Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts

Saturday, November 27, 2021

Kestril's Rhythms and Groove: Assassin

Kestril's Rhythms and Groove: Assassin: Grief is an assassin waiting for the pause between forgetting and remembering to re-shatter your heart, leaving you attempting to find a way...

Keanu Reeves once said that grief changes shape but it never leaves. I agree with that assessment.

Tomorrow is the 11th anniversary of my father's passing.

Monday, February 24, 2020

Carpe Diem Love Month: Animal Friends: Senryu


all my little friends
there have been far too many
can't do it again

~cie~


notes
There are people who have said to me when I say that I won't get any more cats because I can't bear to lose any more cats that I'm being selfish.

I lost five cats in the space of five years, and I've lost many more before them. There are many that I can't think of without it bringing tears to my eyes. I've also lost quite a few people. I am pretty well numb with grief. I think that it's cruel to tell someone in my position that they are being "selfish" for wanting to avoid further pain. 

Inflicting guilt on someone who is already suffering is the ultimate in thoughtlessness.

Friday, February 21, 2020

Carpe Diem Love Month: Lost Love Senryu

Image by Goran Horvat from Pixabay

I know all too well
the feelings of hopelessness
many useless tears

~cie~


Sunday, February 16, 2020

Carpe Diem Love Month: Rainbow Bridge to the Dreamlands

Image by navallo from Pixabay

in a place beyond
over the storied rainbow
you and I will meet
perhaps in the land of dream
imagined by Lovecraft

~cie~


I will never get over this
I wish he was here with me

notes
I know nobody gives a flying toss about my notes, but since I'm pretty sure no-one will read this post anyway, what do I care?

I am recovering from a mental breakdown and from a TIA. I am trying to move back in the direction of writing what I want to write rather than what I think will make money. My health is precarious and I don't really know how long I have left on this planet. I worry like hell about developing vascular dementia. I'm not too worried about Alzheimer's because there isn't a history of that on either side of my family. My father had vascular dementia. My aunt on my mother's side probably had Lewy body dementia, although nothing was ever really confirmed. Hers seemed to onset more quickly than Alzheimer's tends to, although I have a feeling she was hiding her memory lapses until she couldn't anymore.

The TIAs I have had exacerbate my ADD. I don't have any short-term memory loss, but there is a change in my cognition. I blame this most recent episode on not having adequate insulin (thanks, Medicaid). My P.A. changed up my prescription so hopefully, this won't happen again. It probably could have been changed sooner but she was on maternity leave, and I am reluctant to see another provider. It is critical that I have a provider who treats me with respect and looks at numbers such as A1C, blood glucose, blood pressure and triglycerides (all things I'm taking medications for) as opposed to focusing on the damn number on the scale, which only triggers episodes of self-loathing and restrictive eating. Anyone who thinks that shaming large people (or anyone else) reinforces positive behavior is dead wrong. All that sort of behavior does is makes people avoid seeking medical care for fear of being shamed.

I write a segment called Henry and Henry for the Fetch universe. Henry is my female protagonist Pepper's beloved cat, who passes away suddenly. He is modeled after my Lafayette.

Henry Kalmar is the spirit of a flamboyant, openly gay New Orleans blues musician who commits suicide on the tenth anniversary of his beloved half-sister's death. Henry is modeled after Lafayette Reynolds, my favorite character in the show True Blood. Lafayette was the namesake for my Lafayette. He was played by the very talented Nelsan Ellis, who died on 8 July 2017 at the age of 39 from complications of alcohol withdrawal. Nelsan's sister Alice was murdered by her husband in 2002. This was something that Nelsan never got over.

Nelsan attempted to stop using alcohol on his own because he was ashamed to seek help for his addiction. This, unfortunately, created deadly complications. Here we have an example of how shaming people for addiction doesn't work. If shame worked, there would be no addicts, no fat people, and no smokers. I repeat that shaming doesn't work, it only makes people reluctant to seek medical care for fear of being shamed by ignorant health "care" providers.

I adopted my Lafayette's half-sister or cousin Tara at the same time that I adopted Lafayette. I suspect that both of them were very inbred. They came from the same feral colony. Both of them had to have most of their teeth removed because of feline stomatitis. Lafayette had problems with his fur falling out and scabby skin which I attributed to a grain allergy and began feeding him grain-free food which seemed to help somewhat. I later misattributed some of the signs of system failure to a return of the feline stomatitis and assumed that he would need the rest of his teeth removed. I had no idea, and I will go to my grave blaming myself for being so wrapped up in working that I missed critical signs. I will never forgive myself.

