ORIGINALLY POSTED ON MY PINK POSSE BLOG ON OR NEAR
Fri, May 14, 2010 at 6:47AM
This starts off random as I'm working on the
morning pages in Julia Cameron's "The Artist's Way" workbook, but I
absolutely needed to share this even though you aren't supposed to,
because after the random stuff came a real doozy of thoughts on fear.
Thanks for reading,
Michelle
So here I am, reporting my first morning to class. I've done
journaling before, but not morning pages where I just write whatever
pops into my head. This should definitely prove to be interesting!
I'm actually thinking: "Ok, what am I thinking?". Lol. This morning I
actually seem to be put together, go figure that one since I didn't
sleep last night! I laid down a little after 1 & "tried" to sleep, but
it didn't work. I rested, but didn't sleep, so I got up an hour & a
half later & said: "Okay, screw it."
Of course, now I'm tired! Lol. I'm also hungry which isn't good since
we don't have milk. Guess that means no cereal for me. I suppose I
could have oatmeal but. . . Do I want it is the question.
I can't wait! I'm going to Holly's today!! Woohoo!! & just think! They
say Fridays are unlucky?? Sure they say if it falls on the 13th, but
seriously! Fridays are good! I'm seeing her today, & next Friday I see
SHAUN!! Just think, SHAUN!!! Woohoo!!! What I wouldn't give to become
part of his FRIDAY NIGHT AFTERPARTY!! But ah, I digress! Lol.
I set my alarm for 6 & then forgot to turn it off, so Sadie lept off
the bed when she heard it! Lol. She knows alarm means food! & that
makes her happy. Normally she doesn't get fed till 12PM & then again
at 6. It's just convenient that way so she's on a schedule & if I
don't wake up at the crack of dawn it won't affect her. She's my
CockerSpaniel for anyone who doesn't know.
Sometimes I can handle this silence, other times I can't. I'm deafly
afraid of public service announcements, have been ever since I was a
child. We aren't talking a little afraid either. We're talking
daymares as I call them. When the TV's off & the Radio's off & it's
completely silent, which it actually isn't since my sister's getting
ready for school, but it's silent enough, it's terrifying for me
sometimes. Public service announcements, just writing the words scares
me. Whether their about drugs, alcohol or car accidents, they all have
the same effect on me. They make me shiver. They chill me to my core &
they frighten the hell out of me! The car crash ones, I can feel the
blood on my own skin. It's sticky & oozzey & makes me feel cold. I can
feel the bones break & imagine someone's shattered skull somehow
connected to mine. As in sticking out of mine, or vice versa. I've
been in an accident, but it must be cel memory that's getting me,
because I don't consciously remember it. I was only 1 or so when it
happened, my mom crashed into a telephone pole. But she was ok & so
was I. I only know that because she told me. But now it frightens me.
As I said, I can feel the blood & the broken bones. I can feel the
pain of it & hear the flatline on the monitor. I can feel the cold of
the dead body & hear the sound of the saw cutting into flesh & bone at
the autopsy. Alternately, the drug psa's, it's like the drug itself
comes alive. I know logically that actual people are warning you away
from drugs, but instead of being people, it's like they turn into the
drug, or the drug turns into them. So the person is the drug & the
drug now has a voice & arms & legs. It can think & move & that means
it can chase me down & "get me" as it were. I've been trying to
understand this for two years now. My old therapist recommended
exposure therapy, but it hasn't helped. I can't even face the TV or,
more commonly these days, the computer screen when they come on. I
have 2 playlists chuck full of them on youtube.com & try to watch them
every couple weeks, but as I said, it doesn't help. In fact, I'm
almost more frightened now then I was when I started the therapy. HIV
commercials are the same. It's all the same. I feel like running &
hiding under my bed! Or running to Daddy & hiding with him. It's
unrealistic, I'm almost 25 years old, but it is what it is, & this is
what it is. I want to change it. I want to be able to see a PSA on
fire or whatever & not feel like it's "watching" me, or going to
"attack me", but all the watching doesn't seem to help, & all the
digging around in my memory for some reason for it isn't helping.
--
"Like the sun we will live to rise,
Like the sun we will live and die!
And then. . . ignite again!"
"Live to Rise"--Christopher Cornell/Soundgarden, from The Avengers Soundtrack
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Grace, (Gracie's) Eulogy
Originally Posted: Monday, March 09, 2009
Written: aprox 6 days after my Doggie Daughter Gracie died.
