Sunday, December 31, 2017

Fetch: Starting Fires in the Atmosphere

Copyright Patrick Jennings

Light years from here we're gonna burn up in the atmosphere 
It's not my line, but I wish I'd thought of it


 Copyright Jennifer Nichole Wells

Until the time when we can finally be together
To get started, start a fire, which is another line I wish I'd penned
Copyright Ramon Garcia

As I stand upon the qiao above the lonely river
My tears will drop into waters as bluetiful as your eyes

For Gerry from Pepper
and Gem from Cie

Prompts Used:

Stolen Lines from:

Monday, December 18, 2017

The Star-Maker Machine

Singer Kim Jong-hyun of the K-pop band SHINee
Death by self-induced carbon monoxide poisoning, age 27

The older I get, the more firmly I believe
That the star-maker machine is destructive
It is a soulless construct, spitting out shiny creatures
Performers promoted for the sake of profit
The more sensitive are all too often crushed beneath
The grinding wheels of the star-maker machine

~Cie~






Saturday, December 9, 2017

Once

Image by Jennifer Nichole Wells
https://tourmalinenow.com/2017/12/09/day/

Once in a day
Or maybe night
You gave me love

For Gerry
From Pepper

http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/12/fussy-little-forms-than-bauk.html

Tuesday, December 5, 2017

Silent Voices II

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

Silent Voices II

Your voice was silenced long before your heart stopped beating
Your mind unable to process what your eyes saw before you
Everything forgotten within the blink of an eye
I grieve for you, but I can't cry
I feel enraged, indignant, offended, and afraid
Afraid to express the rage I feel at this injustice
Afraid that those who read these words will see fit to tell me
That I haven't the right to be angry
That I should try to look on the bright side of life
But what bright side is there
To a mind being erased
I think that you're aware again
In a proverbial "better place"
Although that place may not be any kind of Heaven
And it may not be that much better
It must hurt you to watch your loved ones grieve
Perhaps it even hurts to touch on the emotions of the likes of me
Things that do not matter even a little bit
I loved you in my way
You mattered to me
I wish I could have helped you
Perhaps part of me believed I could
Up until the moment that I learned
Your heart had ceased to beat and you were free
I am so sorry, dear one
You deserved better
Than to have your voice silenced
While there was still breath in your body
You were a gift to a world which did not deserve you

~Cie~

This poem was written for the Tuesday Platform at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads.


Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Cousin Rachel


My cousin Rachel committed suicide in 2004. She was 41 years old. She overdosed on medication.
We weren't super close. Our families lived 2000 miles apart.
However, I was saddened to hear of her passing. I didn't know she was struggling so hard. I don't know if anyone did.
Rachel had what is termed "medication resistant depression."
People, including mental health and medical professionals, have a tendency to treat medication as a be all and end all. It isn't. For some of us (like Rachel and my son) it simply doesn't work. 
For others, like me, the "cure" is worse than the problem. I react badly to most medications. For instance, SSRI's, the darlings of the psych industry, cause me to become manic and psychotic, two things which I am usually not and I don't enjoy either of them. I have type 2 bipolar disorder, which causes hypomania rather than full mania and does not have psychotic features.
I am not the only one that SSRI's do this to. Motley Crue's Mick Mars describes a similar experience with SSRI's in the band's book, "The Dirt." Mick has a debilitating musculoskeletal condition called ankylosing spondylitis. When the doctor noted he was depressed, Mick said: "tell me something I don't know."
The doctor's response was to put Mick on SSRI's, which triggered psychotic episodes. Rather than questioning if the medication might be doing this, the doctor put Mick on antipsychotics, which really messed him up. Fortunately, Mick is a smart guy and realized that it was highly unlikely that he'd suddenly developed schizophrenia, which usually onsets earlier in life. (Mick was in his mid-fifties at the time of these events.) He stopped taking the medication and his mental state returned to normal.
At one point I was put on Zoloft, which caused me to feel as if my brain had grown tiny hands and was trying to pick its way out of my head. When I told the doctor this, he admonished me to stay on the medication. I didn't. Within a few days, my brain no longer had tiny hands. Amazing how that works!
Many people, including medical professionals, treat patients with psychological anomalies as if they are failures if their depression/anxiety/psychosis does not get better. Its bad enough living with these conditions and knowing we will never be "normal" even if we pass for "normal." It's worse when we're being shamed for something we can't change on top of having to live with it. 
I give a derisive laugh in the general direction of everyone who ever told a person with a mood disorder to "just cheer up," "just snap out of it," "just stop thinking that way," "don't be a Debbie Downer," or other such brilliant and witty admonitions.
I realize that it's a rare thing for me to be happy. The times when I thought I was happy I was actually giddy. It's not the same thing. Before finally learning when I was nearly forty that I had bipolar disorder rather than depression with anxiety or adult ADD or any of the other things that I had been diagnosed with, hypomanic states could be easily triggered by environmental factors. 
These states involved magical thinking. By magical thinking, I don't mean that I believed the genie from the lamp was there granting wishes or that I could control the weather with my mind. I mean that I believed I was finally happy and that I would never be unhappy again. I admonished myself that I would stay this way forever. When the elevated mood inevitably wore off, I was left with a high degree of self-loathing to contend with as well as a depressed mood.
I can't say for certain, but I wonder if Rachel might not have committed suicide if she'd been encouraged to accept herself as she was rather than admonished to "get better."
People with psych anomalies have the double-edged sword of not only being treated as "bad" and "wrong" but as failures if we don't comply and "improve." We are told that we are "being lazy," "not trying hard enough," "seeking attention," and any other number of harsh criticisms.
Stop trying to "fix" us and stop telling us that we need to be "fixed." 
Accept us or leave us alone.

