, one school after another, I never knew how a real family should act, how to participate in the daily lives of another family. In the end after yet another argument with yet another foster family I left on my own. At the time I felt that I could do better with my life. I did. Though to this day I still struggle with what should be simple things. I struggle to keep emotions in check, struggle to learn how to be a member of my household. Struggle to let others in, to let others help me when I need it or ask for it. Struggle to keep compulsions buried. I know that I have lived longer than I had anticipated. I always thought that if I lived to adulthood that it would be a huge miracle. When someone asked me as a child what I wanted to be when I grew up verbally I made up something on the spot that I thought they wanted to hear, once, just once, I answered that question that I wanted to live to eighteen. When my mother found out, my life almost ended right then.

Now as I aim towards another decade, I must struggle to form some sort of plan for this next decade. I must form a plan for the next year, month, week, day etc. I must allow someone in side my heart, allow others to see potential in me. I must struggle not too over compensate, not too bend over backwards to make friends, struggle to accept the fact that not every one will like me. Struggle to keep the tears, fears in check.

I will get by with my faith as strong as a boulder, my faith will be my armor, my sanctuary, my hope.

Through faith I will have hope, through hope I will have a healthy love.

Sing the song

Running through my head are the images of things long gone, like an old album, static, white noise so are the images. Not entirely clear, distorted with time, the passage of life no longer lived.

Songs are the instument of memories. Some say that memories are linked to smell, in my life this has become true, as well as music. Music has the tendancy to reach deep in my soul, wring out the momories, cleanse my soul.

Songs are something to cherish, something to take in your hand, dance the long dance that becomes one with songs.

How does one change the song tied to memories? or perhaps change the smell tied to memories?
You cannot!
Never will you be able to associate those smells or songs to something else.

Death will be the only way to change what was, what is.

How does one accept the knowledge that death is near? Perhaps they have, perhaps the fear changed into a different song of sorts. The fear of what happens after death.

Dance into the darkness, fear not the memories, rejoice in the ones that make you smile.
Life is what you make of it, or so I am told. Sing the song that is in your heart.

Darkness

Stumbling, tumbling, thrashing, crashing. Crying, screaming, wailing.
I cannot keep a clear mind, cannot make a decision.
My heart is breaking, over & over again. Once more the scab is ripped off of an old wound.

How do I make up my mind when there is so much chaos? How do I make peace with things when my soul feels agitated? I have been down this road many times before, perhaps not exactly the same, similar nonetheless.

How can I do what I need to do? Crying, screaming, wailing.

How does one start the process? How does one end the process?
Stumbling, tumbling, thumping, thrashing, crashing.

Want to run, want to hide, curl up in a ball, cover my head. Hide in the darkness, never to see the light again. Hide in the darkness, why does this feel so hopeless? Helpless, angry, frustrated, hopeless.

Dry my eyes, live with choices I have made, enter the light on my own. Find comfort in the light, feel the warmth on my face, in my soul.

Take several deep breaths, take several steps forward. Don't look back, don't think about what has become, happened.

Scream no more, thrash no more.

Wandering around in thee bright light, wait for the end.

The end draws nigh, seek it out, welcome it with open arms, open, welcoming soul.
Do not think about the process, do not fear the unknown.

The end draws nigh, step out of the darkness, into the light. Wait, pace, smile, accept.

Tears in the ocean

More often than not, we tend to hurt those that we love. Either directly or indirectly. More often than not, we are hurt by those we love. All too often it is easy to release what we hide from the world once in our private, comfortable space.


Help to keep me from screaming, screaming out the things I fear, if I start screaming I fear that I will never stop, even after I grow hoarse.

I want to shout, shout to all in the world; 'I cannot take any more!'. Dear God, help me understand, help me learn from this, help me to teach others what lessons I am learning from all of this....... this........ shit.

Deep inside your pain & anguish slices like a sharp knife. Your eyes can barely contain the tears & pain as you try to keep a smile on your face. Your stomach churning the bitter truth you struggle so hard to contain.

All too often in my life I find myself in a place that feels, seems & acts like a deep dark night, with no dawn in sight. The dreams that make no sense yet you find terrifying. Once more I see the signals heralding darker times lie ahead, I want to scream, yell out that it is not fair, to throw things, hit my fists upon the surfaces hard as stone until they bleed. Bash my head into the floor until I pass out from pain. Alas, this will not help me find peace, I search for peace & understanding where there is none to be found.

Once more I beg for others to understand, offer me a light to find my path. There seems to be no one around to lend a offering.

Once more I feel as if I cannot go on, knowing deep inside that I must. Somehow. Someway.

Once more I find others looking to me for answers, as if I can make all of this go away & pretend that it has never existed.

So, quietly I cry my tears into the ocean. Adding my paltry tears into a sea of other tears. I will scream in silence, a quiet desperation. Seeking solace in nothing, seeking out something, anything to stunt the growing fear, terror.
Quietly I will suffer alone, Quietly I will bear the full weight of the burdens that nobody wants to hear much less bear.

I will smile, all the while I will cry my tears in the ocean.

Wishing upon a star, every last damn star........

Every so often, I hear about someone wishing or praying really, really hard for a sign, some thing to guide them or an answer to either a question or problem. We spend so much energy looking for some recognizable sign that most of the time we miss the larger ones that are practically smacking us in the face.

Sometimes, while we pray/wish whatever, we get our sign, answer. Sometimes it comes as something that we are not expecting. When we are aware, we end up with more questions than originally wanted answers to.

How do we make the correct choice or decision?

So we sit

we pray

we wish

we look

we anticipate

we ponder

we feel despondent

In the end, we often end up where we were had begun.

How do we translate the 'sign' that we are given? How do we begin to make the decision that might alter our lives?

Sometimes we look so hard for some small sign to give us answers. All to often we let others make decisions for us. Remember that coin toss? Heads for yes etc.

Some people are so scared to make the step forward in their lives that they either become stagnate or have made really bad choices in the past that we let others lead us down that damn primrose path.

