Do we know the hour it comes?
Or is it always a little bit of a surprise
Like finding the sweet spot
There’s a general idea of location
But when it’s found
All reason leaves
And it takes your breath away
Is this what death is like?
Standing Still at the Speed of Light
Writing, true life, random facts and fiction
Do we know the hour it comes?
Or is it always a little bit of a surprise
Like finding the sweet spot
There’s a general idea of location
But when it’s found
All reason leaves
And it takes your breath away
Is this what death is like?
I woke from a nightmare
Jaw firmly locked
Screaming pain in my head
There is no stability for me
Therein lies the rub
I tried
I spoke
………….
The nightmare resulted one regret
Echoing through time
You should have pulled the trigger
When my sight went black
You should have gripped a little longer
Till the beat fully stopped
Because survival has become my fools game
‘Be what you need’
Empty accolades in the theatre of life
Speak soft words of love, kindness, devotion
While the deafening silence is all I’m tossed
Criticism is all that’s pinned to my chest
I don’t think I woke at all
I caught a breath –
A fleeting moment
Undone in a blink
Shaky ground
Subtle sabotage
I’m trying
To find
footing
A grip
Every step forward
Is met with
A subtle
two handed push back
Some day the hope will die
For good
I chose this
This moment keeps repeating
A loop
The answer I claim not to know
Sits low in the pit of my stomach
Every time the moment loops
The pit grows
But
What if?
How many times can I ask myself this?
The loop comes again
Tonight I almost felt swallowed by it
Sorrow weighs heavy
I can talk myself out of anything
Almost
Until the moment loops again
Sigh
Watching Her through the window
I catch sight of my reflection
My cheeks seem to sparkle
The Moon’s gentle light, transforming the trails of my tears
Melancholy Grief
So much of myself lost
Given and taken away
The silver rivulets tracing cracks I’m trying to repair
Trying to feel worthy
I am not a throw away vessel to be used and emptied
This was (is) my failure
Her light reflects on my face, the idea I am wearing her magic, the only love that will protect me
Is my own
There are no heroes
There is no one to admire
Pretty Art
Is better
Anonymous
Can not trust a stranger
Can not trust a known
Can not believe the poetry from your lips
Disguising the monster
There are no heroes
There is no one with out a mask
An honest heart
The words I love that built worlds in my mind
Have tainted
My own heart and awakened a distrust
I long thought healed
The shards of my heart that were broken by a thousand little things
The shards I thought I had adequately glued back together with
Gratitude
Breath
Self reliance
And other illusions
Those broken pieces feel like they are cutting through me
Disappointments
Creative endeavours ignored or shelved
Words unheard
Words unread
Grief unhinged
Starvation of the soul
Losses of time and people
Emotions stepped on
Unconsidered
Unseen
Words stick in my throat
Fear of expressing
Pain
Overwhelm
The weight of all things in my head
To be called a martyr
Blamed
Shunned
No one ever asking why or where it started
I’ll give you something to cry about
Its not that bad
Grow up
Someone has it worse
You asked for it
What did you think was going to happen
You always figure it out
I can’t stand you when you’re like this
Too much
Too ugly
It was never supposed to be this way. There was never an expectation of smooth sailing, but she never expected to be the villain. The driving need to disassociate from everything, the draw of something to numb it all away is chomping at her mind like a rabid dog. The old family path never far below the surface. It makes sense that she ended up the villain. How does the saying go? The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
Sometime ago she decided to start removing the masks that she had so carefully cultivated since childhood. The sweet overachiever, the doe eyed simp wearing all of her damage like a cheap concert t-shirt. Stripped naked, what is seen? A scarred wraith. Full of wants and desires, the wounds healed with the ugly that lies beneath. So empty that all she can feel is the need to consume as she is being consumed by the awful thing inside her.
You have not tried hard enough. This refrain is almost louder than the rabid dogs begging for numbness. You should have been able to keep it all intact. You were created as a bargaining chip, yet what good are you now? You can’t hold anything together. The lives you touch, the lives you claim to help just get marred by darkness.
She opens her mouth wide so desperately wanting to scream all of the pain and vileness out of this shell- to purge once and for all this deep seated horror. Nothing comes, tears furious running down her face. Rage that she can’t pull, push or rip this monster that is woven into every fibre of her being.
Is it real? Is she real? Take the skin off to look. The sweet moment of searing pain, quiets the chorus of destruction for a pause, then it all comes back. Loud.
She remembers there are times she out ran it. She was ‘normal’, she always handles things so well, always a plan. Tools to help- tools of destruction. A shining example with a secret cost.