~Cie~ 

OctPoWriMo 2017: Day 31: Wake Me Up When October Ends


October ending
I'd like to write about Halloween
But I don't have it in me this year

~Cie~

Last one and done


Monday, October 30, 2017

OctPoWriMo 2017: Day 30: Forbidden



Forbidden

It should be forbidden
For me to interact with others
I should keep myself hidden

My feelings unbidden
Should never be shared
It should be forbidden

Life with madness is ridden
My kind is unwanted
I should keep myself hidden

Who am I kidding
To emerge from my prison
It should be forbidden

I am more than once bitten
Yet like a fool I keep trying
I should keep myself hidden

To emerge from my prison
Is the greatest of follies
It should be forbidden
I should keep myself hidden

Cie the Stupid



The Cheese Grates It: Drawing Parallels

I couldn't find an appropriate picture, so here's a picture of a Babirusa

I know that I'm pretty much the most defensive person in the world and that I likely overreacted to certain things that people said recently. I have a tendency to do that. As a friend pointed out, certain things which got my hackles up were well-intentioned. All I can do is to apologize and to hopefully explain why sometimes well-intentioned statements about developing a brighter outlook can rub a person who lives with a mood disorder the wrong way.
I think the best way to explain it is to draw a parallel to certain other conditions I live with which are strictly physical conditions, but which can also affect my moods.
I have diabetes.
I would like to draw a parallel between my use of insulin to control my blood sugar and my use of dark, sometimes hyperbolic poetry as an outlet for the bleakness that often inundates my mind.
My body produces little if any of its own insulin at this point. Insulin helps the body process sugar in the blood. Without it, the high sugar levels begin to cause damage to the vascular system. 
Now, let's say someone were to say to me "if you'd just act like people who have a normal pancreas, you'd learn to be like people with a normal pancreas."
To which my reply would be "I will literally never be like people with a normal pancreas because my pancreas doesn't work normally."
"Yes, but if you behave like people with a normal pancreas, your pancreas will start to behave normally."
"No. It literally will not. If I try to behave like people with a normal pancreas, my elevated blood sugar will start to damage my body fairly quickly."
"Really, though, Positive Pancreatic Thinking will heal your faulty pancreas!"
At this point, somebody might be getting stabbed with an insulin needle, and it isn't going to be me.
Most people can see that the above scenario is a bit ridiculous (although anyone with diabetes can tell you that we've heard a million and one tales of "miracle cures" for our condition.) However, a lot of people can't see that they're doing a very similar thing when telling someone who lives with a mood disorder that if they just practice positive thinking they'll become a normal, happy person. It literally doesn't work that way.
I'll be 53 years old in February. 
I had my first mixed episode when I was ten. I didn't know that's what it was then, but with the knowledge I've gained, I now know that's exactly what it was.
I had my first severe depressive episode when I was twelve. I also became bulimic and made my first half-assed suicide attempt by swallowing a bunch of aspirin, which made me sick. 
I was labeled as overly dramatic and attention seeking and told countless times to just stop thinking and acting as I did.
I've learned a lot of coping techniques over the years. One of the ways I channel the darkness rather than cutting myself or self-medicating is by writing.
I've been through a lot of undesired changes this year.
I live with chronic pain and am not sure how long I'll be able to keep working. My situation is precarious. 
I would never tell someone who tends to have a positive outlook on things that they need to create things that are dark and gloomy. However, people don't think twice about telling me that I need to write things that are more cheerful and that I need to have a brighter outlook.
It also minimizes and belittles my struggles when people say things which imply that what I'm going through is some sort of a phase. If it's a phase, it's a damn long one. It's lasted most of my life.
Sometimes I write funny stuff. I actually do have a sense of humor, which most people don't get.
Perhaps people like me do serve a purpose. We often have high levels of empathy. Perhaps by pointing out the hurtful things in the world we can teach others to be kinder.
Hell, I don't know. I haven't figured it out yet and I rather doubt I'm going to.
I do know that I like German chocolate cake. That much I've figured out for certain. I wish I had some right now.
My mind doesn't work like yours. I know most of you can't understand a mind like mine, but I ask you to please try to respect that maybe people like me do know our own minds and maybe it would be nice to be treated not as broken half-people who need to be fixed, but as whole and worthy of consideration exactly as we are.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~


