Can’t stop

Can’t stop moving

thinking

hearing

all the sounds

are they there or in my head

murmurs

whispers

irritating

need to do something

anything

need to be anywhere but here

trapped in this small meaningless life

want to feel something

not sure who i am

or who any of these people are

want to cry, scream 

scratch

don’t know how to stop the pain

the noise

 

Things I carry with me

We all have our stuff, our things that are important, things that we need to get through the day
I realized the other day that my bag is huge, but then, I have a lot of baggage. I always wonder why people carry what they carry.

So, this is kind of an explanation and kind of a purse exploration, and kind of a random thoughts post.

The most noticible things in my bag are a book and my notebook.

I read, voraciously, incessantly.  I love words, I love how they go together. I love delving into the worlds that people imagine. It feels like in a small way, there is a connection between me and the person who is telling the story. Today’s book is Midnight Crossroad by Charlaine Harris. I’ve always wondered how to pronounce her name… is it like Charlene? Or is it like plane, Charlaine… prettier that way.

I write, all the thoughts in my head. I make notes about what I want blog about, ideas that pop into my head, things I want to research. I make lists, grocery lists, to do lists, books I need to read lists. I write the poetry that needs to be let out, the rants that make me angry and all the dirty thoughts that I can’t do anything about in that moment.

A pocket knife, it’s useful and it makes me feel better. Because,  I carry fear. Maybe not in my purse, but it’s there.  Someone might attack me, rape me. I need to protect myself, my daughter. I remember thinking the other day that she isn’t afraid enough. I was talking to another mom and she told me she showed her daughter some news clips about kids being kidnapped so she would be more careful. I don’t want my daughter to have to carry fear with her. It’s exhausting.

A one hit. Hey, I need to calm the anxiety. Get rid of that fear for just a minute. I need to clear my head and take a breath. Just for a minute. People ask me if I smoke.  Yeah, I do, so I can breathe.  You can tell a pot smoker from a cigarette smoker when they answer “not cigarettes” to the question, do you smoke?

Dig deeper, the usual stuff, my wallet, my keys. My little bag with business cards, my square,  and extra phone charger and cord.  Some tissues and napkins, tampons. Checkbook and a pen. And a marker. And a pencil, just in case.

A nail file, never used, because I forget that I’m supposed to be perfect, my nails chip and I just rip them off. Usually they get so long that they break when I dig them into her back when I’m orgasming. Is that a word? Maybe that’s a good time to stop and use the nail file.

Lipstick, about 3 years old, because I never remember to care if my lips are red enough. I used to carry eyeliner too, but the little cover would come off and I’d end up with eyeliner on everything.

Jellybeans. Does it really need to be explained? Jellybeans can make anyone smile. Always carry jellybeans. Gummy bears work too.

Loose change, I never understand how I end up with so much loose change in my bag, its supposed to be in my wallet. Change must be one of those mysterious items. Like socks. I have so many single socks, I decided not to bother matching socks anymore. The result?  A bucket of socks that thrills my daughter amd mismatched socks. She likes to find silly matches for me. I’m happy as long as they feel the same.

We’re at the front pockets now, the important stuff.  More change,  index cards with more lists, 2 plastic diamond shaped jewel from a dance recital, that have the word inspire written on them. Hand sanitizer,  for emergency use. People use that stuff too often. You know there are good germs too right? And you cant build up immunity if you never get sick. Getting a cold now, means you won’t catch that cold when you’re 95, in a hospital and no one will give you the freaking hand sanitizer! Ever notice it’s on the walls outside the rooms in hospitals?  That’s cause now you have all the germs. Hospitals are germ breeding grounds, between the hand sanitzer and the air vents, it’s a miracle people get better. Open the freaking windows! 

A button, a Bobby pin, some mints amd my daughter’s hair clip from today. Her headband from yesterday.  A flower, in pieces.  He gave it to me at the park. It will probably stay in there until it turns to powder in the bottom of my bag.

A handful of pills,  motrin and benadryl,  because I also carry constant pain. My back, my joints, the headaches,  the horrible, pounding headaches. So my choice is, deal with it and take a couple motrin, or complain to the doctor,  so they can give me stronger pills. Yeah, that worked well. I wasn’t in pain but, I can’t take care of monkey if I’m passed out drooling. I’ll just deal thanks.

Another button,  a rock, this rock, it’s a special rock, its been with me through a lot. A worry stone? Is that what they’re  called? No, I dont play with it, a good luck charm? Maybe, except I don’t really believe in them. I know what it is, it’s a memory.  I’ll keep that one to myself though.

A saftey pin and another pen.  My good pen, my pen for writing. It’s not all that special but it fits in my hand right. It seems to help the words come out. I’m writing on a tablet tonight and its a pain in the ass, I miss my laptop.

My back pocket has the odds and ends, usually trash my daughter hands me when there isn’t a trash barrel  around but some other oddities too.

A candy wrapper, tissues, a bottle of nail polish,  oooh! Now I want to do my nails! A receipt, or 4. More loose change and a bracelet.  An allergy bracelet,  that I probably should wear and not just carry.  A metal disk the size of a coin, with a heart stamped on it. Another memory, a painful one.

