The Only Road I Know

The Only Road I Know

There are other roads, they say

You could take them any day

You're just another traveler

Just another face seen in passing

Why do you act as though you're any different?

Why do you feel the need 

To be treated as if you were special?

I may be just another traveler

I may not be worth noticing in passing

I don't think I'm special

But I am very different

And it has made a difference

I travel the only road I know

I travel the only road I can

~Fae~

Notes:

As someone who has lived with mental illness all my life, including suicide ideation and self-injury, I get tired of the kinds of people who say that those with issues like mine are "just looking for attention" or "just want to be special." 

"Just change the way you think!" they say. "You can do anything if you put your mind to it!"

"Just travel my road," they say.

Others say I am "brave" to be so "unique and original". I march to the beat of my own drum. I travel my own road.

It's the only beat I can feel, and it's the only road I can travel.

I'm not brave. I'm just surviving as best I can, which sometimes isn't easy in a world that treats people like me with disdain and/or pity.

OctPoWriMo 2015: Day 6: Brave

Brave

If I were brave

Wouldn't I be bold and daring?

Wouldn't I have the courage to do

Everything that I might want to?

If I were brave

Wouldn't I claim my freedom?

Live life without limits, be free

No matter what limits life places on me

Sometimes I think

That all the cheerleaders and motivators

Must live in a different reality

Than the one that applies to me

I try hard

I really do

But some days I'm too tired to even wish

Let alone make my wishes come true

What matters most

And maybe this will seem a cop-out 

To those more upbeat than I 

Is that I try

Sometimes that alone

Is an act of bravery

To just keep fighting the fight

Is doing it right

~Yeris~

Notes:

I didn't count syllables. I just wrote a poem using the word and sentence prompts.

OctPoWriMo 2015: Day 5: Love Comes Wearing Disguises

Image by Beverly Tan

Love Comes Wearing Disguises

We had been friends for years

You supported me during my divorce

With subtle Nordic style humor and a loyal heart

You needed a date for a New Year's event

I said I'd be happy to accompany my pal

We became aware that night

That there were possibilities between us

I was scared that I might lose my friend

I didn't want to start something that might end badly

My track record in love was abysmal

It was easy to see how I could fall for you

But how could you fall for me

I am plump and plain, and you had dated a model before me

You said you'd rather be with a friend

Someone who offered kindness and support

You didn't want to stay with someone

Who was always trying to turn

You into another person

Someone handsome enough

Sophisticated enough

To be with someone as pretty as she

People who had known the two of you

Wondered how you could trade in the luxury model

For the dumpy economy brand

You told them I made you happy 

I made you feel young again

You became a second father to my children

A great friend to my brother

With your warmth and charm, even my dad couldn't help liking you

You never had to try that hard

Just by being who you are

You made everything better

We've now been together for sixteen wonderful years

Married for eleven of those

The love I thought I'd never find is real

Sometimes the ugly duckling girl

Is beautiful in the eyes 

Of Prince Charming

For my beloved husband Nils

from Aurora (Sandy)

Notes:

I kept choking up while writing this, but in a good way.

OctPoWriMo 2014: Day 4: Real Magic

Real Magic

With a flick of the wrist

My wand I did twirl

Hoping I could impress 

A certain beautiful girl

I wanted to wow her

With my mystical prowess

The resulting blast from my wand

Left me eyebrow-less

My skills wielding magic

Were far less than fantastic

When I turned myself into a toad

The situation became drastic

That special lady, however

Had her own kind of magic

She came to my rescue

Before things became tragic

She gave me a kiss

Which turned me back into me

She said that was the best thing

I could possibly be

I married that lady

And all these years later

We have daughters three

Our lives couldn't be greater

We may not have a palace

But we have each other

And our three wonderful girls

Have a loving dad and mother

Magic is real

But you don't need potions

Just a few leaps of faith

And lots of love and devotion

So that is my story

Of how my wish came true

I wish that all of your wishes 

Would come true for you

~Seth~

Notes:

I didn't know where I was going with this when I started, but I had a lot of fun writing it! Except for the literal wand-waving and turning into a toad, all of it is true. 

I married my high school sweetheart, who saw a hero in a tall, lanky, bookish guy, and we have three beautiful, intelligent, and creative daughters. The youngest just started her freshman year of college. The oldest is finishing her Masters in psychology and intends to pursue a doctorate. The middle one is an intern for an independent ladies' clothing design company. She has a goal of being involved in creating attractive, fashionable clothes for plus size women.

I do believe in magic and, in fact, mysticism. Magic isn't flashy and over the top like it is in movies and television. It's generally very subtle and you have to watch for it, or you may miss it. I'm glad I didn't miss out on mine!

OctPoWriMo 2015: Day 3: Time Suck

Time Suck

I begin to feel

Like I'm not even real

Because I have so many obligations 

Obligations that exhaust me

Obligations that consume me

Obligations that doom me

Or at least gloom me

As the water drains around me

As the weariness surrounds me

I feel my life begin to flow

From a wound that seems to grow

As I attract more and more

Time vampires with insatiable needs

Which only I can feed

What happened to my dreams?