Ever wonder what life would be like if everyone took that collective breath & charged head first into the unknown?

How can I stop from crying

I cannot get the thoughts to stop.
I cannot get the images to stop.
I cannot get the tears to dry.
I cannot keep my heart from breaking.
I cannot keep my eyes clouded.
I cannot keep my eyes from seeing the truth
I cannot do this anymore.
I cannot keep the charade alive anymore.
I cannot do this anymore.
I cannot go on hurting like this.
I cannot keep up the smile.
I cannot do this anymore.

Life with all of it's intreging cruelties

As I ponder the proper words to lay down in this forum, I cannot help but feel a distinct level of depression. With all of the meds that I am taking, I cannot help feeling a bit hopeless.



I have made my decision about the stimulator....... after bouncing back & forth on my opinion, talking to my must trusted doctor that has just about walked this path with me for almost eight years or so. After the trial was finished, I went home feeling defeated, sad & not entirely sure of what to do. This was my last option - correction; the only option left would be a medical pump. If I was unhappy with the stimulator, this made me really unhappy.



Then, while watching television, getting back to my 'normal' routine, I noticed a few odd things. One was the pain coming back in my shoulder down to my elbow & finally into my fingers. I had forgotten all about it (the pain) while the stimulator was on. Not too mention, what ever pain I had as 'break-through' pain, all came back with a vengeance. That made up my mind for me, I will just have to live with the side affects of the implant.



This decision became both a heavy weight lifting off of my shoulders & yet also left me with a profound sense of sadness. I know that I will never be able to do the things that I enjoyed, needed to do prior to the pain levels increasing.



Now I sit with other feelings - partly ashamed of myself for self pity, partly betrayed as well as a certain feeling of abandonment.



I am a complete idiot, I get the feeling that someone out there (in the world) thinks that I might be. I can read clues, still have my senses & even if my mind might be a bit fuzzy I still can see what is going on around me.



Sometimes I have to really rely on my faith to keep me strong even when the flesh is unwilling.



Within the last three years my life has definitely seen some low spots, yesterday all of that came back into sharp focus.

I sit, ponder & try to keep up that smile for everyone else. For not for me, I would do just about anything to keep from making others sad or angry with me.

While I plaster on that fake smile, inside as well as deep inside my heart; I am faltering, a deep well of sadness, frustration, anger & hopelessness. I try to vent when & where acceptable. Though, in reality, there seems to be no safe haven in which to find solace. All too often I find that emotions tend to 'leak' out when kept bottled in to long or crammed down so far. I watch, see others react to me, thus I cannot bear to witness another's pain. Hence the smile.

During the last few weeks, I have noticed that I am developing a dangerous habit of smoking like I did in my early twenties. The ever increasing amount of pain meds. Not too mention, I have started drinking again. Something I have not done in many years.

All in effort to keep those pesky emotions at bay.

During these past weeks I have become acutely aware of the emotional scars of surgery. I have always thought that people with physical scars paid much more attention than deserved or required. However, now I understand all of that mumbo jumbo from the shrinks. Not only am I acutely aware of my surgical scar, it also brought back all of those pesky emotions that I had endured when I first entered foster care & had to explain all of my scars to everyone back then.
I am ashamed of the way my body looks. I have, for lack of a better phrase, really let myself go.

Interesting how things come full circle. It also scares the hell out of me. As a firm believer in karma, it surprises me to no end that for some thing(s) I am paying deeply. I have arrived at a conclusion internally; I will take my 'medicine' as long as it teaches me a lesson. The one caveat that seems almost always in the forefront of my brain; there is always someone who has it much worse.

A friend once told me that yes, there is almost always someone who has things much worse, BUT, never discount your pain, emotions & experiences.

When I was much younger, I had to endure explaining to others why I was in foster care. Not too mention the court ordered shrink. As a teen, I became pretty good at those walls I heard so much about in therapy. Until, my early twenties. I begun to experience what is commonly called bleed through. Apparently, those wells that appeared to be bottomless are not. I had became so proficient at burying things that things started to 'leak' out. First in the form of nightmares, then crying fits & so on. I was on the verge of a second nervous breakdown in less than five years. It was pretty scary on how much the mind can forget for the salvation. To this very day, I am still having memories that appear out of now where.

So, here I sit.

Waiting.

Hoping.

Praying.

Burying.

Crying.

Wailing.

Screaming.

Flailing.

At this point in my life, I have begun to appreciate the things that were once taken for granted. Once I had assumed that I would live forever, now, pondering the days left, the list of lessons to be learned. Preparing others for my departure, trying to let others learn from both my mistakes & lessons learned.

Until then, I will continue on this path. Some days I pray for others, to be forgiven, to be saved, to be guided, to be safe, to know the graciousness of our saviour. On other days I pray to make my pain worthwhile, to let someone gain a mustard seed of knowledge, strength.

Alice has fallen down the rabbit hole without acid

Among dumb things, among honorable things, among morons, among scholars. At some point in our lives we each arrive at a point in which we are required to make very difficult decisions. Hopefully, these points in our lives are minimal. For others however, some seem to arrive one after another. For those unlucky few, most have come to accept this as normal. Someone we all tend to turn to in times of hardship. Perhaps that person has become you, or at least know of someone in this situation.

For me, I seem to be the one members of my family tend to turn to, unless I make it clear that they are cut off. In my life I have had to make some very difficult, sometimes even horrible decisions. Alas, I have reached that pinnacle once more.

The last ten years or so, I have lived with pain in my lower back into my legs. Each year this has continued to worsen.