Some days it feels as though the villain is held in submission, that she has a chance, that she feels like the carefully crafted human she has always wanted to be. Some days the villain escapes and torments her- reminds her its all smoke and mirrors
There are hands to grab hold of as she goes down, and somedays she can, when it’s not so bad- but on the worst days she cries out for the Gods but whispers nary a word to any other. Wanting the gentle relief of the nothing, where its quiet and nothing lives, sleep.
She can not be seen this way. The day must move on, do you see the shake in her hand? the tightness of her smile? the absent minded moments in conversation? the dullness in her eyes? There is a full war going on inside her. And after all this time she’s still not sure the good guy will win, or if there ever truly was a good guy, maybe just the villain in disguise
It amazes me how the physical and mental are constantly working together and against itself, yet as a system we seem to separate them like they are two different entities. Those of us who work with people in pain know for fact that there is no separation. In the last few days I have witnessed the concerted take down my own system has pushed.
I sit here writing this missive, music pounding in my ears to quiet the internal noise. For months now I have been doing my best to keep myself steady in the what feels like never-ending stream of chaos. Some mine, so much from those I love, watching constant hits, so little reprieve and so much dead sadness. I’ve had some lows, I have had so much grace- but it always feels fragile.
The bad habits and masking always within easy reach, fighting to do the ‘good’ thing. Honesty vs hiding (provided there is a safe place). Protein, veg, water vs sugar, alcohol and carbs. Exercise, meditation, responsible medication use vs numbing with meds.
4 days ago a migraine settled in. Not surprising given the weather change, the joys of menopause and the amount of constant stress, that one of these gems would try to bust out of my brain. Raw burning cotton filled my head, the muscles down through my neck becoming cement and the inside pressure clanking so loud. Loads of water, migraine pain meds, ice and sleep. Waking the next morning the knock was still there but seeming manageable. By afternoon the take down had begun in earnest. The eyesight blurry, movement bringing waves of nausea, craving stillness, even from breathing and meds hardly touching it. The only thing making it remotely liveable was a little cannabis. Dulls the pain, gets rid of the nausea. But the opening for the ‘other’ had already happened.
So which monster took the opportunity in my weakened state? The one who hates me most. The one who wants me to believe I am only a commodity and easily replaced for almost everyone.
The ‘great massage therapist’- so many others out there, some I have trained…..
A partner…it might take time but maybe someone less complicated will come along.
A friend….. a mist that will fade quickly, there’s always another that can provide laughs, space and interest.
I leave no mark, no need, no want, no lasting anything, kinda like fast food. But…….
A mother…. That’s the tough one, that’s the one that will leave the biggest empty. That’s my biggest strongest weapon against the vicious monsters. That is the anchor.
So today, the headache has receded to a constant dull throb inside, the rhythmic chant of monsters, I am doing my best to drown out with music. The exhaustion of the last lifetime pouring down my face in rivulets. All while replying pleasantly to texts. Desperately wanting to ask for validation. Wanting to hear that my existence has meaning to others. Frozen from reaching out, not wanting to add this desperation to a growing pile of crap out there. Fear of being rejected. Fear of the fact my masks have always done such a good job that instead of being seen in need I am seen enough to get a pat on the head and reminded that this too shall pass. The absolute fear of having someone bear witness to the puddle mess I am. The fear of it being a never ending cascade of trauma and pain that will drain anyone silly enough offering physical space.
I told a friend a while back that I knew it was an absolute tragedy that I have only allowed myself the vulnerability to cry in front of another a handful of times in the last decade. Yet I have held many through their breaking moments, with out judgment and with the patient compassion I so crave. What I left out is that in those handful of times, less than half felt safe. Intentionally cruel or not, the other times I was told I am too hard to handle when I am upset or that of course I will get through, I always do..’pat on the head’, you are good now right?
There are spaces I have where I can vent but I have mastered the passive talk. The telling of the frustration, fear, complication, but no emotion, always written, never looking at anyone in the eye so they can see that I am about to break. Careful language as to not scare anyone. Being analytical, and a fast apology if I feel like I am being needy. Pull back and isolate until the need passes. Give nothing away. The amazing ability to switch gears if I can be needed instead of needing. Fucking hell I am a walking contradiction. I am in a loop of my own creation. One that offered protection when I was young but has become a prison that I can’t seem to make my own key for. So then, which came first, the headache or the bubbling tension needing attention? In some ways it matters not. This is what it is. And I know I am not he only one who has mastered this art of broken deception, yet it’s funny how lonely it still feels.
