OctPoWriMo 2014: Day 5

Copyright: fergregory / 123RF Stock Photo

Death March

In the cool of the evening when everything is getting kinda groovy

(Who the hell am I kidding? Nothing has been groovy for a hell of a long time.)

A cool voice greets me on the telephone

(Like that's going to happen)

Asking me if I want to come out and chill with him

I say "What the hell, let me get my coat?"

(Honestly, I'd probably say "Nah, I'm going to take a nap.)

Some think of autumn as a time of death

The leaves die and turn brown

Certain plants die 

Others go dormant

Some think of this change as sad

It doesn't trouble me

I haven't entirely changed my heathen ways

I used to turn to the worship of the old deities for comfort

This isn't devil worship, as the closed-minded believe

There's no devil involved

Satan is a construct of the religion I adhered to prior to this

They can have him

I left both these religions behind because of closed minds

Because of judgment

Because of a "my way or the highway" attitude

However, I still remember learning that autumn was not in fact a time of decay

It pleases me to keep this thought

Autumn is first the time of harvest

This is followed by renewal and rebirth

This is nothing bad or sad

We in modern times have structures which keep us from freezing

(Some of us do anyway)

We have refrigerators and pantries in which to store food

We don't have to fear as people did in older times

The change of seasons is not what makes me melancholy

The voice on the other end of the phone is the Grim Reaper

Honestly, death does not bother me so very much either

I'm tired of struggling

But I'm not so very fond of aging

I wouldn't care, except our society tells us that to age is to become ugly

I've never felt pretty, so now I really don't stand a chance

I don't like the change that age has brought to me

I don't mean the gray hair or a few lines--I could care less about that

(Oh yes, fuck you L'Oreal and Juvederm, and especially you, Botox)

I mean the lessening of my abilities

Which happen in spite of yoga or cardio workouts or strength training or any of that

The eyesight dims a little

The hearing becomes less acute

The body becomes stiffer

More vulnerable to disease

I don't like that much at all

I'm not quite ready to go on the final date

When I feel I've never really lived

I'm in the autumn of my life

Winter will be here all too quickly

Or not soon enough

Time goes by, with or without my permission

Welcome to the fall

~Helena~

Helena prefers free verse. Can you tell?

          

OctPoWriMo 2014: Day 4

Copyright: redbaron / 123RF Stock Photo

The Mask

Every day I try to put on the mask 
And try to pass for normal
Sometimes it makes me sad
Sometimes it makes me angry
It always makes me tired

Pretending is tiring
Trying to pretend
I'm like those who call themselves normal
When I'm not and never will be
But it's easier than always, always always

Trying to explain, explain, explain

Sometimes I just want to be
I just want to express what's inside of me
It isn't as scary as most of you might think
I generally don't harbor homicidal fantasies
I certainly don't plan to kill anybody

However, when people hear the term "mentally ill"
They immediately think "dangerous"
Although statistics confirm the fact
That most persons with mental illness are not dangerous
We are in fact
More likely to be the victim of than the perpetrator

Of violence

We suffer in silence

I'm loud on the page
I'm not loud in person
I'm not very outspoken in every day life
I do my job
I come home alone
My children are grown, and I'm nobody's wife

It's not that I'm ashamed
of the term bipolar
I'll say it all day long
BIPOLAR, BIPOLAR, BIPOLAR
There, you read it
Are you afraid you'll catch my cooties now?

You'll be happy to know that yes, I've "taken my meds"
How people love to bandy about that term
Isn't it fucking hilarious?
Helena takes lithium
Isn't that a hoot?
Next, let's laugh at the diabetic taking insulin
Or the cancer patient using chemo
Now that's really a great joke!