Within the last year I have had to make decisions to try to minimize this.
Once was a outpatient procedure, others in the form of ever increasing pills, yet another was actual surgery along with a "most comfortable" hospital stay. All in vain. All done in an attempt to minimize the levels of pain. As I am finding out, there seems to be many opinions on how to treat or lack thereof problems such as mine. Not to mention, my problem seems to be one of the most common. With only differences in degree of pain, levels (lumbar vertebrae) etc.
In my case, I tend to be one of most difficult to 'treat'. I have tried obtaining second, even third opinions.
Of those, I have only been told there was nothing that they could/would do for me. It was even suggested I make plans for care in the future. One doctor (name withheld) even told me that at least the pain will have mostly disappeared by the time I turned fifty or sixty. When pressed, this doctor explained that there will be no more discs & nerve endings to give me pain. How does someone respond to that? Flabbergasted, I left with very little said. Thinking to myself, I had to pay for THAT?

Of recent months, I have had a conversation with two doctors about this stimulator. It was explained very thoroughly. Not too mention my own research and advice from others both helping with their own research and others that have had this done.
Most of which I can sum up; either they hate or love it. Going into the test I had a pretty good idea of what to expect. One thing one should never rely on is a good idea. After going through the two hour long procedure to have this item temporarily inserted into my spinal column, it was turned on. A few of the descriptions of the feeling were described from a light tingle, gentle massage, to comparing it to sticking a 9volt battery on your tongue.

Well, my description would be along these lines; have you ever grabbed the end of a power cord touching the metal prongs while still half plugged into the outlet? Or perhaps received a jolt from an short in a cord? Well, I have, several times. This seems just like that. Coupled with that, the feeling of your legs, butt, feet, toes and back all falling asleep or perhaps that feeling when your limbs are just waking up from the state of numbness, Also, having those parts numb to the touch as well as private parts going numb. To say that it is not pleasant would be an understatement. For three days I have tried to find a 'comfortable' balance between the pain & this stimulator. Very quickly I realized that I would still have pain, no sensation of requiring the use of a restroom and on and on.

Now that this trial is almost over, I have to make a decision for my doctor. This week I have been all over the 'map' with this thing. Going from jubilation to deep depression. Earlier this week, I thought; "this doesn't seem to be so bad, perhaps I can live with these sensations." Followed by; "Whoa, this doesn't cover all the pain. I still need a backup." And finally; "This doesn't work well for me at all. I need to crank the dial up for the pain, the side affect; very difficult to walk & breathe, not too mention, trying to lay down makes the 'buzzing' escalate."

So, here I sit.....My options are down to none..... over time I have become depressed as I watch my world shrink. One day I realized that I have made changes without even noticing. The little things that we all take for granted, probably do over again without the slightest indication of the mechanics involved.

To try to reach a solid, well researched decision, I talked to the Rep who assisted in the implementation of the device, talked to physical therapy, read stories on the Internet of both the 'horror' & positive & everything in the middle. Kept a daily 'journal' of my experiment. Yet, with all of that, here I sit. I know that my options are rapidly dwindling. On one hand, I think that perhaps I should just have this installed & deal with the buzzing & numbness as well as still taking the meds. Or Do nothing, continue to deal as I had pre-test. I guess I will make a decision after the removal of said device, as well as comparing noted with my doctor. We shall see.

I am so Confused....... annoyed.......... depressed......... etc....

In a blink of an eye......

Recently I have had the uncomfortable experience of things changing in a blink of an eye. Let me start with yesterday as an example; So there I was, working on cleaning up the yard, trying to make it look decent. Then, feeling guilty about the dog having been locked up for a while, I let him out to play a bit of ball. (We have a game of tossing a tennis ball he retrieves & brings back) after a bit of this, he decided to take a breather. So at this point I decided that it might be a good time to get the post. Upon my returning, I notice that my dog is bleeding. Off I run to the vet with him to get stitches. Just like that, within a space of five minutes, life changed in a blink of an eye. Now he cannot play ball, go for walks or bathe for ten days. Not too mention the pills he must take for pain & to ward of the possibility of infection.

The other day, I recieved a message from a sibling that I have not spoken to in a while, somewhat surprised by the tone and obvious anger, returned the call once I had a moment. We managed to talk for about an hour. Trying to catch up. One of my sibilings told me that they were looking for our mother, whom has been out of touch for about twelve years. In a blink of an eye things changed. All of a sudden I felt the need to explain why I wanted no contact with her. All of a sudden I found myself explaining my anger, among other emotions. On top of all this, I felt betrayed, annoyed and sad. Betrayed, for my siblings having not told me of previous communications, annoyed that once more I had to explain my self & sad for things that could have been. Sad for the little boy somewhere inside of me that still wants his mommy to hold him, tell him everything will be alright. Sad for the way I was raised. Age seems to have some benefits, a better understanding of your parents, understanding of what they had to deal with. Even though I forgave my parents years ago, I cannot ever forget. Nor am I willing to reestablish communications with the sole parent still alive. (status of life or death unknown)
Not too mention the anger that seems to crop up if pushed to explain something to someone who should know exactly why I have the feelings that I do. While I have come to understand things a little more as I watch the struggles of others to raise children, I will never understand why, with all the relatives that lived within a stones throw from us, why no one ever tried to stop our mother, nor will I ever understand why our mother was able to pick and choose the help that she recieved.

In a blink of an eye life changes.

Talking to a friend the other day, trying to catch up as we usually do, eventually we talked about health concerns. Knowing that this person has a few medical problems, I try to understand, be empathetic, even sympathize. This friend told me that they were struggeling to make a desicion about whether to have a routine test to confirm the fact that they more than likely had cancer. Not only that, how to tell their spouse, family etc. Confusion settled in with me, I asked the obvious; how can you be so sure? To which I recieved the reply; several family members passed from cancer, also that this person was showing the same symptoms as their family members had. Not only that, I am further told, upon researching some of the symptoms, the various types of cancer their relatives (only two, types) had passed from, everything seemed to 'fall in place', I am told that things 'clicked'. Something deep inside told this person that this was true.
I thought of something that I had either heard or read somewhere awhile back; If you believe in something strong enough, convince yourself so thouroughly, you will end up with what ever you believe that you might have. After relaying this to my friend I was told that that was not funny. I may have mentioned that this was probably hypocondria. I tried to laugh it off. Unfortunately, I realized that what this friend was telling me was most likely true & that I was not a good friend for doubting. So I tried not to become that person who becomes overbearing, that person who feels the need to call every hour to be sure that everything is alright. I tried to bite back the words I wanted to say. I realized that the only thing this friend of mine needed was a shoulder to lean on. Someone to bounce things off of. So, with sorrow in my heart, I aggreed, I relented. As much as I love this friend, I did not want to be the voice of opposition. Their family members will be the voice of argument. As we hung up, I mentioned that if this person wanted or needed, they could contact me any time.