This is my Always Keep Fighting tattoo.
It's a real, permanent tattoo.
Some days its easier to keep fighting than others.
This is a reminder for me to keep fighting on those days too.
It's also a tribute to me and those like me.


Sunday, October 29, 2017

The Cheese Grates It + OctPoWriMo 2017: Day 29: Beautiful Ugly People


Beautiful Ugly People

Not seen as pretty outside
And the insides are too dark
The world tells them to hide


Sometimes they refuse to hide
They risk everything although they are
Not seen as pretty outside


Sometimes it hurts to have pride
Even though they have much to offer
The world tells them to hide

Copyright Prometeus +123RF.com 

It's hard to believe in the beauty inside
When you hear every day how ugly you are
Not seen as pretty outside


If you've a best friend who's along for the ride
It can be easier to make the scene although
The world tells them to hide

Per Ohlin
January 16, 1969 - April 8, 1991

If no-one sees the tears that you've cried
It's harder to be walking alone when you're
Not seen as pretty outside
The world tells them to hide

Love,
Cie

Note:
For better or worse, here's my crack at a Villanelle.
I'll be finishing out the challenge because I'm not a quitter, but I won't be sharing any more of my work. Honestly, it's a little tiresome when the only poems anyone wants to read are bright, chipper little odes to spring and twoo wuv. 
I'm sure everyone would have told Edgar Allan Poe to "just cheer up" too. 
I will leave everyone with the thought that maybe people whose minds work differently aren't broken things to be fixed and perhaps the reason we tend to hide and suffer in silence is because any time we share what's on our mind, we are admonished to "stop that stinkin' thinkin'" or are told that one day we'll straighten up and fly right, the often unstated piece being "and if you don't, you're a loser who just didn't try hard enough.
Believe it or not, I actually do have a "light half." I have a blog with no political rants or bleak ruminations whatsoever. It's mostly pictures of plants and nature. It can be found at http://cieswonderfulworld.tumblr.com