I'm not out of touch with everyday reality
I do not have hallucinations, although some folks do
Here's the shocking truth
That does not make them lesser people
There are even people with perception disorders
Who recognize their hallucinations
Who make peace with them

Other folks aren't able to discern between illusion and reality
They need someplace safe where they can have caring guidance
Most of these folks aren't violent either

Most violent criminals aren't "schizophrenic"
Most aren't "bipolar" 
Many are sociopathic or antisocial
Not all socipaths kill either
Though I really can't get along with them, as they overall lack empathy
(This is a clinical truism, not my assertion)
And I'm nothing if not compassionate
Being angry doesn't preclude that

I don't harm small animals
I keep them as companions
I have a few, I don't hoard them
Although I do have a bit of trouble getting rid of objects that others would probably discard freely
Let me tell you something about people who hoard
They aren't lazy
They also aren't there to be a spectacle for the modern freak show
Stop gawping at Hoarders
Stop thinking you're so superior to them
You just have a cleaner house

People with mental illness
Sometimes have trouble holding jobs
Often don't have access to proper medical care
Or dental care
Let alone psychiatric care

I've worked all my life
I can
That doesn't make me superior
It doesn't make those who can't work lazy

You wonder why I'm angry
You'd be angry too if all your life people made assumptions about you
Treated you like you were stupid
Treated you as if your problems were the butt of a joke
Used the name of your condition as a slur

Treated you
as if you
were
less than
human

Minimized your thoughts
Your feelings
Your soul

Stop.
Just stop.

I may overthink things

I'm asking the rest of you
To think about something
Besides yourself
For once in your life

To imagine how you would feel if you were always condescended to 
For being you
And being told that
You shouldn't be
You

Stop
Just stop
And think

~Helena~

Copyright: ijacky / 123RF Stock Photo

Notes:

Rulebreaker Helena did not end up using any of the suggested words, although she intended to. She just forgot about them. She has the memory of a leaky sieve.

Helena free-versed for fifteen minutes, because she is nothing if not an over-achiever...when it suits her to be one.

Helena lives with type 2 bipolar disorder. She's actually more okay with this than one might think, and navigates life pretty well. However, she is indeed angry, and she reserves the right to remain angry until people with mental illness are treated like people and not pariahs.

Helena also does not think that every last single neuro-normative person is a selfish prat, as may have been implied in the final lines of her poem. It is simply that she encounters the unthinking, uncaring attitude all too often: the attitude of "if it's not me, it's okay to treat it poorly and make it the butt of my jokes." Actually, that is not okay, and any person who does such things is, to put it mildly, an ass.

OctPoWriMo 2014: Day 3

Copyright: mikhaylovaelen / 123RF Stock Photo

Bittersweet

Sweets for the not so sweet

Need a treat

Been far too long since I indulged

I don't mean sweets to eat

Or fine meat

Some secrets are best not divulged

Not talking 'bout candy

I buy that

I know you're thinking I mean sex

Some may think that's dandy

It's old hat

When done it only serves to vex

It's not a sugar'd treat

It's not wine

Nor to indulge the fleshly need

It's nothing one can eat

It feels fine

I need my spirit to be freed

~Helena~

Helena's Note:

It's a difficult thing to feel free to truly express oneself, even among those calling themselves "creative spirits." When I first started blogging, I was ever so sure that I would find a vast community of free thinkers, especially among the bleeding hearts and artists. Overall, I've found quite the opposite to be true. Artistic types and so-called liberal thinkers are just as likely to pick apart and criticize those who don't fit the mold as the "normal" person. 

Often my only port in the storm of navigating life while mentally ill has been the venues for expression provided by Team Netherworld. I would just like to take this moment to thank our founder, Cie Cheesemeister, for opening this space to freaks like me.

OctPoWriMo 2014: Day 2

Copyright: kesu87 / 123RF Stock Photo

Two

He said "I want to marry you and live as two"

I said I wanted to do that too

Others sneered at what we proposed to do

They said we would never last as two

They said you think it's fun when it's brand new

But love will fade when you become more than two

We were still pretty young when we two became three

We were often too tired, but we were still happy

Four years later, we added one more

Going from a family of two to a family of four

Others said we couldn't last too much longer

To their surprise, our love just got stronger

Three years later, we brought home number five

They said for sure we two would no longer survive

We two have been strong now for thirty-two years

Countering the infinite, bleak predictions of our peers

~Sadie~

Note:

When my husband and I got married, we were pretty well fresh out of high school. He was eighteen, and I had recently turned nineteen. We had a lot of relatives (mostly mine) as well as some so called "friends" saying repeatedly that young romances didn't last. They gave us five years at the most. They made a lot of interesting predictions that he would cheat on me, because, apparently, no young man can go without inserting his manhood into any available orifice.