In a blink of an eye things change. A few months ago, my little sister called to tell me that she had breast cancer. The first surgery was to remove the lump. I was told that it wasn't cancer, a benign tumor. The second surgery was to remove the lumps that returned. Then, a few weeks ago, I was told that my little sister had another surgery to do a complete hysterectomy. My little sister is in her mid thirties, a wife, mother and friend.

In a blink of an eye, things change, things that were will no longer will be. The truth, circumstances, emotions, and understandings are all altered in a blink of an eye. Remeber to tell that someone that you love them, several times a day if needed. Remember to hold those you love, remember to find common ground with those you find irritable. Remember to live & love.


In a blink of an eye things change.

Random events with unrandom results

Ever wonder why certain things happen in your life at specific times or do you just assume that everything being eventual leads random events.

As for me I tend to run somewhere in between these two; random and specific. I also believe that there is a higher power: God.

Assumption leads to faith based upon facts. I used to say, quite arrogantly, If I cannot touch, see or feel it doesn't exist.

Recent events in my life (within the last decade, so, I guess not so recent) have shaped and changed my thinking on the topic. If one were to sit an think about all of the random things that happen in their life as well as all of those feelings of deja' vu, besides a major headache, the only thing left to try to make some semblance of order and a sense of things would be that a higher power more than likely had be involved.

Everyone has different versions of the same thing: God. Or there are those that subscribe to the Wicca religion, as well as others that think there is nothing other than our own actions causing reactions. That said, there might be some truth to all of these things. Ever hear the old saying: "History is a great predictor"?

As of this date, I believe that our actions cause future reactions, as well as the belief that there is a higher power in control. I need to believe in God. It would be the only sane reason for events in my life. There seems to be far too many connections to be passed off as merly coincidence or random chance.

Pride and arrogance are difficult things to acknowledge and overcome. I see a very fine line between the two.
A lot of people have some sort of pride as well as others with a great deal of arrogance. It takes a strong sense of self to recognize them both. With pride, one never knows for whom the action helps, generally the motives behind their pride would be self gain or self acculations.

With pride you get the range of pride in a job well done all the way to feeling superior to others. The pride with arrogance, two of the deadliest 'sins'. On average, everyone tends to be somewhere in the lower to middle of this spectrum. In the corporate world you tend to see the middle to upper end.

Then there are those with a stubborn sense of pride, ever hear this: "I don't need help, I can do it myself" or that they are frustrated in that they cannot do something that previously came to them easily. I fall into both of these areas. I was raised with a strong sense of Independence, my mother, to the dismay of others, only took help from others when it suited her. She also had a similar sense of independence. It appears to be true in that we inherit more from our parents than some of us would like.

For years I believed that I could do just about anything myself.

Asking for assistance to complete some tasks was virtually unheard of. At times I would rather work myself to death rather than ask for help.

In recent years I have been forced to, much to my dismay, rely on others to help me with various things. I was forced to watch my world shrink. Every thing I tried to do I was forced to reconsider or it took twice as long to accomplish tasks that previously I could accomplish with very little effort.

I have been racking my brain as of late, trying to figure out why some things are happening to me in recent years. After many days of pondering a range of theories, I came up with bupkiss.

One theory kept coming to me, it was weird, almost as if everything in this world was silently screaming at me. Faith, Hope and love. Without my Faith I would not have been able to hold out for any hope, much less love. Interesting isn't it? That one leads to another. That with out faith there isn't much room for hope to bloom or love to prosper.

I believe in those three words so much so that I had them tattooed on my body. A permanent reminder if you will. Without those three words I don't think that I would have survived the past year. Sounds almost too dramatic doesn't it? Well, if not survive physically then perhaps mentally. Depression has been on rise in our world as of late. The wars that rage on, the plummeting economy, and the many things that would be too numerous to mention here. The feeling of hopelessness seems to prevail. Especially with me.

I see things around me, take less for granted. Feel more empathy for others. I now understand alot more than I used to. There was a time that I took almost everything for granted. The common thought that 'it will be there tomorrow'.... As a student of life, I have been afforded the opportunity to see things around me without the rose tinted glasses. At my darkest hours there almost always has been someone doing something that I might not have previously noticed.

