Right now I feel mad.
He is in my head. I am trying to get him out. I thought of yet another possible solution... and wanted to see his face, to see if that is really what I felt. It was a nice solution. A maybe-I-don't-need-to-file-that-complaint solution.
I found a blog. About head injury. He is doing this thing..., is active in that community. And it made me hurt and angry. And I don't even know why... I wanted to throw my phone at the door. I decided to let myself. I have not indulged in the anger I have felt. I have suppressed that a lot. I have kept that in check. I have not even felt it a lot, but I am angry. Maybe increasingly so as I am still stuck in this shitty hell hole of fucked up. And I didn't even get to indulge in the immoral pleasure of literally. I only got the brain fuck. -Now that's warped and angry me coming out unexpectedly-
But I'll let it be.
Back to angry, throw-my-phone kind of angry, which by-the-way I have never done before just now...
Why does this make me angry?
Of course he is actively involved in that community, it is his job, his specialty.
That is why! because I am not allowed. I am banished and exiled. It is now dually painful to be involved and if I did show up at an event he was attending, I would absolutely confront him. I want him to face me. And, do you know what would most likely happen, do you know the reality of what he would do? He'd try to turn it into me pursuing him. Slap me with a retraining order. I know how these things work and he has already shown he will protect himself and cover his ass, hide his mistakes no matter the cost to me. That is what I suspect. And is it worth it? to force him to face me?
Maybe I really wouldn't. Maybe I would just vomit and leave, in reality. That is not super likely though, because I hardly ever puke.
Mostly I am angry because his life goes on. He gets to enjoy his career and his stability while I am an unemployable mess. I am lost in what to do with myself and I am reminded of the hope that was so selfishly pulled out from under me.
the lost hope of; I had found my place in the world, my life was starting to make sense and I trusted them so completely. I was finding my strength... Only to be ostracized and then exiled without even the follow through on the promised help of finding another team to fall back on. Nothing.
Oh, no wait, not nothing. I still have the bills to pay.
and my broken heart and the map of gold to remind me that all the good things I learned now hurt like hell so even taking care of myself in the researched most productive of ways will wreck havoc on my psyche.
Yes. I am angry
Angry and fighting
-this IHC bullshit fertilized battle in my head
**and when I have to fill out paperwork for my new providers, -the psychiatry they felt I should seek (and I should) -but they did not want to help me find- I have to explain past traumas. HOW THE HELL DO I EXPLAIN THIS? "he lost objectivity, and I lost my support and my mind" I guess that about summarizes this...
Sunday, August 18, 2019
the evolving catastrophe of the Big Bang
Painting you become the god of your own world.
Mine are messy and disorderly but interesting.
I imagine if the Big Bang theory is correct worlds started something like the painted worlds that I am god to.
I am certain I will loose interest before my paintings ever evolve into beautiful orderly forms that make sense to others and work in a systematic, esthetically pleasing, anthropomorphic ways.
...Which is why I am not a god
and might not wish to be
big bang messy me, organized chaos, primitive personality
I am okay being human today.
**and just like my title, somethings I write really aren't meant to be that deep, but rather are funny to me and that is all.
**and just like my title, somethings I write really aren't meant to be that deep, but rather are funny to me and that is all.
Saturday, August 17, 2019
Cat- ass-trophy. Why is that so funny to me?
My daughter wanted me to paint with cat on my mind. I tried.
then I cried because cat is not what is in my brain.
I try to paint cat but it's turning into just that
me trying to paint a cat
but this is not how it works for me
because I am not a painter, an artist, or skilled.
I am form free
painting just for me
letting myself play with paint
and sometimes something comes out that is beautiful or interesting
even if it is that only to my daughter and me.
But even though she has loved my "raw" (her words) art
I cannot paint it for her. I can only paint what I feel. or what I play.
And I feel...
He
Sad
because he is gone.
and mad
because he played
and used me.
and mad at me
because I screw everything up
even if it is not really my fault
I know that it is
labels
they will give me and then use against me.
I am sad and mad and angry
hurt and messy
I want so badly for this to be over; this to be gone
but it is not
and the reality
is tragedy
a magic eraser cased in metal would clear it
but that is stupidity
and not me
at all
I want to be alive again
and the free
I had so close to me.
I want to be the free to be me
the illusion
he was selling me
...so
sad bad mad
and even strangely glad
but mostly
repressed
and not allowed to let things be what they needed to be
to see what they were
to know what I was and what was happening.
Suppressed
repressed
digressed
and now
bullshit depressed
so this is a fun weird post...
...and my painting is "merely abandoned"
and I am tired but feeling more rational again.