Henry the Cat meets Henry Kalmar in the Dreamlands, and together they become part of the team trying to save the Cosmos from an ultimate threat headed by Nyarlathotep, the smartest and trickiest of the Outer Gods. This ragtag group of reluctant heroes also includes a snarky Swedish spectre, a benevolent Yithian, a sweet-natured but foul-mouthed Scotsman who departs his cognitively impaired body at night to join the fight, a terminally ill British prog-rock icon, and a couple of good-natured ghouls. 

I let the story languish for five years in favor of attempting to write stuff that I believed would sell. It didn't, and I'm not going to back-burner my beloved project any longer. Would I like for it to have an audience? Sure, I suppose, but sometimes knowing that other people are watching prevents me from unleashing my creativity. So, whatever. 

Generally speaking, I am not the kind of person that other people gravitate to. I have kind of a prickly, defensive personality from years of having to defend myself, what do you know? I can count on one hand the people who will respond to this post, and I thank you in advance.

Thursday, February 6, 2020

Carpe Diem Love Month: Unconditional Love for a Wonderful Friend

One of my best friends always
Lafayette
17 July 2009 - 17 July 2015

you came to see me
in a dream so real I knew
you were truly here

~cie~


notes
I've no intention of arguing the reality of this with anyone, so if you've a burning need to prove me wrong, kindly take it somewhere else.

Lafayette was one of the dearest friends I've had. He truly loved me unconditionally. He did not see me ugly, the way most of the world has. He did not judge my large size or my repugnant face in a harsh way. He did not judge my lack of success or my physical or psychological anomalies. He just wanted to be my friend and he was always very happy to have me come home. He sat with me when I worked. He never would have done anything to hurt me, but things went badly wrong with his body and he was taken from me much too soon.

Today when I slept, I was given the opportunity to be with Lafayette again for a while. I thank the angelic being who gave me this opportunity with all my soul. I thanked him for allowing me to be with my sweet, fluffy kitty once again, for allowing me to be with my dear friend.

When I had to leave that reality and come back to my body, it broke my heart. I wanted to stay with a friend who never saw me through eyes of disappointment or disgust. Still, this experience allowed me to break free from the fear of physical demise that has been plaguing me for many months. I now know that when I leave my body, I will be with Lafayette again.

I have been having a fair bit of trouble physically, and I am not given the assistance I need. The amount of insulin I've been prescribed isn't adequate. I will go for long periods of time without insulin, and it is damaging my body. I am fearful that it will eventually lead to a hemorrhagic stroke because of vascular damage.

I am actually quite good about being compliant with using insulin as necessary. I just need to be prescribed enough to get the job done. I often refuse to eat so I can ration my insulin. This isn't right, none of it is right.

This world has been cruel to me throughout my life. It is a world that is relentless to those who are different. 




By the way, if you're one of those people who feels a need to tell everyone how much you hate tattoos, now would be a great time to shut up about that too. I'm not forcing you to get one. This one is on my shoulder and will be for life.

I've not been doing very well either mentally or physically in some time. I have a strong sense of doom hanging over me, but after my visit with Lafayette, I don't fear it any longer. I just hope I am allowed enough time to get the rest of my shit in order so I don't leave my son with a huge mess to deal with when I'm gone. I worry about him. He really doesn't have anyone he can rely on at all except for me. That's a scary thing, considering how precarious my health is.

Thursday, November 21, 2019

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2019: Day 20: Light Blitz

Image by Johannes Plenio from Pixabay

light the night
light my fire
fire of passion
fire of hell

hell hath no fury
hell hath no remorse
remorse for what's said
remorse for what's done

done to death
done and gone
gone like yesterday
gone in a flash

flash and dash
flash of light
light the way
light the night

night without dreams
night without end
end of the world
end of everything

everything ends
everything dies
dies like your love
dies like my dreams

dreams of yesterday
dreams of tomorrow
tomorrow never comes
tomorrow comes too soon

soon the sun rises
soon the night falls
falls from the heavens
falls to its death

death is the end
death is the beginning
beginning of a new chapter
beginning of a new tale

tale whispered in darkness
tale too ticklish to tell
tell me a lie
tell me the truth

truth is subjective
truth will set you free
free falling
free to run

run from the past
run from the pain
pain holds on forever
pain colors all

forever...
all...

~Cie~

Notes:
Today's November PAD Chapbook Challenge asked for a Light poem. So, I did a Light Blitz. It turned out kind of heavy, though.

