Thursday, November 28, 2013

Inner Child Dialogue 1, 2 and 3

It is believed that we all have an Inner Child, one who has not grown
up and either, retains alot of the hurts we've buried, or is pretty
well healed depending on how evolved we are. Strictly my definition, I
didn't look it up in the dictionary or anything.

In therapy, I've started working with this Inner Child. Some people
use dolls, and I've read webpages that suggest one writes first with
their dominant hand then with their nondominant hand to represent the

I of course, am blind, so unable to do that. Therefore I've stuck with
the doll idea and right now somebody is working to make my Inner Child
doll look the way I did before I had all my surgeries.

Onto the dialogues, they aren't written out speciffically, so much as
it's noted that I've done them. I plan to keep an update of this from
now on however.

My first one I had was kind of clumsy
and awkward. . .
but I asked if she had any other name she preferred over Baby
Michelle. Nothing came to me so I took that as a no. So I officially
christened her Baby Michelle.
I asked her if she was feeling anything and she wasn't at the moment,
so I explained who I was and why I was doing this, that I was there to
help her, and that she was me as a Baby, so I was really helping us
and that we weren't separate, we are two halves of a whole.

Dialogue II:
The second time she had something come up, which naturally, was kim
and what I told you in therapy, so we discussed that.
What I told my therapist was that kim complained about me talking
about my friend in front of her. I was discussing how my friend was
doing in casual conversation with her and Becca (my sister). kim
complained that talking about my friend was depressing and she'd
rather play with Sweets (sister's daughter, also known as Cricket
among other things). Anyway, she carried on playing with Sweets and I
was silently pissed because I felt like I was being ignored and shot
down. As though my life and the updates I had weren't as important as
hers for example.
Thing is, it would have been like her saying something about one of
her friends and me telling her I didn't give a shit about her/her
friends. I mean, friends, other family members, coworkers and news all
come up during casual conversation and that's what it was, casual
So that left Baby Michelle and I pretty pissed.

Dialogue III, this is from last Saturday:
And now, after seeing kim this morning, I asked her to give me the
print copy of my autobiography back, Baby Michelle is upset again.
Here's why, in a poem I wrote:
I asked you to bring the print copy of my autobio back, you did. . .
blew through here like a hurricane. . .
gave me bulbs and garland and so forth for a tree, point out I didn't
ask about your colonoscopy. . .
So why after you left am I the one sitting here feeling pain. A not in
my gut, a cramp in my lower belly, pain everywhere and an
uncontrolable need to cry. . .
Reality is perception, change one change the other. . . you say you
know you mean nothing to me.
My brain wasn't on your colon, sorry I was doing other things. Sorry I
wasn't thinking about that.
But you know something? I know why I'm hurting and you'll never know
why you are the way you are.
I'm hurting because I know I hurt you, and unlike you, I have a heart,
I have feelings, and so I'm hurting.
You lash out like a 4-year-old and wonder why people won't stay.
That's why. You aren't 4, you're 50, but you've never learned to act
like it.
You hurt because you make yourself hurt and you lash out because that
4-year-old is still seeking attention she believes she'll never get. .
. and, that's the other reason I hurt, because I know that little
girl, I know her because I have one of my own and that hurts.
I won't mother you though, I just won't. I'm not your mother, I'm your
child by birth and by blood and by lineage. . .
I am not your mother. . . I. am. not. your. mother!!!!!
I. am. your. daughter!!!
But you know, I'm not angry, no, not this morning. this morning I am
bloody and I am raw, but I am not angry. I will not respond with rage
today. . . I will not lash out in response to you lashing out. . .
I will always love you. . . unfortunately (it feels sometimes), or
fortunately, depending on how one looks at it, these bonds will never
be severed. They are what they are and always will be.
So while I am hurting today and I am in so much agony I can't even
crawl, I am not angry.
That to me is a step forward.
I will always love you, but I will not care take you.
So, if you all didn't figure it out, between her complaint about my
friend, and then her saying I didn't care about her, because I didn't
ask how her colonoscopy turned out, Baby Michelle and I were very
upset and very hurt.
After that we cut ties with kim for the second time and I have no
plans to go back.
It's imparative that I protect my Inner Child (Baby Michelle), and
myself by extention from toxic relationships/comments/emotional abuse.
My therapist called it emotional abuse and stated that she is selfish
and that a mother by definition, must be able to put herself/her needs
aside for her child. Ovbiously, when necessary/within reason, but not
being able to have a casual conversation with somebody is within
If Olivia and I were discussing her friend (Olivia being the Daughter
I will have some day very soon), and I felt the conversation was
triggering (as we discuss in my online mental health group), I would
gently and calmly explain to Olivia that talking about her friend was
triggering for me at that moment and I would like to switch to another
topic and come back to her friend when I felt better able to handle
I wouldn't say to her what kim said to me.

Anyway, in a nutshell, that's what happened and where Baby Michelle
and I find ourselves now.

Wednesday, November 20, 2013


It's amazing how much power I've allowed you to have over me these
past 9 years. Hard to believe it's been that long actually.
And truth be told, you had power before that. . . however, I draw my
line in the sand there, because I was a child and didn't get it.
You have no filters, never think before you speak. It's as if whatever
pops into your head, you just blurt it out.
"It's depressing talking about your friend. It's much more fun playing
with Cricket."
And what I heard was:
"I don't care about this part of your life. I don't accept it."
Since when? My friends, online or off, are part of my life and if
something effects them it effects me. It effects me in the sense that
I feel for them and I'm thinking about them and so, I talk to my
"family" about them/their issue(s) like any person would.
And you're words say: "Stop! Reject! Move on!"
The drinking and smoking bothered the fuck out of me. . . why? because
it's not healthy and you're my bio mother and I was hoping you'd take
care of yourself.
But what I must focus on is me!
Give me my book back since you'll never read all of it anyway.
Here's your gov't phone back, I can text and walk, I don't need it!
Here's your bath towel and 2 hand towels back, I don't need them either!
In fact, take back the towels you bought me and everything you gave me!
Take back your genes and your words and deeds, take them back because
they aren't mine!
I am not you!
I will not be you!
I don't need you!
I am standing on my own 2 feet! Perhaps unsteadily as a toddler is
want to do, but I am there!
Take back everything, because I don't need you!
In fact, I don't want you!
Yes, I wish for a Woman to mother me, who is kind and loving and
caring, who will nurture me and tell me things will be alright. . .
that it's okay to stumble and fall and have success spit up backwards
on me (failure), but it's not you!
It never was you!
You're a toxic dump and I've been soaking it in!
Why? Because I "loved" you. . . well, no more!
I. am. done! And this time, I will walk away and never look back!
It will hurt as it's been hurting, but it will hurt and damage me much
more to stay!
Kimberly Kay Bennette