General things that we typically do not think twice about; opening the door for someone, letting another car pull into your lane, saying something silly just to get a reaction, and on and on. When I first had problems with my mobility I thought that I would take care of it myself, that I did not need help. After all, my past actions had some serious future reactions. I tire of telling the story of what happened, I also tire of others telling me that I am too young to go through this. As if I can unwind time to somehow tell myself not to be so damn stupid. Alas, there appears to be no way of accomplishing such a task, besides, I wouldn't change a thing. Why would I? Just for the pain? The lessons that I have learned greatly outweigh the pain. Or would it be to prevent addiction to pain pills? Naw, granted, it does more harm than good in the long run, the lesson I learned far out weighs the risk. Another thing that I still tire of hearing; that it is all in my mind. Wow, I cannot begin to describe the thoughts and feeling that went through me when I first heard that one. Other than the frustration that another doctor did not believe me or implying that I am seeking attention. After the anger cooled to a simmer, I was forced to consider all possibilities, perhaps it was in my head, perhaps I was looking for something that was lacking in my life. Something that stays in my mind often, as well as something that my mother used to always say; "quite faking it". She would say that when ever my sisters or I were sick, injured or whenever something was not right with us. Because of the later, I make sure that I over analyze my motives, my decisions and my life. I did see a therapist to rule out the 'all in my head' thing as well as the other possibilities. It all boils down to this; my pain is real, it took a doctor to actually sit down and really listen to me and my complaints. As for my other medical issues, it only took a doctor to perform a few tests to confirm that what I said was in fact true. Sounds simple doesn't it? Aside from finding a doctor to believe in you, the self doubt, the sense of betrayal and feeling like an outsider are constant in your forethought. I questioned my own sanity for a long time. What a relief it was to be told that your pain was real. I feel like I am beating a dead horse as the saying goes. I know that I have said this all before and most likely will again.
The point of all of these words are this; Nothing in life should ever be taken for granted. I have better understanding for people with physical disabilities, better understanding for the 'little' things that people do for others.
It occurred to me this past holiday season that as a society, we have damn near lost touch with the sense of community. Tell me, do you know your mailman's name? The cashier at the grocery market? How about the kids down the street that play in the street? What about the many other people that we come into contact with on a daily basis? To be perfectly honest, I couldn't. So, I made it a mission to answer some of these questions. Also, I thought if I am going to do this, I might as well keep going. Nothing that I have ever done was half assed. When I take on a task I usually sink my teeth in. I recall something that my maternal grandmother used to tell me; leave something better than you found it. It is these small things that go a long way. Try it sometime.

As for the rest, well, the lesson here to me at least, always remember that similar to an earthquake, your simple action has a reaction. Similar to the ground shaking from a distinct 'center' and spreading outward. I have found that when you make someone smile, even for a very brief moment, it tends to affect others. When you make someone upset or mad, it too, will affect others. Try it. Prove me wrong. Sounds almost too simplistic doesn't it?

Current Events Part II

On my last entry I mentioned that I would keep this updated as to my progress (or lack thereof) of quiting smoking;

Well, today would count as day two, so far I have recovered from yesterdays horrible withdrawal symptoms. I ended up smoking a total of seven cigarettes yesterday. Today, I have smoked six thus far. I did end up giving up with the patches as they were causing too much burning and the rash seemed to get worse. The inhalers only work for a short spell.
The pain pills I take make me crave smoking more. I imagine that this would be similar to drinking in a bar, everything makes the urges stronger, especially the more you drink.

As of this moment I have given in and made an appointment with my doctor for monday to pick up some pills that have helped me in the past. I do not qualify for the newest pill, the Chantix, I am told that they would cause a bad reaction to the pain pills that I take.

I am trying to find strength and courage to deal with this battle.
More tomorrow -

Current Events

As of the last few years I have been dealing with some issues, one of those issues is my lower back pain. I have now come to the point where I am able to get fusion surgery.

In order to qualify for surgery, I need to quit smoking.

So for the past few weeks I have been trying to quit. I tried cold turkey approach, failed. Picked up a prescription for the nicotrol inhalers. At first these were working, then failed. So I have decided that I would try cutting back and smoking light cigarettes. This seemed to work for awhile, until my body craved more and more, so I smoked more and more. Feeling pretty upset about my inability to quit smoking I decided to pick up the patch.

So, I got up today and thought that I was doing pretty good, I hadn't had a smoke since one thirty am. I even changed my morning routine as all the 'experts' suggest. I was fine until around twelve thirty when the cravings and withdrawal became pretty intense. The sweating, racing heart, nausea, anxious feeling became so bad that even distractions wouldn't help. I finally gave in and used an nicotine inhaler. If you have never used one, let me be the first to say they are pretty bad, kinda burn your throat and tongue. But, they cut the symptoms down to half. After about another half hour I tried the patch only to notice that a big rash formed under and around the site of where I put the patch. Now I thought, I am screwed. So I moved the patch and so far the rash has stayed minimal.

I wouldn't even think of putting myself through this hell if I weren't planning on having major surgery in three weeks.
I refuse to lie in the hospital for a week going through both the pain and recovery of surgery and going through nicotine withdrawals.

I will be keeping this updated as I continue my journey through the process of becoming smoke free.

Today, Day one. So far it sucks.

Wanna go for a walk?

Picture in your mind with me for just a moment, if you would be so kind.

It is around May of 2000, Having lived in our first house for only a few months, something Dave wanted almost more than anything; a dog. Yes, he said to me one fine day very shortly after moving in, what we need to complete our little family was a dog.

So, off to the shelters we toured, several weekends contemplating about this one or could this happy, hyper one be the dog that we (He) so wanted. Finally, after alot of time and searching for the ideal dog we came across this little girl cowering in the back of the pen in a shelter that we almost didn't stop at due to time constraints. If memory serves, I said "what about this one?" as I was really getting tired of looking, tired of the constant heming and hawing, to be perfectly frank, I wasn't really a hundred percent into this whole idea of getting a dog. Dave replied; " I didn't even notice that there was a dog in there....." thus began what I would like to think God's plan. This little girl had been in the shelter for a while, having been dumped by her previous owners because she was too 'hyper'. At first, she was the most timid, shy, quiet pup, barely looking anyone in the eye, slinking as if we would hurt her.

We were hooked!

This quiet, passive behavior lasted a very short period once we got her home, after a period of testing the waters so to speak, she fully came into her own. She Thrived! Yes, she was very hyper, as are most puppies. She needed some house breaking, and loads of boundaries.

As a matter of fact, she is the only dog that I have ever known to have failed puppy training classes. She just didn't care to learn anything that we wanted, rather, only to appease us she managed a few things, though what ever her heart desired, we pretty much let her do. We definitely paid the price. The cell phones, remotes, anything that wasn't her toys became fodder for her to destroy. As frustrating as some of this was, we loved just about every moment of it. This was my first dog.

Ever since I was a child, thanks in part to my mother, I was borderline terrified of most dogs, this only was reinforced when I was bitten several times. Ellie was there to help show me that not all dogs her size were going to accost me. She became my hero.