Tuesday, October 15, 2019

OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 15: Mother May I Be a Mother (Choka)


Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay


when I was pregnant
it was a surprise to me
planned for adoption
told I could never give birth
it was not my wish
but it turned out for the best

~Cie~



Notes:
Because I had PCOS, I was told that I would never be able to have children. 
I married young and had been married for 6 years. We used no form of birth control because we believed we couldn't have children. We planned to adopt. 
While on vacation to Montana and Canada in 1989, I started feeling sick. This was shortly after the death of one of my childhood friends, who was working as a park ranger in Yellowstone. She slipped into a river and drowned. One of the places we went to see was the site where she died. I was having nightmares and wondered if my queasy feeling was due to the trauma of losing my old friend.
I felt sick for a month straight.
Figuring I was dying (and not entirely unhappy about that prospect because my life had never been particularly gleeful) I went to the doctor. She ran some tests.
I rather melodramatically asked her if I had a tumor.
She laughed and said "of a sort, I suppose. It will resolve on its own in approximately seven and a half months."
She gave me a referral to an OB/GYN.
For some reason when the nurse practitioner asked how I felt about being pregnant, it pissed me off. I didn't let on that the question made me angry, but I didn't like it. The answer, really, was surprised. I said I supposed I was okay with it. She asked me to elaborate, saying that I didn't sound convinced that I was okay. I said "well, I wasn't expecting it since I wasn't supposed to be able to have children. I'm fine with it." 
I guess she wanted me to be jumping for joy and walking about with balloons and banners announcing my thrill over my unexpected miracle pregnancy. I was okay with being pregnant (other than the non-stop nausea) but the rest of my life was a mess. I had a plethora of untreated psychological problems and nowhere to turn, and I hated my job.
After my son was born, my marriage started to fall apart. My now ex-husband and I were polar opposites, and both of our families were invasive and emotionally unsupportive. He's an Aspie and I had undiagnosed bipolar disorder type 2, borderline personality disorder, and obsessive-compulsive disorder. We were oil and water as temperaments went. As time went on, we became verbally abusive to each other and eventually started getting into fistfights. There was no saving the marriage.
We got divorced when our son was four. We started getting along better as platonic friends once we were no longer living together. Since that time we have on occasion had a roommate situation due to financial necessity, but I've always been glad enough for that to end. We're family now and I hope will be so till the end.

Tuesday, October 8, 2019

OctPoWriMo 2019: Day 9: What My Eyes Saw

I Blinked and the World Was Gone
Photoshop Manipulation by The Real Cie

My eyes saw that in the end
Everything was just a lie
Seeing is not believing
Hearing is deceiving
Truth is but a silent sigh
Perspective nothing but perception
Reality is, on one hand, subjective
And on the other hand as objective
As a knife to the spine
My eyes are but windows
To the lies my soul tells

~Cie~




Thursday, June 6, 2019

Troiku Challenge 2019: Day 5: The Aroma of Pine


the aroma of pine
and the young morning's fresh rain
reach my words

the aroma of pine
in a place long left behind
shadows of what was

and the young morning's fresh rain
cries the tears that I cannot
heart frozen inside

reach my words
but understand not a one
no-one can know me

~Pirate & Cie~


Notes:
The "sleigh" of this Troiku was written by Hamish "Managua" Gunn, aka Pirate. The three (utterly fucking depressing) Horses of the Apocalypse are my creations. Read them and despair. 
I am in rather a bleak mood today. Please, no comments suggesting therapists, drugs, or any of that sort of thing. That shit doesn't work for me. I just have to work my own way out of it.

Thursday, April 18, 2019

NaPoWriMo 2019: Day 18: A Soul Dull and Filled with Pain

I Blinked and the World Was Gone Version 5
Copyright The Real Cie

A life lost and lonely from first cry
A soul not soothed by any lullaby
Days are hopeless, dull, and filled with pain
Till the moment when the unwanted ones are left alone to die

~Cie~


Notes:
The poem style is Rubai. This is a brief poetry form requiring the story to be told in four lines. I believe I have accomplished this.