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Dearest Olivia Marie Morgan Medina:

Dearest Olivia Marie Morgan Medina:
I bearly know where to begin with this. . . I considered a poem and a
letter, but this? I have no idea what this will be.
At first I was angry, so I ranted. Then I waited for a response and
received none. Seems like I do that alot, rant and rave only to find
no solutions. . .
Then I started thinking about all the reasons I'm an unfit person. . .
your sister Sadie was outside barking for me. It was 12:10AM and I
went out to her but she didn't come in the house when I opened the
door so I left her. I really was intent on coming back in a second,
but a second turned into almost another hour outside. It was 1:01 when
I started typing this, I had just let her in, sat and petted her for
between 5-10 minutes and gave her a tiny drink of water before bed.
Anyway, that barking, the initial barking that led me to the door is
where this line of thinking started. I'm unfit because I didn't let
her in the instant I heard barking. I'm unfit because I rarely drink,
but when I do. . . I drink to completely numb myself (though I never
get there). And believe me, after all the surgeries I've had, I can
handle some drinks. . . try 6-8 shots, half a bottle of wine and. . .
I don't know how much tequila. The worst thing that happened was that
I gained new admiration for the floor. Not because I fell on it, but
because when I walked or rushed around the apartment, it felt like the
floor was literally coming up to meet me! Lol. What can I say? I was
happy that night (for a few hours anyway). I also have this horrible
self-destructive streak. If I can ingest it, I want to, even if
society tells me I shouldn't want to. Any drug, even illicit ones hold
an appeal for me. It's like I've walked the razor's edge and I like it
so I keep coming back to it. and fast driving? I'm up for that. 120
down a steep hill doesn't sound bad at all to me, even if I can
imagine my fractured self staring up at me as the life drains from me.
Then there's my few cutting incidents, my fantasizing about drinking
household cleaners and occasionally considering all the ways I could
end this misery once and for all. I have borderline personality
disorder, PTSD and major recurrent episodes of depression. What can I
say? I'd make you a fantastic mom!! Lol.
Then it got to a point, after I'd let Sadie in and came back in myself
where she was barking and it all felt to loud. The barking, though
cute and utterly adorable was to loud and left a ringing in my ears
and it seemed to bounce and echo off the walls. Once we were in my
bedroom with the door closed I couldn't decide if that made it better
or worse. She knew something was up and kept rolling all over the
floor, rubbing her face and nose against my nightgown, barking and
whining. . .
Before that, but after I'd let her in I stood outside on the porch
with my head resting on my crossed arms, which rested on the rail of
the steps. I heard the wind whipping through the trees and felt the
breeze lifting my nightgown and bringing it back down. My gown never
went far above my calves, but I imagined it to be an insistent lover
struggling to get it up over my hips and eventually my head. I
listened to the hum of lights in the trailer park, the occasional car
passing and the wind whipping and thought about you.
I find myself hearing Baby sounds in my head and I wonder. . . I don't
know that I could ever admit it verbally, but I hear the sounds your
cousin makes and it shatters me, makes me wonder if I really and truly
fucked myself.
It'll be hard to explain when you get here (the cynical part of me
seeks to write "IF" you get here), just what I did and why I did it.
I love your cousin so much. . . I hold her and I've said it before,
it's like the sun shines out of her ass! The flowers are in bloom and
I'm skipping through the lilacs and roses and dandilions and violets
and everything's perfect!! The sun blazes and the world is full of
sound and color and texture, it's brighter than the bluest sky you can
imagine and more pure and innocent and perfect than any childhood
dream ever was or ever will be again. . . and it's also crushing,
stabbing, jagged!! I'm cut over and over and over again! My insides
are raw and oozing pus, their leaking out everywhere and I can't do a
thing to stop it! I'm ripped limb from limb and my torso is sawed in
half and then in half again, and the halves break and burst into
halves until I'm in a trillion pieces and I can't put myself back
together! I'm the walking wounded and I can't explain the decisions
I've made and I wonder if staying here is keeping me from you. . . but
I can't leave!
She talks to me the way I know you will, she sings to me and coos to
me. . . She babbles and gurgles and I swear she says "Yay!!" in her
Baby voice and "Uh-huh!" I swear she does!! She trusts me and I love
her so much I think I might die if she wasn't here! I try to imagine
your Aunt from before and I can't! I can't because it physically
hurts! Your cousin has my heart and my soul and my spirit and there
isn't ANYTHING I wouldn't do to protect her!! I would crawl through
hell to reach her and swallow a mouthful of hot coals to get to her! I
would dodge bullets and even take them for her. . This isn't an Aunt's
love I don't think. . . I don't know what kind of love this is, or, I
think I do, but I haven't the strength to voice it.
I tried so hard to set boundaries Livia, please believe me I did!! I
held her the day she was born and swore I would make rational, sound
decisions based on my future. . . on our future, but there's nothing
rational about my love for her, for Babies in general. . . nothing!
It's like all rational thought goes out the freakin' window!! I tried
so hard Liv, I've just failed though and failed miserably. . . I can't
think straight anymore I guess. I'm all wrapped up and I keep
following this road and when it's easy it's fabulous!! And when it's
hard. . . it's the hardest thing I've ever done. I thought just
living, existing was hard, but this? This blows my existence out of
the water! This over powers everything!! This is irrational and not
level-headed and eratic and crazy!! It's absolutely ridiculous and
all-consuming! But then it's grounding and perfect and loving and kind
and patient. . . everything I'm not with the adults around me. It's
trust and innocence and the brightest light you can imagine, the
brightest thing you'll ever see in your life!
And yet, as I said, I find myself wondering if I'm one step closer to
you or one step further away.
I have no idea how this can feel so perfect and so imperfect at the same time.
About the only thing I gathered from standing outside and all my other
experiences tonight is that I love you! You have a name and nothing
more, but I already know I love you! I love you and, I'm trying
extremely hard to stay alive long enough for you to get here.
With Love,