Current mood:Somber/sad
Category: Writing and Poetry
So it's been 6 days, almost one full week. I still don't know whether
I'm coming or going. My Doggie daughter (Gracie Marie) is gone, and I
still don't know. I can listen to "Finding Beauty in Negative Spaces"
even though I played it while my sister and I washed her off and
brushed out her fur and cut the mats out. I can hear it and usually be
okay while hearing it. I can't decide what to eat though. I can't
decide if I'm hungry or not hungry. Sick or not sick. I can't stand at
the sink brushing my teeth without having someone to talk to and not
remember the way her paws clutched at me in the throws of death. I
can't stand to be alone to long but I can't stand to be around most
people either. I can't stand being in this house without her in it,
but I can't stand leaving this house because she's buried outside and
I don't want to leave her alone. She's not alone since her body is all
that remains and her spirit is at home on the other side, but I still
can't stand to leave her alone. I can't remember anything but I can't
forget her last 40 minutes of life, some of it spent arguing with Dad
over stupid money I couldn't find to take her to the vet that seems so
irrelevant now and was such a waste of time! I was going to get her to
the vet, going to help her but she died before I could. I hear her
panting, feel her heart racing beneath my palm. I remember patting her
and feel her fur and hear her struggling to breathe. She tried to go
potty but couldn't. Dad tried to get her to drink water but she
couldn't. I tried to save her but I couldn't. It was just like that. I
was watching L&O SVU: "Rage" & then my sister is saying:
"We think Grace's dying!" She's crying & I'm asking
"Why? Where is she?"
When I get out there, their all sitting around her on the flor, on the
couches & their crying or alternately acting calm. They aren't even
doing anything! Their just sitting there, so I sit and reach out for
her. My mother nudges her forward and I take hold of her, start
patting her and trying to calm her down. I say
"Call the vet."
They ask for the number and I give it. They call, ask me how old she
is and for once, I hear myself giving the correct answer:
"Thirteen."
Usually I screw up and say she's five. In my mind, Gracie is five, was
always five. She never grew older, never changed. She just didn't,
couldn't, wouldn't. But she did. I was worried about what it would be
like for her to go blind since she was a Cocker Spaniel. Little did I
realize that her heart murmur would take her first.
I feel her spirit pushing me forward, hear that long breath. The one
that seemed to take almost a full minute, and then there was no more
panting. I thought that was it, but she kept fighting. She kept taking
small breaths, inhale stop. Exhale stop. Inhale stop. Exhale stop. She
should have died at 4:15 but fought like hell for another 20 minutes.
It was 4:35 when she finally gave up. I can feel the couple of times
her head seemed to spin completely around. It jerked and brushed the
side of my face as I held her tight. I can feel her front paws
clutching at me and remember that sound her head made as it moved like
that. I can feel the jerking and hear the breathing. I was doing
things before for the most part, but now I'm home and we went shopping
but couldn't stay gone. It's 2AM and I'm sitting here typing now. I'm
sick and trying to hold in all my tears. It seems like their endless.
I remember wanting to hit Mom because she new Grace was gone but she
said:
"Lisa, c'mon. Maybe it's just the flu and she's really sick and we'll
take her to the vet and she'll be alright! They'll help her!"
Then she started crying. I was stuck with her and Becca & Eddie and
Dad, Bella and Cymmy kept coming into the living room to investigate.
It was like a fucking circus and I just wanted to hit them all! I
wanted to run into my room and lay on the bed with her in my arms and
never let go. I wanted to take her away where I could keep her all to
myself, didn't have to let anyone else see or touch or take care of
her. I wanted it just to be us! Her and I and noone else! I remember
Dad saying we should take her outside. He opened the door and I set
her down on the porch. He walked out and closed the door and I put on
my shoes and coat and was gone out to the porch to. He said she didn't
look well at all and I picked her up and held her. I kept saying
everything would be okay. We went back in and she had had her first
spasm outside. I knew she was leaving but I couldn't let her. I wanted
her to stay with me! I wanted her here but I did finally tell her to
let go. She still kept fighting and I had to say it again. I could
bearly get the words out. It was like my entire throat closed up and I
couldn't breathe let alone speak. Then there was mom calling her
sister and me phoning Holly and the other mother. There was brushing
and petting and holding. I asked Becca if she thought Mom would make
our BLTs we'd been planning for dinner, I just felt like we were
supposed to keep moving. 6 days later, I'm still trying to move. It's
like everything is still in slow motion. I eat because I'm "supposed
to". I talk to slow and swallow to fast and don't chew at all.
Nothing's real but everything's to real and I feel nothing and
everything. I cry and then I'm "fine" but not really. Fine just means
not crying. Crying means not fine. Food is ok or bad. Ok means "good"
and bad means "not tasting, not feeling textures". I'm either
comfortable "not cold" or uncomfortable "freezing from the inside
out." Music doesn't even help any more. I sing and I talk to people
and I type (some) and I check my youtube account, but I don't really
do anything. I'm watching myself do everything. My brain is overloaded
with images of Grace. Like a friend said,
"You want to focus not on the bad memories that make you cry, but on
the good memories that make you cry."