When Ellie became part of our family, she entered as a shy, quiet little girl. Upon her exit one would say that she left almost the same.

This was an incredibly difficult thing to deal with, old wounds that were thought to at least have scabbed over were ripped off in a flash. Memories flooding back, the aching in my heart for the life that was leaving for her reward. I prayed fervently for her not too suffer, yet prayed fervently for more time. I wanted her to be around for at least another month, selfishly I wanted to get beyond the one year anniversary of the last two deaths. Though this was not to be.

One night Ellie became very sick, not too unusual considering that she has been progressively getting worse since January when we discovered how sick she really was. In the last month of her life, she aged had about ten years, right before our eyes she went from a very happy, energetic, content disposition to one of wanting to sleep, not wanting the very things that she made sure that we knew would please her. This night, two weeks ago, a Wednesday night, she became very sick, throwing up more than usual, the heart wrenching spasms, the look in her eyes. This night as per usual, she slept with Davey, needless to say that neither managed to get much sleep.

I woke up rather early, not my usual, Dave greeted me and in a very strained, shocked voice told me that it was time to let her go.

The appointment made, now only to sit and wait. I HATE WAITING, hate knowing what was to come, hate not having the ability to tell her what was happening, what was going to happen.

During this long wait, I think that Ellie knew what was going to happen, she licked me in the face a few times, something that she rarely, if ever, did. I lost it.

Finally the time had arrived, off we trudged, the prospect of a car ride was immensely pleasing to her.

She went very quietly, in the space of a couple of heartbeats she was gone. Almost nine years old, I felt like I had failed her in so many ways. I am generally the one who tries to fix things when they go wrong, I couldn't fix this, it had gone horribly wrong. Our hearts were broken, almost inconsolable we were seeing her in her final moments. Thankfully, we have a wonderful doctor whom was there for us in this moment of great need. Though the time was to let her go, we had to leave with out her, this was our little girl, the daughter we wanted, couldn't imagine our lives without. The little girl that has been through so much of which any one of those things could have been her undoing. The Lyme disease, the time she ran away and was hit by a car, and on and on. How do we tell those that loved her so? How do I pick up the pieces and make something good come out of this? How do I comfort Dave who seems to be hit hard by this?
Of those I had no easy answers, everyone knew Ellie, everyone who met her fell for her charm.

Time goes on, as it almost always will, we somehow managed to pick up the some of the pieces. The pain is easing, though not the guilt. We have closure, we brought her ashes home.

I find we hug our remaining dog a little more, a little harder. Spoiling him a bit more. Our other dog has been through this as well, though, I am sure that he doesn't understand. He knew that his sister was getting sick, he saw us take her away and return without her. I believe that he still waits for her to come through the door. In short, he misses her. How does one deal with this?

As for my wounds, these are something that one cannot put a salve on, for the betterment of those around me, I shove all of these emotions deep down. As this has become natural for me to do. Dave and I have become a bit closer, we have decided to wait for a while before we begin to talk about another dog.

We will work hard to keep her memory alive, after all, everywhere we look we see signs of her.

A Winters Day

On a day when the weather outside should be brittle, with the wind blowing, finding every open crevice in your clothes to chill you to the bone. Cold enough to steal the heat right off of your face, make your nose run, fingers go numb. Instead we find the weather tempered, down right warm. With the harsh wind blowing warm air around, tousling your hair, making the dogs' noses twitch with anticipation of something in the air to make them drool. A strong wind to make the bare tree branches rattle like cold, old bones telling their story of the life that they once lived. The sun warming the very ground that you walk on, making the grass try to turn green, the trees bud.

Yet through all of this amazing weather there you stand with deep wounds that refuse to heal over. The call came in with more bad news; we will loose the battle with yet another four legged companion. A companion that has shared your world for the last seven and half years, shared your bed, shared all the highs and lows of those bygone years. Though to look at her one would assume that she hadn't a clue. You see, that is part of her charm. You once again make the comment; "If she were human she would be one of those typical blonde jokes." Alas, her time to care for me, to smile and bounce around whilst at play, to push her cold, leaky nose into your hand, even repeatedly force herself upon you during times of sadness. Her ability to 'sense' your moods. Even the ability to enjoy life from a dream seems all but gone. Now it's our turn to force ourselves upon her, to carry her to the communal bed with her brother and dad, to wipe her leaky nose, leaky mouth. Rub her swollen, achy knees and feet. Our turn to gently force her medicine into her mouth.
Once more, this time has come for you to watch the fall of a companion, one that proved the wisest choice of all at the shelter those years ago. Patiently, anxious, fearful of every cough, groan, snore. Watching as she turns down the food that has comforted her in recent months, feeling helpless, torn. Torn between letting her eat what she wants, not her medical diet. Torn between the need to take over and force her to get better, versus letting her go easily.

Once again I am reminded of the valuable lesson learned earlier this past year; pay attention to whats in front of you, not whats to come.

Good words to say, much more difficult once you have to live them.

So, even though the weather outside is rather warm for the season, no cold, bitter wind to rattle your bones, rather a warm, gentle wind caressing your face, making the bare tree branches clatter together like old bones telling the stories of yesteryear, You are waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop.

You go through all of this whist in the midst of your own troubles, the doctor visits for yourself, the tests. The waiting to see what the proper course of treatment will be. Though, you look, think: I would like to do nothing else but take care of her every moment of every day, though, you know that this would be impractical at best. After all, you are human, she is a dog. Not a child. For you, those words are hollow, empty of the feeling that you seem to crave at this moment. For you, the line between child and pet have blurred to the point where it is virtually indistinguishable. You have long been in the habit of treating those pets as if they were your own children. For you, there is no other way.

If it were not tragic, one might laugh at those emotions that you have, for there are people out there in worse positions, more pain. There are those that you pray for each day that are faced with losing a beloved child from something that cannot easily be put into few words. On a day like this might prove to be a wonderful story to whisper to those beloved children. How the sun shone, the warmth of the day made other children run, jump, skip and play. How you saw dogs frolicking, the laughter of children. Perhaps given them inspiration to get better, comfort them towards the end.