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Ventus Extraordinarius

Once again stupidity rules the roost. . . Lol. Not that surprise is
warranted about that. . .
I'm listening to Music Choice 90's-early 2000's rock music earlier
this evening. "CLOSER" from NIN comes on. . . for those of you living
under a rock, let's explore a few lines.
"I wanna fuck you like an animal!
I wanna feel you from the inside. . .
I wanna fuck you like an animal!!!
My whole existence is flawed. . .
You get me closer to God!"
Yes, TRENT REZNOR is da shit! Anyway, my mother says to me, much
later, as in probably an hour after the song plays and I'm listening
to "SUGAR" from SOAD, "Well, when the Baby gets older I'll be shutting
that off. What's appropriate for you isn't appropriate for her."
Talking about my niece. No, really??? Ya coulda fooled me!! I thought
EVERY person listened to my music, young/old, infirm/able-bodied,
hell, they play it in hospitals in the NICU, that's what I thought!
Seriously? Fuck you!
My sister and I talked and I already know how she wants her Daughter
taken care of, even SOME of how she wants her raised later on. We
discussed it! I would never allow my niece to listen to stuff she's
not supposed to if I could help it. I mean, if we're in the car and
the person next to us is blaring rap music there's nothing I can do. .
. but I'm not going to intentionally expose her to songs with swear
words and so forth. I'm just as at home listening to I'm a Little
Teapot or Sweet Molly Malone as I am listening to "Fuck Me Like You
Hate Me" or "Closer". Jesus Christ!
And, that's not the first time or the first thing she's tried to
advise me on or "put her foot down" about (this I felt she was putting
her foot down about).
With earlier instances, taking care of my Dog for example, she bitched
that I wasn't feeding Sadie enough. She doesn't get enough food or
water. Sadie's an adult Dog! She's a CockerSpaniel and I feed her 3
times a day, a handful of food each time. I also fill up her water in
the morning and afternoon. In the evening I give her a much smaller
quantity because we're going to bed soon and she doesn't wake me up to
go potty, she just goes on the floor. So I limit her water intake and
put her out right before we go to bed.
Well I'm going to be the death of her and I'm doing the wrong thing
and I ought to leave her food and water down all day!
And about my bills, I need a budget. I do grant her that, everybody
would have a budget in a perfect world. This one however, is
FAAAAAAAAAAAAR from it! Apparently she hasn't noticed. Anyway, well I
better not expect her to pay for my stuff. Seriously? I talked to Dad
about it. I've never asked him to pay shit! So where does she get off?
Truth be told, I have a hard time receiving from people, anything
unless it's absolutely necessary because I feel like I'm supposed to
care for myself and fuck me if I can't because I'm a failure! Yes, I'm
starting to deal with that. Or rather, have been for a while. . .
Then she gives me a laundry basket today to loan. Well, she can't fit
my clothes in there once they've been laundered. Now, I didn't ask her
to fold or even do the laundering. I asked if I could go over there to
"do my laundry". That would imply that I'd be the one doing it. Well,
she did it all and folded everything. I like my method, putting
everything in my bag, but she wants to loan me a laundry basket, one I
won't use anyway, in this case, it's not the receiving, it's the whole
thing of me doing things my OWN way! But she thinks her way is better.
So next time I'll haul over one of my suitcases on wheels, because I'd
rather do things, MY WAY! In fact, if I had a washer and drier here,
they'd be labeled and I wouldn't go over there for that!
To me it's everything I do is wrong and I'm her child so I should let
her do everything for me and do it her way. Fuck that!! I'm a big girl
whose been taking care of herself for a loooong time. I've been doing
laundry at Dad's, my way, since I was like 20-years old. I even
mastered the laundry room in Boulder at Naropa U, so get the fuck off
It tears me up because I appreciate the thought. . . I don't
appreciate the advice or the way she just takes over and does things
"her way", when I have my own way of doing them.
And then there's talk of trouble in paradise and I may need to leave
this home and live with her? Fuuuuuuuuuuuck noooooooooo! I'd rather
live in a shark tank! At least then I don't have to concern myself
with doing anything, my way or anyone else's. Lol.

Sunday, September 1, 2013

The Baby Vent

I'm feeling enraged right now!
I'm feeling like punching you, as hard as I can, for as long as I can,
until there's nothing left of you or my knuckles!!
I'm feeling unquantifiable sadness. . . where is my Baby!!???
The one that you can't take away from me? The one I swear I'll never
share with anybody else (even though I KNOW I will)! The one I dream
about and feel kicking about and fantasize about! The one I hear
crying sometimes when there's noone there. . . The one I've named
I know she's not feeling well. . . but your taking her made me feel
like I'm not good enough for her.
I can't take care of her just as well as you do, and you've been
fuckin' drinking!! How the fuck does that work?
I know I'm good enough. . . My ego says I'm "better than!!" in fact. .
. letting my ego run the show isn't something I intend to indulge, I'm
allowing all of me to speak up in this post though and that's what my
ego says. She says I'm better than you because you drink and I won't
ever drink while caring for an infant! Not that you were caring for
her, since the family just dropped in while we were sitting there
talking. . .
I'm getting off track though. . .
I feel battered and bruised and bloody!
I feel self-righteous and broken!
I can care for her just as well as you (with my sister right there,
she didn't seem to have an issue), but you did. . .
Who the hell are you anyway? Not her mother, that's for sure!!!
But you take her because she's fussing and doesn't feel well. . . what
the fuck's the difference between her being tired and not feeling well
and her being tired and feeling perfectly fine and fighting sleep?
There is no difference in my book!
But you took her anyway. . . bitch!!!
Fuck you!!!
And empty. . . I feel empty.
The kind of emptiness that if I let it would drive me to my knees,
make me crawl on my belly and writhe on the ground and curl up in the
fetal position and cry.
Maybe that's what I need. . . to put this somewhere, to make myself go
there. . . I'm afraid I won't come back though, I'll get lost, in
there. . . in the Baby Maze. . .
Trapped. in. the. Baby. Maze. . . (sobs)