She's right, everything makes me cry. Seeing Duke and Snowball and
Tigger and KittyKitty and Belle and Carmel makes me cry. If I'm not
near them, that makes me cry to.
I keep thinking I should have made it to the vet, should have saved
her. She lived a good life but I still should have helped. I can feel
her body in my arms, she was warm because I kept her that way. I held
her almost every second that we weren't brushing her. If I wasn't
holding her I was lying curled up around her. No reason to protect her
in death but that's what I was doing. My arms don't ache anymore ,
neither to my legs from standing with her so long. Now the only things
that ache are my heart and soul, both things that are intangible. I
can hear my sister saying ew and cringing when I moved her body and
blood came out of her mouth and nose. I can see her lying on the floor
and hear her boyfriend telling her to get up and hear her saying that
she doesn't want to. It should have been me on the floor but it
couldn't be me because I had to take care of Gracie. She needed me and
I couldn't fumble the ball, I had to help her, but I did fumble the
ball because she isn't here. All I have left of my baby daughter is a
collar! A collar and to many memories that I can't live with or
without! A collar that smells like her and animals all around me who
belong to others, to remind me that I'm not owned anymore, that I
don't belong to a pet anymore. Animals that simultaneously comfort and
discomfort me. Animals that simultaneously love me and torment me just
by their existence.
It was suggested that maybe if I could figure out why Grace was put
here I could figure out why I was here. In other words, why I was
supposed to go on without her. I think she was here to teach me
independence. I remember my parents saying that I could take her for
walks. There was my incentive to gain more independence and stop being
such a chicken shit! My words not theirs. But I didn't take her for
walks, I didn't hold her as much as I should have or play with her as
much as I should have or value her as much as I should have or even
realize just how much I loved her! I didn't brush her as much as I
should have or cut out the mats from her fur as much as I should have,
and although none of those things would have stopped her from dying
when it was her time they still plague me. Their glaring inadequacies
on my part and now I have no way to remedy them because she's gone.
She loves me unconditionally still, I feel her here, but I don't love
me unconditionally and now everything I should have done or didn't do
haunts me. I shouldn't have let her drink out of the toilet even
though Dad thought it was a great idea. I shouldn't have spanked her
so hard that she cried out the day she bit Bella's ear and I shouldn't
have tossed her away from me the day she bit me after I spanked her
for biting Becca. All these things I shouldn't have done and even
though I apologized for them and she forgave me I can't forgive me now
that she's gone and I feel like I have to apologize for them over and
over again. I feel like I have to make her understand just how sorry I
really am and that I didn't mean to treat her the way she was treated
before she came to me. She was abused before, we got her from the
animal shelter and I never meant to do that to her again. I wanted to
make her life better and pamper and protect her and keep her in the
lap of luxury like she deserved. I feel her pushing me to move on but
I don't want to. I want to go outside and lay on her grave forever, to
just freeze to death and feel nothing. I want to crawl out of my skin
and run and run and run until this is all over and I can't feel or
remember any of it anymore. I want to forget everything and remember
everything and keep busy and not move at all. I want to go back to
Friday and apologize for sitting on her paws accidentally when I went
to check the answering machine and she was laying in her usual spot at
the end of the couch. I want to hold her all day long and give her the
bath I was supposed to give her and let her know how much I love her!
I want her back!!
Please stay my Gracie, my baby, please stay!!!
---
Gracie Marie Medina
Best Doggie Daughter of them all!
Original birthdate unnone.
First birthday with us 4/11/02.
Died Friday 1/23/09 4:35PM.
Mommy misses you baby!
9:04 AM
Written: aprox 6 days after my Doggie Daughter Gracie died.
Current mood:Somber/sad
Category: Writing and Poetry
So it's been 6 days, almost one full week. I still don't know whether
I'm coming or going. My Doggie daughter (Gracie Marie) is gone, and I
still don't know. I can listen to "Finding Beauty in Negative Spaces"
even though I played it while my sister and I washed her off and
brushed out her fur and cut the mats out. I can hear it and usually be
okay while hearing it. I can't decide what to eat though. I can't
decide if I'm hungry or not hungry. Sick or not sick. I can't stand at
the sink brushing my teeth without having someone to talk to and not
remember the way her paws clutched at me in the throws of death. I
can't stand to be alone to long but I can't stand to be around most
people either. I can't stand being in this house without her in it,
but I can't stand leaving this house because she's buried outside and
I don't want to leave her alone. She's not alone since her body is all
that remains and her spirit is at home on the other side, but I still
can't stand to leave her alone. I can't remember anything but I can't
forget her last 40 minutes of life, some of it spent arguing with Dad
over stupid money I couldn't find to take her to the vet that seems so
irrelevant now and was such a waste of time! I was going to get her to
the vet, going to help her but she died before I could. I hear her
panting, feel her heart racing beneath my palm. I remember patting her
and feel her fur and hear her struggling to breathe. She tried to go
potty but couldn't. Dad tried to get her to drink water but she
couldn't. I tried to save her but I couldn't. It was just like that. I
was watching L&O SVU: "Rage" & then my sister is saying:
"We think Grace's dying!" She's crying & I'm asking
"Why? Where is she?"