Sunday, April 7, 2019

NaPoWriMo 2019: Day 7: Sorrow Inevitably Follows


The things that used to bring me joy
Are now viewed through a veil of tears

When I remember times now past
Memories leave a trail of tears

When I remember those I loved
I must suppress a gale of tears

I dare not ask for anything
I'll wind up with a pail of tears

Every story of happiness
Always ends as a tale of tears

~Cie~


Note:
The NaPoWriMo prompt asked for a poem about joy and gifts. Technically, this poem is about joy and gifts, just not about happy endings.
The form I used is the Ghazal

Wednesday, November 28, 2018

The Cheese Grates It: The Holiday Season Broke and Mentally Ill Style


Today is the eighth anniversary of my father's passing. I thought about that day early this morning. I didn't appear to be grieving because I wasn't wailing and gnashing my teeth. I had already grieved watching him deteriorate as he did. There wasn't anything left in me. I've felt for a long time that there isn't anything left in me. I'm not cold, which I've been accused of a lot. I just don't have anything to offer.
The memory that comes to the forefront of my mind is my mother leaving two messages on my phone. The ringer wasn't working on my phone; I would be soon to get a new one. I was sleeping with the phone under my hand, but I didn't feel the vibration. The first message was her telling me that my father had died. The second was her telling me that again, demanding that I call her back, and finishing off the message with "you're never there when I need you." She didn't apologize for saying that, which doesn't surprise me. I informed her that my phone's ringer wasn't working correctly, that I had tried to be aware if a call came, but hadn't felt the vibration. Well, she never apologizes when she says hurtful things, so I guess she and I are even.
I fucking hate this new YouTube push to force people to pay for the service by pausing the playlist every so often to ask "are you still there?" No, Bitch, I died, but my zombified body keeps responding by saying I'm still here. The joke's on you.
In other frustrating news, I guess I paid the price for thinking I could buy yarn and get away with it. I ordered three skeins of yarn to keep working on my blanket, and some payment clashed with another, so I ended up getting an overdraft charge and am now $36 in the hole. Those fucking overdraft charges should be criminal. They only ever harm people who are struggling financially anyway.
Tonight's supper will be turkey chili and baked potatoes. At least those are two things I can ensure that my son will actually eat. My mother's right that he's kind of fussy, but there again, she refuses to believe that he's actually autistic. People with autism tend to have issues with food textures far more than people who don't have the condition. But, of course, my mother is always right.
I was just talking to my son about how we are both, in spite of what has been drilled into us by members of the extended family, very productive. However, we are not productive in the ways they deem worthy. We are terrible with housework--absolutely rubbish, let's be real. We are unable to work the kinds of jobs that they deem worthy. 
If I had ever been able to make my writing pay, they might be proud of me. A little. But it still wouldn't have been the kind of work that they would truly have deemed worthy.
All I'm doing as far as holiday decorations this year is putting a string of lights up on the fence at my son's townhome. We can't have a tree because the four-legged dumbasses will knock it over. When I was a kid, my father became a kid again every December 24, because that was when we decorated the tree. He loved decorating the tree so much and went way overboard. We had so many decorations. Now they never see the light of day.
Maybe one day I will decorate for the holidays again. I don't know. The first year we had a really nice tree was when I was ten years old. That was the year my father got a good position as a professor at a small college and we moved from Albuquerque to a suburb of Denver. Everything was so wonderful on that Christmas when I was ten years old. 
I realize now that my bipolar disorder onset when I hit puberty, which is why I was an emotional wreck during the holidays when I was eleven and trying to hide it so I wouldn't fuck things up for the rest of my family. 
We always took the tree down on the day after New Year's. The year when I was twelve years old, I was once again in a tailspin but trying to hide it. We got the call that my paternal grandfather had died from a massive heart attack while he was out feeding his horses. I burst into tears. I thought it was my fault that he was dead because I hadn't been grateful enough, so God took my grandfather.
I learned a lot about my father's side of the family that year. I wrote a cheeky poem about it recently, which is titled "My Family Skeletons." You can read it here
At the time, it was actually very traumatic. My twelfth year of life was not a lot of fun. It seemed like everything was falling apart. There was a lot of contention surrounding my grandfather's will, and I was being bullied mercilessly. I started self-harming, and on one occasion, I swallowed a bottle of aspirin. I ended up with a sick stomach and throwing up. I didn't tell anybody what I'd done.
So, I guess what I'm getting to in my long-winded fashion is that the holidays are not happy-happy-joy-joy for some people. I tend to have kind of a neutral approach to them at this point, but that's because I'm emotionally numb. For some people, the holidays are extremely difficult. It's supposed to be a happy time, and people who are already struggling get added guilt heaped on them for not presenting a happy face to the world.
Please do not shame or berate people who aren't "in the spirit" during the holidays. The joy is not universal.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It Festively~