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Wakeful Wandering Exercise


It was cold out there. My hands, my ears, my nose. It felt dark and dreary.
I'm thinking of this, this cancer. I've seen it before, my Great
Grandma died of it. I remember her not remembering me. I remember how
hollow her skeleton was when i held her. These things I should not
think at school.
Then I hear cars rushing and some one in class breaking the rules by
talking to some one else. I feel the sun. It feels like there's a
whole other world out there.
I am in here and it is out there and I feel no connection to it.
I keep thinking of cold. Cold from the inside out, the kind that isn't
helped by wearing boots and gloves and coats. The kind of cold that is
so deep in me I feel there's no way to get it out.
I need to get it out but am unsure of how to get it out.
People say sorry. They tell me to take care of myself. I'm the
caretaker!! At home in michigan, I care for them! So how do I care for
myself here?
What am I supposed to do?

Has participating in this exercise changed over the course of the semester?
If I step outside myself long enough I'd say yes. I'm not exactly sure
how, but I feel more awakened and aware.
My counselor told me I have hypersenses. I sense everything and
everyone and then overload on it like a drug. That was something else
I contemplated during this walking exercise and I'm certain she's
right. It would definitely explain this over emotionality I've been
displaying off and on for my entire life.
It feels good to have an answer, or at least a ghost of one.
I am changed though. I'm starting to acknowledge things in myself I
wouldn't before. I also notice more things. Cars, water raining down
on us, then that little drip drop thing it does when it falls from a
leaf on a branch. So yes, it has changed and so have I.

Class Journal: A Mystical Experience

roaring, raging!
Ripping through my world of hell!
He connects me!

Voice II
Quiet, calming. . .
He whispers sweet nothings,
I sing with him, sway along,
then suddenly awaken!
I stand bolt upright and realize,
I have stopped singing!
I am lost in his words, not even the words,
But the tone, the breath, his vocal chords. . .
He caresses me with those vocal chords as this realization sinks into me.

Based on Boston Bombing, another class assignment

I am sick, very sick
Don't watch the news, this is why
Why a child? I am sick and empty in a sobbing heap.

My Epic Poem: White Privilege, based on Robert Campbell's Work

Death, despair, the end!
Suicide, murder of self, of the other.
Must leave! Run! Escape! Flee!
Naropa! Land of opportunity!

Drumming, chanting!
Belong not at sublet,
belong at Naropa!
End all, be all, holy grail!

Not holy no grail, class misery.
Race, sex, religion.
Not fair! Nothing is fair!
No justice, just injustice!

Feeling of white trash.
Guilt washes over me.
I am half, othered and separated! Again.
blind but half white.

Daddy is brown
Mommy is white
I am confused
Why am I even here?

I input and develop things and people
I am empathetic and responsible
Are these things really strenths?
Feels like just another burden to carry.

I am priviliged?
Blind, mixed race, overweight and disfigured face,
but I am half white, therefore I am priviliged
Bisexual, maybe not even bisexual, but just sexual
and yet I am priviliged because I speak English and can pass for a white woman

Living in poverty,
my family, unable to vacation without using the Christmas money to travel
Under threat of foreclosure and may lose my dear sweet KittyKitty,
but I am priviliged because I can get an education

Education not necessarily wanted let alone deserved,
Rather volunteer my whole life
rock and hold babies,
care for animals

Take this education and do good!
Even if doing good will suck my soul right out of me,
smother and bury me in others' pain,
Do good; for that is why I am here, to do good!

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Under And Over It!

Yeah go!

Did you hear the one about me being a punk?
Did you hear the one about me being a drunk?
Did you hear the one about me losing my nerve?
Or how I'm just another fucking sheep in the herd?
Did you hear about the money, how it made me change?
So funny to me, all the time that they waste!
Did you hear the one about me giving a shit?
Cause if I ever did, I don't remember it!

You can be me, and I will be you.
You can live just like a star.
I'll take my sin, and you take the fame!
I'm under and over it all!
I'm under and over it!

Did you hear the one about me playing the game?
Selling my soul and changing my name.
Did you hear the one about me being a prick?
Did you know I don't care? You can suck my!!
Did you hear the one about me trying to die?
Fist in the air and a finger to the sky.
Do I care if you hate me? Do you wanna know the truth?
C'est la vie, adios, good riddance, fuck you!

You can be me and I will be you.
You can live just like a star.
I'll take my sanity, you take the fame.
I'm under and over it all.
(I'm under and over it!)
I'm, I'm, I'm under and over it!
I'm, I'm, I'm under and over it!

You can be me and I will be you.
You can live just like a star.
I'll take my sanity, you take the fame.
I'm under and over it all!
(I'm under and over it!)
I'm under and over it all!
(I'm under and over it!)
I'm, I'm, I'm under and over it!
I'm, I'm, I'm under and over it!


How fitting. . .