When I get out there, their all sitting around her on the flor, on the
couches & their crying or alternately acting calm. They aren't even
doing anything! Their just sitting there, so I sit and reach out for
her. My mother nudges her forward and I take hold of her, start
patting her and trying to calm her down. I say
"Call the vet."
They ask for the number and I give it. They call, ask me how old she
is and for once, I hear myself giving the correct answer:
"Thirteen."
Usually I screw up and say she's five. In my mind, Gracie is five, was
always five. She never grew older, never changed. She just didn't,
couldn't, wouldn't. But she did. I was worried about what it would be
like for her to go blind since she was a Cocker Spaniel. Little did I
realize that her heart murmur would take her first.
I feel her spirit pushing me forward, hear that long breath. The one
that seemed to take almost a full minute, and then there was no more
panting. I thought that was it, but she kept fighting. She kept taking
small breaths, inhale stop. Exhale stop. Inhale stop. Exhale stop. She
should have died at 4:15 but fought like hell for another 20 minutes.
It was 4:35 when she finally gave up. I can feel the couple of times
her head seemed to spin completely around. It jerked and brushed the
side of my face as I held her tight. I can feel her front paws
clutching at me and remember that sound her head made as it moved like
that. I can feel the jerking and hear the breathing. I was doing
things before for the most part, but now I'm home and we went shopping
but couldn't stay gone. It's 2AM and I'm sitting here typing now. I'm
sick and trying to hold in all my tears. It seems like their endless.
I remember wanting to hit Mom because she new Grace was gone but she
said:
"Lisa, c'mon. Maybe it's just the flu and she's really sick and we'll
take her to the vet and she'll be alright! They'll help her!"
Then she started crying. I was stuck with her and Becca & Eddie and
Dad, Bella and Cymmy kept coming into the living room to investigate.
It was like a fucking circus and I just wanted to hit them all! I
wanted to run into my room and lay on the bed with her in my arms and
never let go. I wanted to take her away where I could keep her all to
myself, didn't have to let anyone else see or touch or take care of
her. I wanted it just to be us! Her and I and noone else! I remember
Dad saying we should take her outside. He opened the door and I set
her down on the porch. He walked out and closed the door and I put on
my shoes and coat and was gone out to the porch to. He said she didn't
look well at all and I picked her up and held her. I kept saying
everything would be okay. We went back in and she had had her first
spasm outside. I knew she was leaving but I couldn't let her. I wanted
her to stay with me! I wanted her here but I did finally tell her to
let go. She still kept fighting and I had to say it again. I could
bearly get the words out. It was like my entire throat closed up and I
couldn't breathe let alone speak. Then there was mom calling her
sister and me phoning Holly and the other mother. There was brushing
and petting and holding. I asked Becca if she thought Mom would make
our BLTs we'd been planning for dinner, I just felt like we were
supposed to keep moving. 6 days later, I'm still trying to move. It's
like everything is still in slow motion. I eat because I'm "supposed
to". I talk to slow and swallow to fast and don't chew at all.
Nothing's real but everything's to real and I feel nothing and
everything. I cry and then I'm "fine" but not really. Fine just means
not crying. Crying means not fine. Food is ok or bad. Ok means "good"
and bad means "not tasting, not feeling textures". I'm either
comfortable "not cold" or uncomfortable "freezing from the inside
out." Music doesn't even help any more. I sing and I talk to people
and I type (some) and I check my youtube account, but I don't really
do anything. I'm watching myself do everything. My brain is overloaded
with images of Grace. Like a friend said,
"You want to focus not on the bad memories that make you cry, but on
the good memories that make you cry."
She's right, everything makes me cry. Seeing Duke and Snowball and
Tigger and KittyKitty and Belle and Carmel makes me cry. If I'm not
near them, that makes me cry to.
I keep thinking I should have made it to the vet, should have saved
her. She lived a good life but I still should have helped. I can feel
her body in my arms, she was warm because I kept her that way. I held
her almost every second that we weren't brushing her. If I wasn't
holding her I was lying curled up around her. No reason to protect her
in death but that's what I was doing. My arms don't ache anymore ,
neither to my legs from standing with her so long. Now the only things
that ache are my heart and soul, both things that are intangible. I
can hear my sister saying ew and cringing when I moved her body and
blood came out of her mouth and nose. I can see her lying on the floor
and hear her boyfriend telling her to get up and hear her saying that
she doesn't want to. It should have been me on the floor but it
couldn't be me because I had to take care of Gracie. She needed me and
I couldn't fumble the ball, I had to help her, but I did fumble the
ball because she isn't here. All I have left of my baby daughter is a
collar! A collar and to many memories that I can't live with or
without! A collar that smells like her and animals all around me who
belong to others, to remind me that I'm not owned anymore, that I
don't belong to a pet anymore. Animals that simultaneously comfort and
discomfort me. Animals that simultaneously love me and torment me just
by their existence.