So, those are my things. Those are the permanent purse dwellers, things are added all the time, and sometimes I even clean out all the trash.

You are in my past

You are in my past
So why wont you get out of my head?
I felt so small

Worthless
Unimportant
Stupid

I was never good enough
My choices were wrong, except when they were yours
My art is a waste of time and energy
My books are childish and an escape from a reality I need to face
My job is not good enough
My need to learn, to be a student is a stupid dream, a waste of money
I’m not fluid, just confused
I don’t feel like a boy, its all in my head
I need more pills, drugs to make me how you think I should be
Not those drugs
Those are the wrong ones

Slut
Whore
Crazy bitch
Bad mother
Frigid

I stood and cried without sound
I took every word she threw at me
Every negative thing that she hurled at me
And pushed it deep inside
The jagged edges of the words
Cut my soul into pieces
And I looked into my daughter’s
Sweet, innocent eyes
And got away before she learned to cry silently
I’m free
So get out of my fucking head

Fluid

I am gender fluid
Some days are easy
I’m ok with my body, it fits who I am that day.

Other days it’s awkward
I don’t feel like a girl but I’m not a guy either
I can deal with those days
I dress neutral and ask my people to leave off the fem pronouns

Then there are the hard days
It feels like I am in the wrong body
I have urges that I can’t do anything about
I want to cover up
I hate it when anyone uses a fem pronoun
On days like this I consider hormones

I don’t feel like this all the time, most of the time I’m ok with my body
Right now, I hate that I even have breasts, I hate that I am so obviously female
Most of the time I wish I was less curvy
More androgynous

Dystopia

society characterized by human misery, as squalor, oppression, disease, and overcrowding.

Hmmmm, that sounds familiar. 

In a dystopian story, society itself is typically the antagonist; it is society that is actively working against the protagonist’s aims and desires.

Again, very familiar

an imaginary place where people are unhappy and usually afraid because they are not treated fairly

Well, our society isn’t imaginary but an amazing amount of people are unhappy. Did you know that 1 in 10 people in the US suffer from depression? How many people are not treated fairly? Should I start listing? Every ethnic group other than white. Women. Anyone who fits into the LGTB umbrella. Non Christians. Children. 

Today’s society is a mess, and if you wouldn’t characterize it as dystopian, it’s pretty close. A large percentage of the US are not working. The government doesn’t classify them as unemployed because they aren’t collecting unemployment. That doesn’t mean they are working. People are discriminated against all the time for things they can’t control. Children are abused, not educated and put into a foster system that ends with them in jail. How is that helping?

Previous generations have left us a mess. What are we going to do to fix it? I would rather not leave such a huge mess for our children to fix. It’s not just one aspect, it’s all of it. Healthcare, education, job prospects, environmental issues, discrimination, oppression. How long before they take away our voices and it becomes illegal to post your blog with an opinion that doesn’t conform to the standard?

We all need to speak up when we see something that isn’t right. We need to pass on news that affects everyone, or we are going to end up in a society where rich people live amazing lives, and laborers, or unskilled workers live in poverty, disease, and squalor. Do we deserve that? Do your part, educate yourself to what is happening, in your community, your town, your country. Speak up when you see something wrong. Get involved in politics. Don’t let extremists take over our country! Keep religion out of government. Educate our children so we aren’t a nation of morons, following blindly. 

 

For to be free …

For to be free is not merely to cast of one’s own chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others. Nelson Mandela

Why is it? No more drugs please!

Ok, I’m confused. I get that there is a lot of news to cover but… Why aren’t we talking about the recent mass shootings? Why aren’t we talking about why they are happening? There is one thing almost all the people have in common. Why isn’t it being discussed? Don’t take away the guns. Take away all the freaking pills!
Do I need to list sources? Ok, fine here we go

This one is fucking scary

http://www.cchrint.org/school-shooters/

Another one

http://www.psychintegrity.org/isepp_statement_on_the_connection_between_psychotropic_drugs_and_mass_murder.php

And another

http://m.wpbf.com/health/ssri-antidepressants-linked-to-mass-shootings/20036082

Scientific journal

http://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0015337

Do I need to keep going? Ok, one more.

http://www.corbettreport.com/medicated-to-death-ssris-and-mass-killings/

It’s scary what these drugs are doing to our society. Maybe instead of gun control we need drug control.

Personally, I deal better with my mental illness without meds. I was on risperdone most recently along with ambien
and it made me shake uncontrollably. I felt like I had ants under my skin. I felt like I couldn’t stop moving. I felt like I couldn’t control what I was doing, I was on autopilot. Then, on meds, I had a major breakdown. I didn’t hurt anyone (except myself), but it scared me so much that I weaned myself off. I feel much better. The shaking, ants, the nervous energy. It’s all gone. No more autopilot.

Yeah, I still have the symptoms from my mental illness, but I can deal. I couldn’t deal with the illness along with the side affects from the meds.

I wonder how many people taking antidepressants long term don’t really need them. I wonder how many other people are worse because of them.

The scariest thing about those articles are the kids ages, most of those incidents are ages 12-19.