I have this luxury
and it is a luxury
so why not indulge?
I keep chasing my tail, trying to be so many things. For others? or for me?
constantly failing. while not enjoying the luxuries I have.
Right now I have time. I have support. I have paint. I have love.
It is broken.
But I have it. so indulge, I will, and see what catastrophe awaits me.
and maybe, just maybe, it might be that None I may see
as I am putting together the pieces of me
...or maybe an eternity of
catastrophe?
but that is my luxury
so I'll let it be
silly little poetry
then I cried because cat is not what is in my brain.
I try to paint cat but it's turning into just that
me trying to paint a cat
but this is not how it works for me
because I am not a painter, an artist, or skilled.
I am form free
painting just for me
letting myself play with paint
and sometimes something comes out that is beautiful or interesting
even if it is that only to my daughter and me.
But even though she has loved my "raw" (her words) art
I cannot paint it for her. I can only paint what I feel. or what I play.
And I feel...
He
Sad
because he is gone.
and mad
because he played
and used me.
and mad at me
because I screw everything up
even if it is not really my fault
I know that it is
labels
they will give me and then use against me.
I am sad and mad and angry
hurt and messy
I want so badly for this to be over; this to be gone
but it is not
and the reality
is tragedy
a magic eraser cased in metal would clear it
but that is stupidity
and not me
at all
I want to be alive again
and the free
I had so close to me.
I want to be the free to be me
the illusion
he was selling me
...so
sad bad mad
and even strangely glad
but mostly
repressed
and not allowed to let things be what they needed to be
to see what they were
to know what I was and what was happening.
Suppressed
repressed
digressed
and now
bullshit depressed
so this is a fun weird post...
...and my painting is "merely abandoned"
and I am tired but feeling more rational again.
I have this luxury
and it is a luxury
so why not indulge?
I keep chasing my tail, trying to be so many things. For others? or for me?
constantly failing. while not enjoying the luxuries I have.
Right now I have time. I have support. I have paint. I have love.
It is broken.
But I have it. so indulge, I will, and see what catastrophe awaits me.
and maybe, just maybe, it might be that None I may see
as I am putting together the pieces of me
...or maybe an eternity of
catastrophe?
but that is my luxury
so I'll let it be
silly little poetry
 | |
|
Friday, August 16, 2019
Dear Dr. Perri Cheri
Who am I?
You don’t know
I am your life’s work
That you gave up
Because you might love me?
Too much
I know who I am
But you do not
Don’t pretend to
You will break yourself.
Because you planted yourself in me
And left
The fire to attend to itself.
Too much
I know who I am
But you do not
Don’t pretend to
You will break yourself.
Because you planted yourself in me
And left
The fire to attend to itself.
Breaking Walls
Only one wall left
held up by a thread
if it should break
I have nothing
my whole life's work
shattered.
My box broken
alone and exposed
where do I turn?
all my energy is facing the wall
trying to hold it
to balance it
to keep it standing
for my protection.
while all around
and especially behind me,
where I can't see at all
I am already exposed.
But my wall is all I can see
my safety
that is breaking me
pushing me into the ground
while all around
I don't know what is happening.
Is this me
or is this you?
drop it
let it fall
Let it crumble to the ground.
Look around
Your life's work abound
-all around on the ground.
And now it can be found
These new little pieces,
surrounding me and you,
can now be used to build something new
Something we can walk through.
held up by a thread
if it should break
I have nothing
my whole life's work
shattered.
My box broken
alone and exposed
where do I turn?
all my energy is facing the wall
trying to hold it
to balance it
to keep it standing
for my protection.
while all around
and especially behind me,
where I can't see at all
I am already exposed.
But my wall is all I can see
my safety
that is breaking me
pushing me into the ground
while all around
I don't know what is happening.
Is this me
or is this you?
drop it
let it fall
Let it crumble to the ground.
Look around
Your life's work abound
-all around on the ground.
And now it can be found
These new little pieces,
surrounding me and you,
can now be used to build something new
Something we can walk through.
Wednesday, August 14, 2019
pretty little disaster or maybe rather Pretty Little helping the Disaster
I got permission to come in 3 hours late to work. so that I could sleep.
But at 11:30 I still wasn't sleepy, even though my brain was kind of strained and hurting. I considered just going to work and being on time. But I knew better.
My sweet daughter was concerned, so she told me to drink some chamomile tea and read something boring. "I know Shakespeare. That is usually pretty exhausting," she says. She is so funny.
I followed her instructions and started to read Shakespeare as I sipped tea at the table. She sent me to bed.
I am so glad I have her.