It was suggested that maybe if I could figure out why Grace was put
here I could figure out why I was here. In other words, why I was
supposed to go on without her. I think she was here to teach me
independence. I remember my parents saying that I could take her for
walks. There was my incentive to gain more independence and stop being
such a chicken shit! My words not theirs. But I didn't take her for
walks, I didn't hold her as much as I should have or play with her as
much as I should have or value her as much as I should have or even
realize just how much I loved her! I didn't brush her as much as I
should have or cut out the mats from her fur as much as I should have,
and although none of those things would have stopped her from dying
when it was her time they still plague me. Their glaring inadequacies
on my part and now I have no way to remedy them because she's gone.
She loves me unconditionally still, I feel her here, but I don't love
me unconditionally and now everything I should have done or didn't do
haunts me. I shouldn't have let her drink out of the toilet even
though Dad thought it was a great idea. I shouldn't have spanked her
so hard that she cried out the day she bit Bella's ear and I shouldn't
have tossed her away from me the day she bit me after I spanked her
for biting Becca. All these things I shouldn't have done and even
though I apologized for them and she forgave me I can't forgive me now
that she's gone and I feel like I have to apologize for them over and
over again. I feel like I have to make her understand just how sorry I
really am and that I didn't mean to treat her the way she was treated
before she came to me. She was abused before, we got her from the
animal shelter and I never meant to do that to her again. I wanted to
make her life better and pamper and protect her and keep her in the
lap of luxury like she deserved. I feel her pushing me to move on but
I don't want to. I want to go outside and lay on her grave forever, to
just freeze to death and feel nothing. I want to crawl out of my skin
and run and run and run until this is all over and I can't feel or
remember any of it anymore. I want to forget everything and remember
everything and keep busy and not move at all. I want to go back to
Friday and apologize for sitting on her paws accidentally when I went
to check the answering machine and she was laying in her usual spot at
the end of the couch. I want to hold her all day long and give her the
bath I was supposed to give her and let her know how much I love her!
I want her back!!
Please stay my Gracie, my baby, please stay!!!
---
Gracie Marie Medina
Best Doggie Daughter of them all!
Original birthdate unnone.
First birthday with us 4/11/02.
Died Friday 1/23/09 4:35PM.
Mommy misses you baby!
9:04 AM
Happy Mother's Day
ORIGINALLY POSTED ON MY PINK POSSE BLOG ON OR NEAR
Fri, May 7, 2010 at 10:10 PM
Dear Mama,
So Mother's day is coming up Sunday. I just read a blog called Lessons
my Mother Taught Me. Well, I have a few you taught me.
You taught me: Never to tell you what I thought, because you already
new what I thought!
You taught me: That I'd never be good enough for you.
I still remember getting that report card in high school. All A's & I
was so excited!!!! So excited!!! I rushed to the office to have the
damn thing lamenated I was sooooo proud! I spent all day in class
after class dying to get home! I fidgeted my way through my bus ride &
when I got home, I rushed into the livingroom! It was spring, soft &
sumptuous outside, the birds singing, the sun shining & my body was
humming along to the vibrations of it! I didn't even take off my
shoes! I just ran to the livingroom & dropped to my knees in front of
you. You were on the green chair & I handed you the card.
You said: "Well, you've gotten all A's before."
I tried so hard not to cry in front of you! I tried so hard to be
strong, but I couldn't! Forget telling Daddy when he got home, forget
calling Grandma, I just wanted to die! & you did that to me! YOU made
me feel that way. I made you cry, but I don't think it was sincere on
your part. I still can't write or tell that story without bawling!
You taught me: That I was to blame for your divorce. "Well, you're
right! I'll never be good enough for you your sister or your father!"
You taught me: That I hated you even though I always tried to be as
much of a Mama's girl as I was a Daddy's girl.
You taught me: That I didn't know how I felt only you did, & you were
damn well going to tell me how I felt!
You taught me: Not to cry about being held down & having a mask put
over my face, because if I didn't tell you right after it happened
(when I was 9), it most certainly didn't matter 10 or 11 years later!
You taught me: Never to put out one of your cigarettes because you'd
fly into a rage & squeal tire out of a parking lot like a bad out of
hell.
You taught me: Never to inconvenience you.