So for now, a few more Tylenol, water, wash my face and get to the gym. Let the heavy beats pounding in my head (music and pain) create a rhythm to push my self to. I’ll get through to the other side, I always do………….
What the fuck are you allowing to happen here? Are you so twisted by the myths and half truths fed to you by the trump wannabes that you can’t see the harm we are facing and have been immersed in since before covid.
Do NOT tell me the UCP has the best interest of any of us in mind. They don’t. They will keep the rich, rich and fuck the rest of us. This piece today is centred on the absolutely disgusting policy changes the UCP wants to introduce regarding our children.
But, but, parent rights…. Fuck you with that. In Canada that is not an actual thing.
Canada signed on with the UN Convention to protect the rights of children. This was ratified December 12, 1991. What does this mean? It means our children have the right to have a voice, be protected from harm, have access to healthcare, and be provided basic needs and the opportunity to reach their full potential. So tell me how is the current joke of a provincial government following this. Oh wait, they aren’t. Parents do not have rights, they have duties to provide these things. But the UCP has you convinced you have ownership over your children. You don’t. In many cases home is not the safest place for a child. So let’s explore a little shall we?
Your child has a right to have a voice. They should be able to speak freely about when they feel safe and when they don’t. They should be able to express and question things about themselves with out feeling that they will be punished. For many reasons this may not be possible in the home. If your child feels safer exploring these questions with a teacher or other trusted adult, instead of taking that safety away, maybe ask yourselves why your kid does not feel safe coming out to you, or letting you know they are questioning things about themselves.
This brings us to Your child has the right to be protected from harm. The UCP has followed suit with the ridicules rhetoric and fear mongering about the ‘stranger danger’ only upped the ante by targeting trans and drag. In truth children are more likely harmed by the people in their home. By outing a child to their parents their risk of physical and mental harm increases exponentially. And drop the stupid argument that this will facilitate gender transformation at an incredibly young age with out including the parents. Any of the ‘permament’ changes can not be done on a whim, before the age of consent and with out a lot of psychological consultation and counselling. The harm brought by denying gender affirming care has been studied and documented https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/what-the-science-on-gender-affirming-care-for-transgender-kids-really-shows/
This segways naturally into Your child has the right to access healthcare. The UCP has dismantled this system so badly for everyone that it is almost a moot point bringing it up exclusively for children. We are all badly in need of a working system for everyone. In the case of our kids, where is the mental health support? Trying to come out the other side of a poorly dealt with pandemic and listening to the adults in the room act like a bunch of ignorant twats about their futures has done a number on all kids. This puts LGBTQA+ kids at a much higher risk for substance abuse, physical abuse and mental health issues.
Your child has the right to have their basic needs to be met. There are many children, if forced to come out to their parents with out the safety of community support will end up homeless, denied the very basics they have the right to, because the family situation is not accepting.
Your child has the right to have the opportunity to reach their fullest potential. Denying them the autonomy of self denies this fundamental right. If their fullest potential includes a name change? So what. Yeah Danielle or should I say Marlaina, I am talking to you. This right is THIER fullest potential, not what the parent thinks it is, not what some stupid politician thinks it should be either.
Oh but these kids will regret their decisions. Uhhh ok, please see the above is regards to their right to health care. It is a myth that permanent surgical changes can be made before the age of consent and ample psychological counselling. But…puberty blockers. If you took a moment to actually read a little research on puberty blockers they have been used safely for decades to slow puberty for many reasons not just transition. But my cousins hairdresser’s, gardener’s kid totally regretted transitioning and they will regret it in the future. In a review of 27 studies involving 8000 teens and adults who have transitioned roughly about 1% had some regrets over their decisions https://www.voanews.com/a/how-common-is-transgender-treatment-regret-detransitioning-/6993101.html
In relation to big irreversible life decisions more people regret becoming parents. https://www.psychologytoday.com/ca/blog/your-future-self/202310/if-you-regret-parenthood-researchers-say-youre-not-alone#:~:text=The%20team%20of%20researchers%20who,of%20parents%20have%20this%20feeling.
But it goes against what God intended, God does not make mistakes. All I will say on this is God has no place in government. Pray to whom ever you like, and that higher power may be the be all end all for you- but you can not infer that for anyone else.
So those of you supporting this shit show of a government I ask you why? They hate forward education and science. Healthcare is quickly becoming a myth under their leadership. They do not support anything that will build a future for our kids. They will keep their rich friends comfortable while we all pay the cost. Never assume they care about you, you are probably in the wrong tax bracket or demographic. The way we care for our most vulnerable will determine the success of our survival into the next century.