These predictions became even more prolific when I gave birth to our first daughter at the age of twenty-one. My husband was a very devoted father. He enjoyed spending time with his child. Some of his friends liked to brag about their party exploits to show him what he was missing out on, but he never thought he was missing out on much. My husband is not that much of a drinker. He likes a couple of beers while watching a football game. On a few occasions I've seen him a bit tipsy, but he doesn't like to get full-on, stumbling drunk--never has.

These predictions of doom continued through the births of our second and third daughters. After the birth of our youngest, there were also predictions that my husband might turn into King Henry the Eighth out of disgust that I hadn't managed to produce a male heir. He set straight those who suggested that he was upset with me for having only daughters by educating them on the fact that it was actually his chromosome that determined the sex of our offspring. 

We can't entirely distance ourselves from the negative relatives, but we don't see them that often. We did distance ourselves from the negative friends, who thought we were boring stick-in-the-muds anyway. I'd rather be a stick-in-the-mud than a doomsayer. It's one thing to express concern about a couple getting married at a very young age, it's quite another to continually predict that their romance will end in despair.

Thirty-One

Copyright: joophoek / 123RF Stock Photo

The year I turned 31

Our oldest girl turned ten

Our middle daughter turned six

And our baby girl turned three

That year marked my twelfth wedding anniversary

And the fifteenth anniversary of being a couple

Some folks think I did things too fast

That I got married and had babies too young

That at thirty-one, I had too much on my plate

Maybe that would be the case

For some who did things the way I did

But for me, it turned out just right

For Seth and me, it wasn't just desire

We were friends before we fell in love

We've been the best of friends through everything

And I think that's why it works

He never felt I tied him down or trapped him

We supported each other through school

We both changed diapers 

We took turns staying up at night through teething

Eventually, we both finished our education

I ended up a nurse

He, a high school counselor

Nothing fancy, but something that felt right

Just like our house

And the cars we drive

Some say he's too tall and skinny and I'm too short and fat

But I think we're just right

I thought so when I was thirty-one

I still think so today

And I think I will on every birthday yet to come

~Sadie~

Written for The Reverie

Heeding Haiku with HA: Three Words

Copyright: idesign2000 / 123RF Stock Photo

We descend below

Sea formed of pluvial drops

Octopus demesne

~H.P. Liebekraft~

The Prompt

demesne: possession of land as one's own

octopus

Pluvial:
of or pertaining to rain; rainy.
2.
Geology . occurring through the action of rain.
noun:
1.
Geology . a rainy period formerly regarded as coeval with a glacial age, but now recognized as episodic and, in the tropics, as characteristic of interglacial ages.

Cross-Posted to:

Animal Anarchy

Poetry of the Netherworld

OctPoWriMo 2014: Day 1

Copyright: carlanichiata / 123RF Stock Photo

The Transformation

You made the transformation

Leaving behind the chrysalis that was your broken body

Your soul flew free like a butterfly

It was a good thing

But there are days when it saddens me

And makes me angry

That I can't talk to you any more

That I won't ever see you again

I suppose I'll feel differently when my time comes

And my soul breaks free of the chrysalis of my body

But sometimes it's hard to understand

Or to feel positive

You have this set of people saying you have to believe the way that they believe to be allowed into the butterfly garden

You have that set of people saying that there is no soul, and anyone who believes in such simply is delusional

Sometimes there's no comfort to be found for those of us

Who don't think that either of those things is true

In any case, it's all quite muddling to me

I'm always glad you're free of your suffering

But sometimes I feel left behind and lonely and I just wish I had an answer that made sense

You're beyond all of that now

Enjoy your transformation

Fly free

~Helena~

In memory of my father