Who's to know if your soul will fade at all
The one you sold to fool the world
You lost your self-esteem along the way

Good god your comin' up with reasons
Good god your dragging it out
Good god its the changing of the seasons
I feel so raped
So follow me down

And just fake it if your out of direction
Fake it if you don't belong here
Fake it if you feel like an infection
Woah your such a fuckin' hypocrite

And you should know that the lies wont hide your flaws
No sense in hiding all of yours
You gave up on your dreams along the way

Good god your comin' up with reasons
Good god your dragging it out
Good god its the changing of the seasons
I feel so raped
So follow me down

And just fake it if your out of direction
Fake it if you don't belong here
Fake it if you feel like an infection

Woah your such a fuckin' hypocrite

Whoah whoah

I can fake with the best of anyone
I can fake with the best of em all
I can fake with the best of anyone
I can fake it all

Who's to know if your soul will fade at all
The one you sold to fool the world
You lost your self-esteem along the way

Good god your comin' up with reasons
Good god your dragging it out
Good god its the changing of the seasons
I feel so raped
So follow me down

And just fake it if your out of direction
Fake it if you don't belong here
Fake it if you feel like an infection
Woah your such a fuckin' hypocrite

Fake it if your out of direction
Fake it if you don't belong here
Fake it if you feel like an infection
Woah your such a fuckin' hypocrite

Thoughts On A Suicide

Knife hunting.
Small, not sharp enough.
Doesn't even hurt. Too numb.
Stuck it to my wrist, pressed hard. . .
Nothing! A tiny scrape.
Noone will notice.
They won't even see, just like they don't see me.
Not even a taste of blood.
Thought about just biting, went scarf hunting.
Am I really that stupid?
Scarf is gone, can't remember where.
Must have packed it, don't remember when.
If it was day time and they were gone,
I'd just slam my head against something.
It's night time though and their all here.
So beautiful, so perfect. . .
Not me, nothing like me.
Why is it when I slide,
I slide so far and so deep?
Always deep.
It's never a tiny climb back from the abyss.
It's always work.
Knife is small and worthless,
But I consider trying again.
Feel like crying but can't.
Feel like running!
Feel like screaming!
This must be darkness.
Been here before,
to many times.
How many more?
Today will come to pass,
But one day won't.
With any luck,
One day soon.
Very soon.
Wish I didn't have tolerance built up.
Such a tolerance for everything. . .
drugs, alcohol, living.
To tolerant, too much.
Too empty.
Too lonely, too much pain.
Can't stop thinking about it,
Cutting my throat,
Slicing open my stomach and trailing intestines.
To dirty just like me.
To nasty, to sticky, to messy.
Just like me.
Too sick, too sad, too dull, too much feeling.
Too hopeless, too unhappy.
Too brokenhearted, too miserable.
Too crushed, too broken.
Too much love, too much hate.
Too much guilt, too much disease.
Too full of medications from the past, too many surgeries.
Too much, just too much.
Always talk about her being crazy. . .
I come from her and I'm crazy. . .
It's all a joke though, one big joke.
Why is her disease real and mine not?
Anything I have is fake,
Unless you can see it on me, in me.
They don't. I think they refuse.
This too will be chalked up to another goofy plea for help.
"You're leaving in a couple months! It's ok! You'll be okay until
then! Trust us!"
I don't. I don't trust you.
I don't trust me!!!
I'm not okay.
I wasn't okay before, I won't be now.
I never have been. I was never okay.
Don't even know where to go from here.
Leaving her will kill me, but staying will kill me.
10 fingers and 10 toes, cooing and content. . .
How can I leave that?
How can I stay?
I said it before,
She was the one thing that could hold me here.
I don't know what would hurt worse,
having a relationship with her by staying. . .
or not staying and then coming back here to discover she doesn't remember me.
Actually I do. . .
Her not remembering would be worse. . . much worse.
Classes are planned out, schedule is done.
It's experiential you know. . .
More experience, less academic rigor.
Still knife hunting, even if only in my head.
Rather be a nothing than a painful memory.
Keep seeing death. . .
Closed caskets and frozen bodies.
Made up faces and cold lifeless fingers.
Funereal dresses and vaults deep in the earth.
I seek peace where there is none.
Keep seeking solace where there's none to be found.
Keep seeking truth where only lies exist.
Keep seeking my place where there's no place to be had.
Keep seeking and searching and wandering where there's nothing to be
sought out and no rest to be had.
Even a 4.0 GPA is meaningless in this place.
All the men I've loved are meaningless here,
all married or unavailable. . .
Women to busy for me.
Money to elusive.
I only need enough for a Baby!!
Just enough for a Baby!!
Stomach burns with failure.
Wish I could vomit myself to death. . .
I've found modest amounts of comfort in her,
but how can I take from one so tiny?
So beautifully formed and adorable?
She's not mine, she's not mine. . .
Can bearly type that.
Feels like the words alone will be the death of me.
To bad that's just a feeling.
Need a knife. . .
Maybe I'll use that one if I get desperate enough.
Thought I was desperate enough, guess not.
Still feel the burning and the breaking.
Feels like fire, it is fire.
I said earth was hell, knew I was right.
There is no devil,
just me, my own worst enemy.
Maybe I'll run instead.
Go for a walk, run in front of a car.
Not the ideal way to go, but when there's nothing left. . .
Can't be helped.
Nothing else to do.


Came home tonight after seeing Baby.
I've never been so brokenhearted in my life. Never been happier
either. Happy and healthy!!
I can't sleep. I've laid in bed for the past 3 hours thinking about
ending it. Why is it that I always think about it and yet, haven't
ever succeded at it?
Not that I haven't tried, I've just always failed.
No prospects and I'll be 28 on January 14th 2014 if I make it that long.
Why haven't I just gone ahead and cut? I don't know.
I can feel it. I can feel the blood racing through my veins and out of me.
Nobody would find me till morning. She's really better off without me
if I'm only going to do this anyway.
No sense having her grow up with me for a few months and then ending it.
Might as well cut off the pain at the source before it gets worse,
before it hurts her.
Congratulations? I'd rathe be drunk. Rather stick a needle full of
poison in my arm, rather swallow a bottle of cleaning fluid, rather do
anything but be here!!
I fucking hate here! I hate there to! I hate everywhere!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I used to hate people who had a life. . . now I hate everybody! People
with kids, people with partners, hell, I fucking hate people with
prospects!!!!!!!!!! Even they have more than I do!
I hate people with money and people who can drive and people who are
happy and people who don't have kids and don't want them and are
I hate this and if I had will enough I'd end it already!
Even if cutting hurts, it won't hurt for long, just a little. . .
besides, I'm used to it. So I would normally be asleep when they cut
me open. . . who the fuck cares!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Where is my partner?????
Where is my baby???????????
Why the fuck am I so hated???????????
Why am I so unlovable?????????????
Why am I not good enough, smart enough, gentle enough, caring enough,
compassionate enough?????????????????
I know I'm not alone and yet, that's no consolation.
To be brutally honest, I don't fucking care that I'm not
alone!!!!!!!!! So fucking what!!!!!!!!!! Should I be HAPPY because I'm
not alone????????
Well fuck self-righteous fuckers who think like that! Kiss my ass!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Who the fuck are you to say what I ought to feel????????
Eat shit and die!!!!!!!! Go fuck yourself and fuck everything you
stand for while you're at it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Give me what I fucking want and then I'll be quiet. Until then, fuck

Monday, May 27, 2013


Hurt's Jay Loren writes:
I'll take one, 'cause I needed to feel it so much
I had an emotional crutch, but
I'm feeling bored so I'll take some more
'Cause nothing is happening

And once you told me that you loved me so much
I foolishly began to trust, but
Now I'm ignored and I'm taking more, till
Something is happening.