& most importantly, you taught me: Never, ever, under any
circumstances to trust the opposite sex. You were raped at age 6 & so,
you said that you told me so I wouldn't be afraid to come to you, but
it had the opposite effect.
I love you, Mama, Happy Mother's day!
Fri, May 7, 2010 at 10:10 PM
Dear Mama,
So Mother's day is coming up Sunday. I just read a blog called Lessons
my Mother Taught Me. Well, I have a few you taught me.
You taught me: Never to tell you what I thought, because you already
new what I thought!
You taught me: That I'd never be good enough for you.
I still remember getting that report card in high school. All A's & I
was so excited!!!! So excited!!! I rushed to the office to have the
damn thing lamenated I was sooooo proud! I spent all day in class
after class dying to get home! I fidgeted my way through my bus ride &
when I got home, I rushed into the livingroom! It was spring, soft &
sumptuous outside, the birds singing, the sun shining & my body was
humming along to the vibrations of it! I didn't even take off my
shoes! I just ran to the livingroom & dropped to my knees in front of
you. You were on the green chair & I handed you the card.
You said: "Well, you've gotten all A's before."
I tried so hard not to cry in front of you! I tried so hard to be
strong, but I couldn't! Forget telling Daddy when he got home, forget
calling Grandma, I just wanted to die! & you did that to me! YOU made
me feel that way. I made you cry, but I don't think it was sincere on
your part. I still can't write or tell that story without bawling!
You taught me: That I was to blame for your divorce. "Well, you're
right! I'll never be good enough for you your sister or your father!"
You taught me: That I hated you even though I always tried to be as
much of a Mama's girl as I was a Daddy's girl.
You taught me: That I didn't know how I felt only you did, & you were
damn well going to tell me how I felt!
You taught me: Not to cry about being held down & having a mask put
over my face, because if I didn't tell you right after it happened
(when I was 9), it most certainly didn't matter 10 or 11 years later!
You taught me: Never to put out one of your cigarettes because you'd
fly into a rage & squeal tire out of a parking lot like a bad out of
hell.
You taught me: Never to inconvenience you.
& most importantly, you taught me: Never, ever, under any
circumstances to trust the opposite sex. You were raped at age 6 & so,
you said that you told me so I wouldn't be afraid to come to you, but
it had the opposite effect.
I love you, Mama, Happy Mother's day!
Nirvana "Curmudgeon"
ORIGINALLY POSTED ON MY PINK POSSE BLOG ON OR AROUND
Sat, Apr 10, 2010 at 2:50 AM
"Curmudgeon"
I can't hide, no
On the mantle
I'm not sad
Tilling that hoe
It's the season
I'm all reason
I have seen
All I have grown
Sheared at the seams
Cheat on me
And not seen
At the seams
I'm a lender
I'm a planter
I put something
In the garden
In the handle
On the mantle
I'm not Santa
I'm a god
I want a lady
Can you save me?
It's the sulfur
I have grown
'Tis the season
I'm all reason
I have fleas
So run on home
"Curmudgeon" KURT COBAIN
Sat, Apr 10, 2010 at 2:50 AM
"Curmudgeon"
I can't hide, no
On the mantle
I'm not sad
Tilling that hoe
It's the season
I'm all reason
I have seen
All I have grown
Sheared at the seams
Cheat on me
And not seen
At the seams
I'm a lender
I'm a planter
I put something
In the garden
In the handle
On the mantle
I'm not Santa
I'm a god
I want a lady
Can you save me?
It's the sulfur
I have grown
'Tis the season
I'm all reason
I have fleas
So run on home
"Curmudgeon" KURT COBAIN
NIRVANA "ENDLESS NAMELESS" In Celebration of KURT!
ORIGINALLY POSTED AT MY PINK POSSE BLOG ON OR AROUND
Sat, Apr 10, 2010 at 2:02 AM
Dear Kurdt:
Today & the days before it, April 5th until your memorial day are days
to reflect & celebrate your life & lyrics. In honor of that, a lesser
known but rather spectacular song!
We love you!
Silence
Here I am
Here I am
Silent
Bright and clear
It's what I am
I have
Died
Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother
Death
With violence
Excitement
Right here
Died
Go to hell
Here I am
Right here
Ow!
No mas, no mas, no mas, no mas
Death
Is what I am
Go to hell
Go to jail
In back of that
Crime
Here I am
Take a chance
Dead!
Die!
"Endless, Nameless" KURT COBAIN
Sat, Apr 10, 2010 at 2:02 AM
Dear Kurdt:
Today & the days before it, April 5th until your memorial day are days
to reflect & celebrate your life & lyrics. In honor of that, a lesser
known but rather spectacular song!
We love you!
Silence
Here I am
Here I am
Silent
Bright and clear
It's what I am
I have
Died
Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother
Death
With violence
Excitement
Right here
Died
Go to hell
Here I am
Right here
Ow!