You are angry, saddened, fearful. Angry that this has to happen to such a wonderful creature that seems to be placed in your care by God himself. Saddened you must give this creature back, and fearful that you might have done something to perpetuate this condition, not done enough, or must make that final decision.

So together you and your spouse comfort one another, take out some of those emotions on each other. Share the blessing that might very well turn out to the last months, weeks.

Together you walk in the warm sunshine, feel the wind, listen to the stories of the bone trees.
Cling to one another, find comfort in each other. Share stories of yesteryear. Smile.

07', Year in Review

To start with an immediate review of the last year, personal highs and lows, would be a bit self indulgent. So lets start with a few items that I recall from the world around me.

This may bounce around a bit, my memory has decided to filter items deemed not necessarily important.

We are still in a war that seems to have more casualties than any sort of victories. Personally, I don't care about the war, we might have had good reasons to commence war with another country, However, we are spending more & more money to finance this as well as the human toll this has taken. I realize that we might not be hearing all of the truths with regard to this, though, from what I have seen from other countries with regards to reports and updates on this war, tends to put this war in a dismal light. We as a country need to get our troops home, figure out a way to end or extricate ourselves from this war - safely.
Interestingly enough, on the eve of the start of this war, Dixie Chicks made derogatory comments on a stage in London with regards to this war and our President. Needless to say, they were shunned, banned from radio stations, even had death threats made against them and their families. True, they should not have said those things, especially on foreign soil. However, some of those remarks proved prophetic. Yet, they are still shunned.

Enough, I could ramble on for a bit more, yet will spare ya'll more of the same.

We lost Evel Knievel, Pavarotti, Banazir Bhutto, Dan Fogelberg, Ike Turner, Norman Mailer, Hank Thompson, Kevin Dubrow, Joey Bishop, Leona Helmsley, Tammy Faye Messner, Don Ho... To name a few....

Other events in this year: Minneapolis bridge collapse, several shootings, Al Gore won the peace prize, Smart cars introduced in the United States..... among others.

Interesting how the mind automatically focuses on the negative events of life, it would appear that the news and papers point out these horrors as if they were common occurrences, they filter and sanitize various stories to grab the audience, pull them in, and leaving them wanting more. It is often refreshing to read stories about positive, life affirming things. Alas, these are so few and far between.

This year in my life has been one of growing, pain, happiness, etc etc.. blah blah blah!
Lets cut to the chase, this year pretty much sucked, I try to focus on the positive aspects, wring as much as I can out of those few and far between happy times.

I started this year working in a completely different field, one that would be light years from anything I had ever done prior. I started working in a school, in April, with second graders. This wasn't too bad, actually kind of fun when the politics were not to intense.

This year my back pain ramped up a few more notches. Tried to find alternative options, found out that there really isn't a whole lot anyone can do. The steroid mix injections are failing, the pain pills don't always work. Other meds make me sick. Running around chasing children have exasperated my condition exponentially. I was forced to leave the job at the school partly due to my back and pain levels were getting completely out of control.

In March, we lost my two cats. One had lived with me for almost twenty years, the other about eight. I have never experienced that intense level of grief in my adult life. For the sake of others and my sanity, I did not allow myself to indulge in these feelings, I did what came naturally to me in my life, a lesson learned many years ago; I buried the pain, the mess of emotions.

I have been blessed with many friends this year, good, true people that have blessed me with their friendships.
I have met new people and am happy to be able to call them friends. My friendships from previous years have strengthened and are considered my surrogate family.

My partner and I have celebrated our eleventh year! quite a feat for us. We are sooo the old married couple now! I am enjoying every minute of it.

I am looking forward to a new year, rife with potential. New friends, another year older (gulp!), new possibilities.

A life time ago

Recently, I was emailed several pictures of times long, long gone. Funny how time flies.

I sit and look at those pictures, trying to recall the events, perhaps the mood, or even the emotion of myself at the time.

The truth is, for the most part I cannot.

To me this seems sad and yet pleasing that I cannot recall. Those times are gone, or so I thought.

As I look at those pictures I am reminded of those that have gone on before myself, I feel the grief for some that seems still as fresh as it was then. Granted, for some of those the grief was immature, naive, childish.
For as mature as I was in most ways, I did not understand death nor did I understand that the way that I grew up was definitely not how others lived. I comfort myself with the knowledge that the reason I cannot recall was a blessing of memory or the lack thereof.

Yes, surviving my childhood was a miracle. One that I try not too take for granted too often, I may not be the most active person, the most outgoing, nor the most happiest person in all the world. There are, however, others that were and are in worse shape than I was and am in. One fact that certainly does not escape me on a daily basis.

Lately, certain events in my life have forced me to replay parts of my life, wondering if perhaps that I made the correct choices, chosen the paths that I did. You know what? I realized that yes, for me, those where the choices that needed to be made at the time. I have no real regrets. I guess my only real regret would be a conflicted one that I have had for a few years now...... my choice not to have children.

I think that I have made the correct choice..... though the conflict continues.

It's funny how a scare can force you to look at things.... wonder if your ready to move on from this life. Perhaps ready to atone for those choices, make peace with this life.
Yes, I recently had a big cancer scare...... funny, it doesn't look so scary once it's out there, while the process and speed in which things happen certainly tend to be scary. I think that I am ready for what ever God has in store for me. My only real worry would be for those that I leave behind, mainly my partner. I believe that scares me the most, leaving them alone to go through the loss. That almost sounds conceited doesn't it? I worry not for me only those left in the wake of the mess that I may make. This sounds funny, I would, on the one hand rather that he goes before me so that I can spare him the pain, while on the other hand, I want him to outlive me so that I wouldn't have to face this world with out me.