I'll take one 'cause I needed to feel it so much
I needed that thing we call fun, but
Now I'm ignored and I'll take some more, till
something is happening

Cause once I thought you were right here with me, so
Maybe I'll take two or three
Until I believe what I have seen is really happening.

Morpheus! how could you leave me when I had need of your love?
Stop holding back!
Give me one reason to think you're decent!
When I am Alone
Don't you ever try to bring me back!

With this one I needed to feel you so much,
I Wantingly longed for your touch, but
Now I'm ignored and I'm feeling bored
'till something is happening.

Because once I thought you were right here with me, so
Maybe I should take two or three
Until I believe what I have seen is really happening

With this one I needed to feel you so much
I needed that thing we call fun, but
Now I'm ignored and I'm feeling bored till something is happening.

And once I thought you were right here with me, so
Maybe I'll take two or three
Until I believed that what I have seen is really happening.

No! No more!
God, Morpheus! Why did you leave me when I had need of your love?
No holding back now! Give me the real thing!
I've got a reason!
When I am alone, alone. . .

Don't you ever try to take me back!

I see myself here. I took a sip and then it became 2. It became 3 and
4 and 5 until the small cup was gone.
It became 2 small cups and then 1 big glass.
Now it's 2 bottles.
The cups and glasses and 1 bottle days are over.
I don't do it every day, or even every week.
From January to May it's been 3 times in Boulder and once here. That's
a considerable pick up from only on holidays. Only Christmas and
Thanksgiving. . . only Thanksgiving, Christmas and my birthday.
There's always an exception to be made.
It's like the pills I've taken. . . only when I feel this bad, only
when I miss our Dad this much. . . only when I miss my sister that
much. . .
I'm losing my ownly times and watching them slip away.
They float by on 5 muscle relaxants here and 2 bottles of Mike's there.
They breeze by old overdoses and old hanging attempts.
They race past the time I pulled out my hair and the 2 times I cut.
I watch them whoosh by and realize I'm the only one who can stop it.
I don't stop though. It's like there's this little thing inside me and
no matter how good I'm doing, it pops up occasionally just to remind
me it's there.
Miss Self-Destruct, just like Trent Reznor's Mr. Self-Destruct. I have
a self destruct button in me to and I push it every once in a while to
see what'll happen.
Can my liver take it after all the drugs it's already absorbed?
Can my body take it after all she's been through?
And my liver does. . . and my body does. . . I do.
But I'll never know why.

Dear Aunt Margaret

I feel fortunate that I didn't leave anything unsaid to you. Perhaps
that's kind of self-serving. . . it's also true.
Having said that, I did make you a promise. I promised to visit you today.
I want you to know I was there in spirit and that I was staying at
mom's so I could come see you today.
I also hope I was able to provide you with a modicum of comfort
Saturday. I'm still feeling somewhat stunned, as I knew it'd be fast.
. . just not this fast. I'm feeling a bit numb and a bit not. Tearful
and I don't even know what else.
I said there was nothing unsaid, but I do want to reiterate my
gratitude for everything you did for me.
I remember you babysitting Fur and I, going to the park and those
tapes you recorded for me of Frog and Toad's Adventures and Whinney
the Pooh. You had me loving Pooh before I even knew about the TV show!
I have always loved and respected you, though Goddess knows I didn't
call or write.
It's interesting, after a person dies we always say we're going to do
better, but 99% of us don't. I won't sit here and say I'll do better
in the sense that I'll write and call people more often then I do now,
what I will say is that I will tell them all the important things
daily (immediate family) and I will tell extended family when I see
On that note I need to thank L for listening to me praddle on a few
weeks ago when I visited you.
With all my love,
Niece Chelle

Thursday, May 23, 2013

Thoughts on a Blog

I've been following Lissa Rankin for years. She's a fantastic blogger,
author, doctor and so on and so forth!
Her blog today was about her writer's journey.
It got me thinking. . .
I to want to be published. Not badly, I'm not jumping at it anymore,
but my story is worth sharing and well. . . dammit! I deserve to be up
there with a bunch of best selling authors!
On the other hand. . . she was discussing keeping the faith, whatever
that looks like for each individual, in the idea that the Universe is
always there, always listening and working over time to support us
That's all well and good, it really is. . .
I just find myself wondering though, if there are certain things that
I will have, without question, then why the fuck am i taking the long
way around!!!?
Things I will have include:
A Baby, Olivia Marie.
A partner, name only semi-important. I'll take an Elias or something
like that. . . something hot and sexy!
I will be published, book title "The Messenger Unveiled".
So how did I end up at Naropa getting an education in childcare and psychology?
Where is Olivia Marie and Elias or. . . Sexy?
I did, when I was younger, wish to work with children. I still do,
work however, isn't exactly the right word. . .
If Sexy has a million dollar a year job, which he will, I will be able to
1. Have Olivia Marie.
2. Travel the world helping children and animals, without a degree.
And 3. Get my book published and do public speaking so that I will
have my own money.
Er. . . and 4. Have at least 3 adopted children and a house full of
rescue animals.
So I ask you again Universe, how did I end up at Naropa? How exactly,
does this fit into my plan?
With confusion, annoyance, and also love and an open heart,

Monday, May 20, 2013

Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD)

This is the preliminary diagnosis I've been given. . .
Taken straight fromNIMH it says:
According to the DSM, Fourth Edition, Text Revision (DSM-IV-TR), to be
diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, a person must show an
enduring pattern of behavior that includes at least five of the
following symptoms:

Extreme reactions—including panic, depression, rage, or frantic
actions—to abandonment, whether real or perceived
A pattern of intense and stormy relationships with family, friends,
and loved ones, often veering from extreme closeness and love
(idealization) to extreme dislike or anger (devaluation)
Distorted and unstable self-image or sense of self, which can result
in sudden changes in feelings, opinions, values, or plans and goals
for the future (such as school or career choices)
Impulsive and often dangerous behaviors, such as spending sprees,
unsafe sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, and binge eating
Recurring suicidal behaviors or threats or self-harming behavior, such
as cutting
Intense and highly changeable moods, with each episode lasting from a
few hours to a few days
Chronic feelings of emptiness and/or boredom
Inappropriate, intense anger or problems controlling anger
Having stress-related paranoid thoughts or severe dissociative
symptoms, such as feeling cut off from oneself, observing oneself from
outside the body, or losing touch with reality.

The ones that stand out, and that I have consistently:
1. Distorted and unstable self-image or sense of self, which can
result in sudden changes in feelings, opinions, values, or plans and
goals for the future (such as school or career choices)
2. Impulsive and often dangerous behaviors, such as (spending sprees),
unsafe sex, (substance abuse), reckless driving, and (binge eating).
The () indicate behaviors I've participated in over the years.
3. Recurring suicidal behaviors or threats or self-harming behavior,
such as cutting
4. Intense and highly changeable moods, with each episode lasting from
a few hours to a few days
5. Chronic feelings of emptiness and/or boredom
6. Inappropriate, intense anger or problems controlling anger

Technically there's a 7 in there, I'm just not sure how to place it.
Extreme reactions—including panic, depression, rage, or frantic
actions—to abandonment, whether real or perceived.
I have a fear of abandonment, but I'm coming up empty on things I've
done to try to ward it off. It's just a constant fear I have.

When I was first given the diagnosis I just thought ok, not to bad. .
. now that I'm back in mi and looking for a counselor I'm reading up
on it and my feelings are definitely not just ok. anymore.
Of course, there's also my PTSD traits and my diagnosis of major,
recurrent episodes of depression.
They say it's common to have co-existing disorders.
I've always thought I carried this rage because of my life experiences.
I have been pretty caged here honestly.
Truth be told, the only reason why I haven't gotten into worse
trouble, unsafe sex, or taking illegal substances is just because I've
been watched (so to speak) closely. Not to closely, but I don't know
anyone who does drugs, so I don't do them. If I did, I would. . . and
I'm sure unsafe sex would come in right after that.
If somebody said they'd sleep with me right now, today, I'd take them up on it.
As for wreckless driving, ovbiously I've never done it, but I've
encouraged it on a number of occasions.
It's nice to have a name for this self destruction that lives in me
and weird at the same time.
Suppose there isn't much else to say at this point. As I said, it's
preliminary, but on the other hand, if I read through the entire DSM
IV handbook I'd probably find myself thinking I had almost every
mental problem in there. Lol.


"Creep" blasts,
Thinking of the past!
Throw back lunch,
So delicious!!!
It looks so inviting,
Safety, cocoon, protection. . .
I go there,
Lay wrapped in music,
Swaddled by hands of memories long since forgotten,
Except for when they aren't.
Tool, "Stinkfist" blares and I smile.
There is comfort here. . .
If nowhere else,
There is comfort here. . .

Saturday, May 18, 2013


Wildly raving!
Eternally angry!
Soft-spoken, quiet, calming. . .
Whispering, wise, wonderful. . .
Voice is promising, assuring. . .
Needing, pleading, begging, wanting. . .
Desire, fire, burning, purring, roaring!
liquid, silk, skin, dreads, body. . .
Bull in china shop!
Contradictory, rocker, raver, entertainer. . .
Destroyer, crusher, performer!
Father, son, unknown. . .
Ablaze, crazy!
Crowd pleaser. . .
Lover. . .
ELIAS, wowing crowds for over a decade now!


Hug me!
Tease me!
Hold me tight. . .
Kiss me gently. . .
Sing to me softly. . .
Make love to me. . .
Your voice echoes loud, harsh!
It ravages, rapes, rips open!
Shredded, busted, broken, bloodletting!
Raving, piercing, shocking, uncomprehending!
Decayed, destroyed, decimated, annihilated!
Vocals tear throat,
sobs, choking, dying,
Raw, bleeding!
Crushed, crucified!
Calming. . .
Soothed. . .
SHAUN MORGAN soothes savage souls.


Looking backward,
Wondering what for?
Thinking how I've grown,
I've gained!
I feel like it opened doors.
It also appears to have closed doors temporarily.
Are they closed?
Am I just imagining their closed?
Could they really still be wide open?
I live here, in the unknown.

The Walk

Fear, freakout!!
Unknown, unsafe, frightened!
Birds, fear, breeze, fear!
Music, fear, cars, fear, thoughts.
Birds, breeze, dogs, chickens.
Breeze, warmth, relaxation.
Calming, soothing.
I thank me for my bravery!
I went for a walk on the road without anyone with me today!