Prior to her care I also figured enough was enough and feeling as wired as I was I knew the clonazpam was probably not going to screw me up and make me too sleepy for the whole day, so I took 1/2 of one. With my sweet daughters help I did get another two hours of sleep out of the concoction.
I do think and hope this concoction and effort may stop another push into the extremes.
Currently I am still at work, with a not bad attitude but also not great. Loving people is not what I do right now. Right now. I don't care and even though I am not feeling overly tired I still just want to go home and go to bed.
Oh the joys of having a messy human head.
But at 11:30 I still wasn't sleepy, even though my brain was kind of strained and hurting. I considered just going to work and being on time. But I knew better.
My sweet daughter was concerned, so she told me to drink some chamomile tea and read something boring. "I know Shakespeare. That is usually pretty exhausting," she says. She is so funny.
I followed her instructions and started to read Shakespeare as I sipped tea at the table. She sent me to bed.
I am so glad I have her.
Prior to her care I also figured enough was enough and feeling as wired as I was I knew the clonazpam was probably not going to screw me up and make me too sleepy for the whole day, so I took 1/2 of one. With my sweet daughters help I did get another two hours of sleep out of the concoction.
I do think and hope this concoction and effort may stop another push into the extremes.
Currently I am still at work, with a not bad attitude but also not great. Loving people is not what I do right now. Right now. I don't care and even though I am not feeling overly tired I still just want to go home and go to bed.
Oh the joys of having a messy human head.
Fine lines
I fell asleep for like 30 minutes and then woke up again. And I am still awake, not feeling very sleepy which concerns me because I am supposed to work from noon to 10:30 pm tonight. Considering how I have been, I'll be an emotional disaster by this afternoon, especially if I don't get some sleep.
But then there is this other thing...
I have more energy.... I went running thinking that would do the trick. I took the dog because he is still not great on a leash and terrible on a leash if he crosses paths with other dogs so I took him to the park where I knew we would likely run into people with dogs and then that would also drain me, so I'd be tired when I got home. I thought these things (and more) very quickly by the way.
Damn it, still not tired
And even worse, I feel happy and hopeful. I am excited about my new therapist and I am finding this psychological thriller I have been living for the past year to be fun again.
And there is this:
It wasn't really about me. It was about him. He made it about him when I so desperately needed it to be about me. When I was paying for it to be about me. When I begged him to keep me.
It wasn't about me.
and how pathetic that is.
I was such a pathetic whisper of a human that even under those circumstances I was invisible or nothing more than a mirror. Which right now I think is pretty freaking funny. In fact I literally just lol'ed.
I don't know why I think it is so funny. Probably because it is, and probably because it is such a beautiful tragedy. A pretty little disaster. Maybe because I have figured all of this out and solved it so many damn times and yet I am still figuring it out and reaching new understandings. It might also be funny because I am so tired of feeling shitty and worthless when I am really not.
Every freaking house has multiple mirrors and if you break one it is bad luck so even if I am nothing more than a mirror, or the invisible piece of glass in front of the mirror, I have some value.
Now I am going to apply for a new job... and then maybe, hopefully, I will sleep
...and hopefully not be on the verge of another joyful manic fiasco.
But then there is this other thing...
I have more energy.... I went running thinking that would do the trick. I took the dog because he is still not great on a leash and terrible on a leash if he crosses paths with other dogs so I took him to the park where I knew we would likely run into people with dogs and then that would also drain me, so I'd be tired when I got home. I thought these things (and more) very quickly by the way.
Damn it, still not tired
And even worse, I feel happy and hopeful. I am excited about my new therapist and I am finding this psychological thriller I have been living for the past year to be fun again.
And there is this:
It wasn't really about me. It was about him. He made it about him when I so desperately needed it to be about me. When I was paying for it to be about me. When I begged him to keep me.
It wasn't about me.
and how pathetic that is.
I was such a pathetic whisper of a human that even under those circumstances I was invisible or nothing more than a mirror. Which right now I think is pretty freaking funny. In fact I literally just lol'ed.
I don't know why I think it is so funny. Probably because it is, and probably because it is such a beautiful tragedy. A pretty little disaster. Maybe because I have figured all of this out and solved it so many damn times and yet I am still figuring it out and reaching new understandings. It might also be funny because I am so tired of feeling shitty and worthless when I am really not.
Every freaking house has multiple mirrors and if you break one it is bad luck so even if I am nothing more than a mirror, or the invisible piece of glass in front of the mirror, I have some value.
Now I am going to apply for a new job... and then maybe, hopefully, I will sleep
...and hopefully not be on the verge of another joyful manic fiasco.
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