My hopeful, youthful schemes

More and more of them fade away

With every passing day

I watch them wash down the drain

As I wonder how I even remain

How did I get here

And can it end any way

Besides being carried out feet first

Bled to death by too many obligations

Too little money

And too many time vampires

Who want to consume every minute of mine

~Cie~

Notes:

The suggestion from OctPoWriMo was to create a shape poem using the word and sentence prompts. Well, this is the shape of chaos!

Actually, I didn't create a shape poem at all. I didn't even see that part of the prompt or I probably would have driven myself crazy trying to create a shape poem to satisfy the OCD part of my psyche. I literally have OCD, I'm not making a joke at the expense of those who live with the condition. As a person living with the condition, however, I reserve the right to joke about my particular manifestation thereof.

I've been extremely sleep deprived this week. This poem is an expression of that, as well as an expression of the frustration of never having enough money. I make 41,000 dollars a year, which may sound adequate, but it's not. I'm always having to fall behind on one thing to catch up on another. 

I have a very high interest rate mortgage plus lot rent. Here is a warning never to buy a new mobile home. If you are going to buy a mobile home, buy an older one and pay for it all at once. Never get a mortgage on a mobile home. If I had known now what I know then...well, I might have had to do it anyway. I was in a bad situation and needed to get out, and my credit wasn't good enough to qualify for a loan on anything but a mobile home.

I have two old cars that I have to keep running. I have student loans that I'm still paying off from nursing school to get my LPN license. I'm still in school to try and get my RN license, but costs for testing are prohibitive. I just finished paying off a bunch of medical bills and finally caught up on my utility bill. Then there's groceries and gas. It never ends.

I have a very intelligent son who is on the high functioning end of the autism spectrum. He is 25 years old and has never been able to get a job or finish his bachelor's degree because of depression and anxiety issues. I believe in him, and I believe one day he will triumph. My mother, however, constantly lectures and berates him, and I end up caught in the middle. My relationship with my son is good. My relationship with my mother is strained. My son can't stand my mother. My mother demands to know why my son isn't better yet when he's been in counseling for so long. And on and on it goes.

I was so sleep deprived this past week that I had a couple of what might be described as minor psychotic episodes, where I woke up doing bizarre things that made sense to me when I woke up but later had no explanation at all. I didn't sleepwalk, which I sometimes do when I'm very tired. I was still in bed, but engaged in strange actions, i.e. trying to pick the wall apart or tear the covers apart or picking at my skin. These sorts of things only happen when I'm severely sleep deprived, and they scare me.

Through all this, in spite of the fact that my mother thinks that my creative pursuits are foolish and the fact that I long ago realized that I would never be a success in the arts, I continue creating or at least being involved in creative efforts by supporting others. I will not give this up. It will be part of this entire lifetime, and I intend for it to continue to be part of any subsequent lives. It is who I am, and I will not allow anyone to take that from me.

~Cie~ 

OctPoWriMo 2015: Day 2: Stolen Words

My words have been stolen

My thoughts all erased

A shadow wearing my image

Has taken my place

There's no way back in

Somehow I've lost the key

Although I no longer remember

Please don't forget about me

Images by Cie

Words by Adam

Notes:

I almost feel bad for sharing a poem about a grim subject like dementia after the praise I received for my overall positive poem yesterday. However, although one can see the beauty in the clouds and in nature, somber things like dementia and mental illness still exist, and I do not shy away from discussing them.

Today's writing prompt at OctPoWriMo suggested taking a favorite scene from a movie or a music video, turning the sound off, and seeing what thoughts were inspired viewing the silent clip. At first I was going to do a funny bit from the old Batman/Superman cartoon, but then I was reminded that one of my favorite musicians (and overall favorite people) has had his voice stolen from him by an incurable illness which destroys not only body but mind. I knew I had to write about this.

Using some of the Photoshop images that Cie has created over time to honor Malcolm, I created the above poem. I tried to keep it simple and to see the incident through my subject's eyes. He was a humble person. He was courageous. He put others' needs before his own.

He never stopped fighting against the odds. He won against addiction to alcohol, though unfortunately not against addiction to nicotine. He wrestled with depression and social anxiety and was victorious. He approached the devastating dementia diagnosis the way he approached everything else in life: by going up against it with determination and dignity.

One might say that this is a battle that he did not and could not win. I disagree. Yes, the disease process has destroyed his ability to function in this world. Yes, the disease process will eventually kill his physical body. However, the disease is not and will never be victorious over one with such a determined spirit. 

One day we will eradicate such diseases. For now, it is important that we continue to remember those whose lives have been devastated by these illnesses, to not sweep the subject of dementia under the rug because it's depressing to think about. We need to remember, and we need to come out swinging and keep fighting until such diseases are no more.

With Hope,

Adam

OctPoWriMo 2015: Day 1

Clouds

When I was young

I dreamed of flying

Of playing happy games

With the fantastic creatures

Whose shapes I saw floating in the clouds

When I look up now

As a man around halfway through his life

I reflect on many memories

Some happy, some sad

I see in the clouds opportunities for new beginnings

~Adam~