Dear Mark

Hey Bro,
What's up?
I have to warn you now, I have no idea where this is going. I feel
like writing a long ass letter, a poem, an I don't know what else.
I just heard The Offspring Gone Away and naturally thought of you.
There are some songs that are just your songs. Maybe you didn't tell
me they were your favorites, like Gone Away, but it just makes me
think of you. Then there's Champaign Supernova, which you all heard at
your army graduation, so that makes me think of you because you
actually talked about it.
Anyway, I'm home on break. I'm attending Naropa U now in Boulder Co. A
looooong way from anywhere I ever thought I'd be, but then again,
neither of us ended up where we thought we'd end up, right?
You may have grown up to hate your life, but as a wide-eyed little boy
I'm sure you never imagined yourself in a pile of ashes.
So I'm home on break and Fur's nearly ready to deliver her Baby Girl.
I know you'll be up there watching over us all. . . or, down here,
whatever, where ever heaven is.
I was big on Sylvia Brown for a while, looking for something to
believe in. Honestly, I like some of what she says, then again I liked
what Rev. McCummin's had to say and he doesn't preach at the Methodist
church anymore.
I dunno. I dunno much of anything these days. At Naropa they teach us
about Basic Goodness. They say we all have it. Serial killers have it?
I just don't see it. They also teach about meditation. I meditate like
Charlie Chaplin by the way. Never realized just how much I HEAR!,
until I tried to meditate! Lol. They teach about mystical religious
experiences, ultimate reality, when you're one with that whatever it
is that we all have and connect to. Then I'd go back to my apartment
and feel like cutting because I had no friends to hang out with unless
I wanted to study with them. I didn't. I study alone and work and play
with others. Lol. Nobody received my memo. They have taxis in Boulder
and VIA transit, and all kinds of ways to get around. You can walk
around Mark!! Fancy that! Walking! Whoever heard of such a thing in
montrose michigan?
It's been difficult coming back here. Not because of any fundamental
difference in connecting between the family and I, but because of the
loss of transportation. Wednesday was a painful day. I felt like
cutting, thought about hanging. Last night I drank and thought about
cutting again. I kept stroking my wrists, feeling the tendons and
thinking how easy it would be to cut, how I wouldn't feel a thing if I
just caressed my skin with the blade. It felt good, like thinking
about making love or something. Something inside me says this is so
fucked up, but the other thought almost always wins, even if I don't
act on it.
I feel like you, like that wide-eyed innocence is gone and I keep
looking and looking but it's nowhere to be found! It just got up and
left! I feel like Bill Cosby, which would be funny were it not
serious. He says I don't know where I lost it, I don't know when I
lost it, I don't know if I ever had it. That's how I feel.
I think about being with you. If I just cut, just little cuts, but
deep, I could be with you again.
I'm starting to forget, no, have been forgetting, what you smell like,
what you're laugh was like, what it felt like when you held me.
How does anybody forget that? You'd think of all the people in the
world I wouldn't forget! I know you're here, that's why I'm writing.
You haven't left me even though I've tried to bury the painfulness of
losing you.
I don't try to forget now. I just remember.
I've been told to wish on stars and all I have to do is want something
and let myself have it! Um, Halloweentown anyone? It sounds so
cliched. . . course, that means it's true. Dammit all! Since when did
it become EASIER to live in a lack thought mentality than a have
thought mentality? I suppose from the time I was little really. "Want
in one hand, shit in the other. See which one gets filled faster!" mom
always used to say that. I was a kid and I took it in. Talk about some
serious re-programming that has to take place.
It seemed to be true, with bankrupcy and all, maybe it was wrong
though? It's funny I find myself writing about this now though. . .
Bella and I were walking the other day and she saw an animal, think it
was a squirrel and she thought he had some nuts, but he actually took
a poop! I said right then, want nuts in one hand, shit in the other
and see which one gets filled faster! Lol. I love that she's still
young enough to think like that. Possibility thinking a friend from
Boulder calls it. Possibility thinking. . . My ultimate dream while
I'm here is not to play or think small. Honestly, it feels like a
pathetic dream. . . that's how things go down hill though. Once I
start putting labels on them they become pathetic, boring, stupid,
dumb, etc. If I leave them labelless they aren't pathetic or dumb or
boring. They just are.
Who knew if I didn't label something it could just be, just exist? Wooooow!!
I started thinking of you on Friday May 10 when I was flying home. I
don't know exactly where we were, but we were close to Detroit and I
started to wonder if you'd come in the same place I did, walked on the
tarmac where I walked years and years ago. I wonder if you ate on the
plane like I did. Did you eat snack boxes or just get the free stuff,
the pretzels and peanuts and cookies. Yuck!! I'm sure you brought
Chinese candy and sour snakes from home in San Antonio. I'm sure you
had lemon or lime, those little containers you just dip your finger in
and eat it straight like that. Smile. They always made me make faces,
but I loved them anyway! How about the sour pickles with salt? Or Big
Red!!!! Oh man, soooo good!!
You know, I said I didn't know where this was going a while back. I'm
listening to my rock and there's something I feel like being honest
with you about. . .
I can bearly listen to rap anymore. You kind of left it to me because
I'd listen to anything, but listening to it these days is hard for me.
It brings up memories of you and I and the fact that you aren't here
The day you left in 04, Father's Day no less, that hurt. . . but not
as much as the day they called to say you died. September 7 2009.
To think back, to see how that was such an ordinary day and I can see
the demarcation line perfectly. Before Mark died, after Mark died.
Nothing has been the same since then.
Listening to music, drinking (which I've started indulging in
occasionally), eating favorite foods even. Watching old shows we used
to watch together. Everything I do, and some things I try to avoid
doing, because they remind me of you, none of it's the same. Nothing
will ever be the same.
I don't live with all you're things around me, but I do live in what
feels like a warped sense of time. The time before. . . the time when
you did things with me and then the time after. I find myself looking
backwards, connecting dots and wondering why the fuck I didn't connect
them earlier!!! I miss you. . . more than anything in this world. I
would give up every favored show or candy or snack of any kind, in any
form, to have you back. I would give up concerts and just about
everything else to have you back in my life. In my life where I can
see you and touch you and hear your voice. Not this life where I have
to imagine and conjure you up.
And while I'm being honest, I do have one question for you. . . Why
didn't you tell me??? You know I would have done anything for you,
killed for you, died for you!!! So why, when you said I was the only
one who knew what pain was better than you, why didn't you trust me
enough to tell me that one thing?? I never would have turned you away
and I never would have called into question your manhood, because it
wasn't your fault!! You were innocent! You were just a baby! And I've
made this about me. . . I know you trust me, I know you always did. It
still begs the question though, why didn't you come to me? I would
have readily accepted it. I'm not your mother or your stepfather. I
would have accepted it, taken your rage. I would have held it for you.
Now there is nothing to hold and all I can say from here is I miss
you. I wish you would have told me. I loved and still love you
That's all for now, everything's all jumbled and chaotic in my head.
I love you and miss you.
Your Lil' Killah

Wednesday, May 1, 2013