No mas, no mas, no mas, no mas
Death
Is what I am
Go to hell
Go to jail
In back of that
Crime
Here I am
Take a chance
Dead!
Die!
"Endless, Nameless" KURT COBAIN
Personal Beliefs Under Attack
ORIGINALLY POSTED AT MY PINK POSSE BLOG ON OR AROUND
Sat, Apr 10, 2010 at 1:28 AM
So I haven't been here in forever. I could & will most likely give an
update, but not at the moment.
I have many things to say that I haven't said in the past week or so.
I have my beliefs & others can have there's. That's all well & good &
I encourage them to have said views, but to criticize me for mine is
hypocritical when they claim to be my friends & family & care about
me.
That's why I'm a Gnostic Christian, yes I wrote it a Gnostic Christian
who believes in a MOTHER & Father God, ghosts, psychics (speciffic
ones), aliens, reincarnation etc. This is my life & I will do with it
what I choose, not what someone else chooses for me. As Doris
Schlesinger once said: "Think wrongly if you will, but think for
yourself". Well, that's what I'm doing & if I'm wrong, God will let me
know. So called Christians are always going around attacking gays &
lesbians, people with Aids, people who are black or Hispanic or Asian
or of different nationalities/creeds/religions. I'm not "that type of
Christian" & never will be. If you want to believe in Buddah or Allah
or animals or nature, your welcome to it & I won't disown you as a
friend or family member.
Now, I'm not saying we all have to agree, in fact, that's completely
what I'm against. All of us believe differently & that's what makes
ours a diverse peoples. We dress differently, talk differently &
believe differently, but there's almost always a common ground we can
meet on whether it's liking the same movies or music or art. I'm all
for it!
But there's a difference in having different beliefs & being attacked
for said beliefs. Attacks are wrong, friendly disagreements or open
conversations (asking questions about why I believe the way I do
verses why you believe the way you do), that's good stuff. But
attacking someone is completely different & I refuse to be attacked &
keep completely mum on the subject.
Secondly, I've been criticized for my musical taste. Rock music is
not, in my opinion dumb or stupid or horrible. Again, people are
welcome to their opinions, but saying: "So, are you still listening to
that dumb music?" is bull & out of line. That's just asking for some
verbal sparring, & at this point, I'm ready for it. I've kept my
temper in check, laughed & joked along while secretly dreaming of
punching someone in the mouth & ending up with a handful of bloody
teeth as my reward. I'm not vicious, but I can be when provoked.
I've said it before & I'll say it again, rock music has saved my life.
Yeah, you read it right, I didn't stutter. I haven't saved me, rock
music has saved me. I eat, sleep & breathe it. It's my oxygen, my
nutrition, it's in my blood & I have no regrets about that! So, "Suck
My Kiss"!
Anyway, now that that's out of my system. . .
I hope the few friends I have around here are doing good & wish anyone
who reads this my best.
Ttys,
Chelle
--
Goren & Eames no more??? (cry)!!!
Sat, Apr 10, 2010 at 1:28 AM
So I haven't been here in forever. I could & will most likely give an
update, but not at the moment.
I have many things to say that I haven't said in the past week or so.
I have my beliefs & others can have there's. That's all well & good &
I encourage them to have said views, but to criticize me for mine is
hypocritical when they claim to be my friends & family & care about
me.
That's why I'm a Gnostic Christian, yes I wrote it a Gnostic Christian
who believes in a MOTHER & Father God, ghosts, psychics (speciffic
ones), aliens, reincarnation etc. This is my life & I will do with it
what I choose, not what someone else chooses for me. As Doris
Schlesinger once said: "Think wrongly if you will, but think for
yourself". Well, that's what I'm doing & if I'm wrong, God will let me
know. So called Christians are always going around attacking gays &
lesbians, people with Aids, people who are black or Hispanic or Asian
or of different nationalities/creeds/religions. I'm not "that type of
Christian" & never will be. If you want to believe in Buddah or Allah
or animals or nature, your welcome to it & I won't disown you as a
friend or family member.
Now, I'm not saying we all have to agree, in fact, that's completely
what I'm against. All of us believe differently & that's what makes
ours a diverse peoples. We dress differently, talk differently &
believe differently, but there's almost always a common ground we can
meet on whether it's liking the same movies or music or art. I'm all
for it!
But there's a difference in having different beliefs & being attacked
for said beliefs. Attacks are wrong, friendly disagreements or open
conversations (asking questions about why I believe the way I do
verses why you believe the way you do), that's good stuff. But
attacking someone is completely different & I refuse to be attacked &
keep completely mum on the subject.