When I was a teenager I used to say that they would have to take me out kicking and screaming... well, I am not so sure that would be true any further. Perhaps there would be some sort of bargaining on my part, some arguing. I think though, in the end, I would take the hand held out to me and take that final walk.

It is interesting that I now, because of my work, I recall those times as a teenager. One of the biggest things that I used to say was I would never become an adult or at the very least, talk like one. When did I become the very thing I didn't want to? and why am I so complacent about these things? I have come to realize that even though I don't necessarily feel grown up, I certainly act like one sometimes.

Thank you for letting me vent - sometimes it is easier to think when you spill it all out there in a semi private forum.

Gays and the media, Gay marriage, Part I

Lately there have been lots of media coverage with regards to politicians arrested for "misconducts" in the mens restrooms.

Generally, in my reading and opinions, these are the very individuals that are screaming the loudest with regards to banning gay marriage, civil unions. These are the very people that are the biggest discriminators against the gay community, yet the number of arrests for lewd acts or propositioning under cover cops in public bathrooms. These politicians want to ignore the fact that unless homosexual individuals go out of their way to ensure that their wishes are granted, partner visiting them in the hospital, make medical emergency decisions, file their partners taxes, ensure that their estate goes to the surviving partner etc. Those wishes go unheeded and either the state collects the entire estate (as is generally the rule) or to the next of kin whomever that might be.

Never mind the increased penalties and taxes that surviving partners pay on an estate from the deceased. The state and federal collect huge sums of money from these estates. Sometimes as much as eighteen to twenty percent in some cases.

Now, correct me if I am incorrect, shouldn't these folks tread lightly and talk even softer?

This whole federal and state ban on gay marriages and or civil unions are about thirty years too late, meaning: these folks have no business trying to force their opinions on us as well as making these unions illegal both at federal and state level. If anything both (state, federal) need to stay out of this or find another solution for the gay community to get the rights that they are entitled to and yet are denied.

Yes, I will concede that there are quite a few folks out there who, in all honesty, think that gays should be second class citizens, there are more individuals out there that think that all gays should be killed on sight - their excuse? God wants it that way......... hhhhmmmmmm, wonder if he told them that personally ....... I would have to assume that they are completely with out sin, never lied, stolen, ate shell fish, swore, etc etc etc.
While still, there are a growing number of individuals that accept gays for who they are but do not agree with these unions...... it impacts their marriage....... somehow.

After reading, chatting with folks from a wide range of opinions, I come away from this both more confused and yet almost scared at the hatred that flows from some of these individuals.

I think that I am starting to understand most everyones point of view with regards to these matters..... however, no one will tell me exactly how it will impact their marriages, day to day lives, their work or their families. (unless someone in their family is a homosexual). To this day, I have not had an answer other than it's against God, the bible says that it is an abomination.

It never seems to amaze me what people are capable of. Those that use the bible as a shield, make partial quotes that fit their argument, lament when they are asked to explain in further detail or even suggest that they might be incorrect.
To those that quote the bible as if it has been handed directly to them from God himself, they almost never stray from their stance. Will not listen to another argument, side, whatever. As if they had blinders on - similar to those that the horses wear while on the public streets so that they won't be spooked. These folks need to WAKE up, listen for a change. Perhaps someone might have a valid point without hiding behind their bibles.

More on this later.

Dogs among us

Today there is an article with regards to yet another Pitt Bull attack.

While these stories tend to put fear into the hearts and minds of those that either are ignorant or extremely prejudiced, Everyone needs to stop, take a look at the animals that are among those that are considered dangerous.

Pitt Bulls are the street names - Staffordshire Terrier is the actual name. While these dogs are protectors, strong, and often stubborn, they, in the proper hands, make a wonderful pet.

Now, I have been told many times that I should have my boy destroyed simply because someone has fears that are based partly upon fear and partly upon prejudice. Yes, my boy bit another dog when he was eight months old, no denying the fact. Though the fact of the matter it was a scratch and we paid all the vet bills - something like seventy five dollars to have an emergency appointment plus iodine flush, all the while I was paying the bill the vet, tech and receptionist kept telling me that I was an idiot for having this dog, if they had their way I should be sued and the dog destroyed. All because another dog came up, jumped on me while I was holding my dog in my arms. I told those people where they could shove their opinion and if they wanted to sue me - bring it on.

Prior to that though, people at that particular park watched my boy grow from a eight week old puppy to a nine month old boy - yes he grew large and to some, looked scary. Such was the prejudice that when we would show up, my other dog (shepard mix) and my boy people would grab their children and dogs and leave. What a nice reception for a couple of puppies.

THIS IS THE ATTITUDE that I am referring to, people see these types of dogs and flee.
Not all people do this though, they are either true animal lovers, people whom are not afraid or those that generally have no preconception either way. Then we get to those bastards that breed and fight these poor dogs. These are the dogs that need to be put down, while their owners rot in prison for animal abuse, neglect among other things.
I have absolutely no patients or sympathy for those bastards out there that mistreat, abuse, fight or whatever ill will towards animals. They are the ones that tie up their dogs out side all year long, beat them when they bark, let their cats run around terrorizing the neighborhood and yell and scream when their animal get hit by a car or gets taken away by the spca people. These people, doesn't matter whether its male, female, white black or other there are just as many out there to pick up the tethers when one gets hauled off to jail for abusing their animals.

People need to wake up, do their research about a specific breed the potential risks inherent with that particular breed and make a sound desicion based upon the desires of their families and what will fit in best with them.

Yes, those animals that were fought should be humanly put down, those animals that are mean whether it be a Poodle or a GreatDane - doesn't matter, if they cannot be rehabilitated then they need to be humanely put down. There are far too many dogs that are readopted out to families or given away with no history or very little information about where they came from.
The public needs to stop buying animals from puppy mills, go to the local shelter, rescue a dog or cat or whatever. Any animal that you choose to bring into your home, you assume the risks.
Just like you assume the vet bills for checkups, you should also assume that there might be a dog bite or two in the future.