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~


The Cheese Grates It: The Dark Half

Tattoo template for Audrey II
Artist Unknown

Being treated like a broken idiot that just needs to be fixed is a major reason why people with mood disorders or other psych conditions don't tend to share their work with the public. Poetry can have a hyperbolic component. My dark poetry is far better technically than any light stuff I try to write. 
As to my emotions, the dark half is always there, even when things are going pretty well. Currently, they aren't going at all well.
People like to treat people with mood disorders like idiot children or a broken sub-human that can be fixed. Actually, our brains are not slower than the brains of people who see the world as sunshine and rainbows and can smell the unicorn farts. In fact, when doing mundane tasks, the brains of people with bipolar disorder who are in a euthymic (balanced) state "light up" far more than the brains of people who do not have a mood disorder. A bipolar brain is an overactive brain, not a slow one.
I also find that when reading my work, people miss the part where I'm likely more than halfway through my life and it's kind of insulting to treat a middle-aged adult like a halfwit child. It's also insulting to treat a developmentally disabled person like a halfwit. People whose brains work differently do not need to be "fixed." The best thing for us would be acceptance. I find myself snorting derisively as I write that because I know for a fact that it will not happen in my lifetime.
Perhaps the best thing a reader can do is to appreciate the art or writing (in this case, poems, class. The lassie fancies herself a poet.) and not try to fix the author. Writing is supposed to be for expressing oneself. When the only replies one gets to one's work are suggestions on how to fix one's flawed, broken self, and one's flawed, broken words, one does not tend to be prone to wanting to share said work. Just a thought.
It's lovely for you if you don't have to contend with a mood disorder. I wouldn't wish it on anybody, except maybe the kinds of people who think it's funny to bully others. Might be nice for them to learn a bit of empathy. However, assuming that anyone who isn't "positive" like you is broken, wrong, and probably stupid to boot is incredibly insulting.
You wouldn't tell a person to stop being so multiple sclerosis or say that one day you won't be so quadriplegic and you'll get up and walk like normal people. Anyone with half a grain of sense realizes that saying something like that is awful. So why is it okay to tell someone who lives with a psychiatric anomaly that they should get their depression out of their system (typical phrases include "stop that stinkin' thinkin'", "stop being a Debbie Downer,") and that one of these days they'll learn to act like normal (translate: good) people. 
Saying "sorry you're going through a ration of shit, hope things get better" is fine.
Saying "one of these days you'll learn not to be such a piece of shit" isn't.

~The Cheese (Certified Non-Neurotypical, not Stupid) Hath Grated It~






Saturday, October 28, 2017

OctPoWriMo 2017: Day 28: LONE


LONE
Lonely
Lonely me

I feel unwanted
I feel undeserving
I fear I'm fatally flawed

LONE, lonely me, fatally flawed

~Cie and Pepper~

Notes:
Here is another work which is autobiographical to the author and also descriptive of Fetch's female protagonist, Pepper Baiij.
I desperately want to get back to working on stories again. I am lost without them.
At least I met Gem on the astral plane while in a troubled sleep that I hoped never to wake from.
In a world that wants sunshine, flowers, chirping birds, and unicorn farts, I bring you depressing poetry. Hence, I walk alone through this life.

~Cie~

Friday, October 27, 2017

OctPoWriMo 2017: Day 27: For My Father


For my Father

Your love of nature
Memories of sweet springtime
Petals yesterday

The scents turn smoky
Today leaves crushed underfoot
Snow lies on the ground

The time approaches
Seventh anniversary
Of your leaving us

May 31, 1936
~
November 28, 2010

I miss you, Dad

~Cie~


Thursday, October 26, 2017

OctPoWriMo 2017: Day 26: Wrong For This World


Wrong For This World
(The tale of Yours Truly and Pepper Baiij, the flawed female protagonist of Team Netherworld's WIP tale, Fetch)

You are wrong for this world, my schoolmates said
You're weird and scary and ugly too
No-one wants to be friends with you


They're right, you know, my inner voice hissed
Echoing the derision or my peers
You are wrong for this world, my schoolmates said


I was always off on flights of fancy to other worlds
To silence the hateful voices telling me
You're weird and scary and ugly too


Sometimes a gentle voice told me I was loved 
But the other voice just laughed and mocked me
No-one wants to be friends with you


Space cadet, the other students sneered
Upon discovering my love for dreaming of the stars
My yearning for a place where I could be free


I always wondered if it were possible
Perhaps I had some sort of hidden worth
Space cadet, the other students sneered

Copyright Lemat Works

You need to stop telling people crazy stories
Try to be more like normal girls, my parents said
Upon discovering my love for dreaming of the stars

Suicidal Ideation by Megan Li

Locked up in the psych ward for a weekend
Is where I ended up in my desperation to pursue
My yearning for a place where I could be free

By any means necessary

~Cie and Pepper~