Secondly, I've been criticized for my musical taste. Rock music is
not, in my opinion dumb or stupid or horrible. Again, people are
welcome to their opinions, but saying: "So, are you still listening to
that dumb music?" is bull & out of line. That's just asking for some
verbal sparring, & at this point, I'm ready for it. I've kept my
temper in check, laughed & joked along while secretly dreaming of
punching someone in the mouth & ending up with a handful of bloody
teeth as my reward. I'm not vicious, but I can be when provoked.
I've said it before & I'll say it again, rock music has saved my life.
Yeah, you read it right, I didn't stutter. I haven't saved me, rock
music has saved me. I eat, sleep & breathe it. It's my oxygen, my
nutrition, it's in my blood & I have no regrets about that! So, "Suck
My Kiss"!
Anyway, now that that's out of my system. . .
I hope the few friends I have around here are doing good & wish anyone
who reads this my best.
Ttys,
Chelle
--
Goren & Eames no more??? (cry)!!!
Thursday, June 14, 2012
SHOCK!
I've been sharing my story with a few more people here and there lately.
The Tessier Cleft portion of my story. I know I have to clarify since there's much more to me then just one thing! Lol.
Anyway, a friend of mine was telling me that her sister had looked up some more info on Tessier Clefts and that my stats may need an update to 57 people born in this country with clefts. If that's the case I'm not sure what world stats would look like.
I started doing some research of my own tonight and came across something that is more than a little disturbing to me.
Ovbiously I was too young to remember what happened to me/how I came into the world etc.
Even my doc said: "You were born with a bilateral craniofacial cleft." but he didn't name it "Tessier". I discovered that on my own. This means that though there are 14 classifications for Tessiers, I don't know what number mine falls under. I know it is a severe one, but I do not know it's number.
Anyway, I was reading about Tessier Cleft classifications 3 and 4, two of the rarest of the rare where Tessiers are concerned.
The article is titled:
Formatting the surgical management of Tessier cleft types 3 and 4
Link:
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2825067/
In it, the writers state that if the inferior globe of the eye is not being protected the cornea must be covered in order to help prevent blindness. If not, the eye can sink and this will lead to blindness.
I realize this is all just reading and me casting about in the unknown, but because I was born in 86 and spent 4 and a half days with nurses and doctors, it got me wondering if I did in fact have eyes, the eyes were unnoticed and because the inferior globe of my eyes was not protected if they sank into my head and that's what caused me to go blind.
I've always written that I was born without eyes because that's what I was told, but reading this, that they could have sank into the sockets leads me to wonder if that is in fact what happened and if what I've been told up until now has been inaccurate.
I must confess it's extremely upsetting for me, but I would like to know if this scenario is even possible or plausible.
I suppose my next step is to get back in touch with my mother because Dad says she has the book where the nurses wrote about me while I was under their care. I would love to get in touch with a craniofacial surgeon to see if this is plausible.
Considering how sick I feel at the moment I'm wondering if this won't be more trouble than it's worth, but I do want to know.
Love all,
Goodnight.
The Tessier Cleft portion of my story. I know I have to clarify since there's much more to me then just one thing! Lol.
Anyway, a friend of mine was telling me that her sister had looked up some more info on Tessier Clefts and that my stats may need an update to 57 people born in this country with clefts. If that's the case I'm not sure what world stats would look like.
I started doing some research of my own tonight and came across something that is more than a little disturbing to me.
Ovbiously I was too young to remember what happened to me/how I came into the world etc.
Even my doc said: "You were born with a bilateral craniofacial cleft." but he didn't name it "Tessier". I discovered that on my own. This means that though there are 14 classifications for Tessiers, I don't know what number mine falls under. I know it is a severe one, but I do not know it's number.
Anyway, I was reading about Tessier Cleft classifications 3 and 4, two of the rarest of the rare where Tessiers are concerned.
The article is titled:
Formatting the surgical management of Tessier cleft types 3 and 4
Link:
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2825067/
In it, the writers state that if the inferior globe of the eye is not being protected the cornea must be covered in order to help prevent blindness. If not, the eye can sink and this will lead to blindness.
I realize this is all just reading and me casting about in the unknown, but because I was born in 86 and spent 4 and a half days with nurses and doctors, it got me wondering if I did in fact have eyes, the eyes were unnoticed and because the inferior globe of my eyes was not protected if they sank into my head and that's what caused me to go blind.
I've always written that I was born without eyes because that's what I was told, but reading this, that they could have sank into the sockets leads me to wonder if that is in fact what happened and if what I've been told up until now has been inaccurate.
I must confess it's extremely upsetting for me, but I would like to know if this scenario is even possible or plausible.
I suppose my next step is to get back in touch with my mother because Dad says she has the book where the nurses wrote about me while I was under their care. I would love to get in touch with a craniofacial surgeon to see if this is plausible.
Considering how sick I feel at the moment I'm wondering if this won't be more trouble than it's worth, but I do want to know.
Love all,
Goodnight.
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