F.i.in.e Moods

- reworked this one a little 'cause my first version was a bit more all over the place 'cause of my anxiety trying to present the experience ...

the first plane travel was incredibly overwhelming, but I did it... I always joke with my douce moitié that he surely doesn't doubt how much I love him after that ;) ... sorry, a bit long and rambly, but it was quite the experience...

Ok, try to picture this, if you will:

Thirty years living with agoraphobia et al.,

But another thing about me:  since toddlerhood,

I somehow became very fearful of man-made

Things (bridges, overpasses, etc);  like I knew

These things could crumble at any time.

So you can probably guess, forget not having

My feet firmly on solid ground, so no way in hell

I'd sit thousands of kilometers up in the air.

But due to circumstances, my douce moitié was not home,

He'd been living in England for months on end in order to

Be able to work, so it would have to be me who travels in

Order for us to be able to see one another.  And so, against

Every odd, I took a plane to England... on my own.

I was sick for a few weeks before the flight.

My nerves completely shot, and I'll spare

You the details of my stomach's antics,

But I really wasn't sure I'd manage it.

I was terrified; the thought horrified.

So, I spent a lot of time talking to myself,

And working really hard to not let these

Problems of mine ruin the best opportunity

Of my life to travel to England; but not

Only that, to be with my love again!

I missed him too much.  But my terror

Was a mighty and formidable opponent,

So, for days it went on, and on the day,

It still wasn't any better, but I pushed on,

Little step by little step.  Since I'd never

Flown in my life, there was the whole

Process to suss out as well, oh what fun. 

But I surprisingly didn't do too bad.  Still,

I sat on the plane; really not feeling good.

For seven hours, it was a ride from hell.

I spent the whole time keeping my nerves

In check so as to not lose my cool, so to speak.

Having a panic attack breakdown is not the time.

I did a lot of breathing exercises, and distraction

Methods all throughout the journey, but

Here again, I was doubtful at times that I'd manage.

But I did.  However, you can probably guess

That I must have looked a sight on my arrival,

And I evidently did, 'cause border control

Retained me, searched my baggage, read my journal(!),

Took my fingerprints and photos, and made me

Wait in a locked room for eight long hours!

Apparently my answers to the agents weren't

Satisfactory.  I haven't the slightest clue what

It is that I said which made them suspect my

visit to their country.  This nearly stretched

Me beyond my capacity to not breakdown,

It was way too nervewracking.  But, they stamped

My passport in the end, and wished me a good time.

My douce moitié was so livid - he nearly got

Himself arrested at the airport! (so not his nature!)

Profusely apologizing for such a rude welcome,

He was so beyond embarrassed, blood boiling,

But to be honest, I was too relieved and

Happy to be in his arms at long last.

We quickly found our center together.

I also told him to not apologize for something

He had nothing to do, you know, as Brits do (wink).

He's just a darling heart that man, I smile thinking of this.

The first plane travel was a truly gruelling experience,

And although I was able to manage all of my symptoms,

It didn't lessen with the subsequent flights I had to take.

It's not as intense when I travel with my douce moitié,

But I don't think I will ever, ever enjoy travelling this way.

- phasing out... 

After a while of nonsense

being spewed out, and

overtaking the waves in the air,

it all starts to sound, to me,

like the adults in Peanuts...

it's no use, i think this is done.

there's really nothing of the fray

that is left to be expressed.

it's all been said a thousand 

times over, if not millions,

so it's really not necessary

to devise more ways to say

the same goddamned things.

'cause where's the interest?

it's no use, i've lost mine

a very long time before now.

it only feels like wastes of time

distracting the ultimate goal

of life's natural pointlessness.

adding mine to the mix?

well, that's more than old...

- vaccines aren't medicine, per se, but still a foreign agent my system will have to acquaint itself with...

I'm not a really sick girl on a daily basis,

but if I do get sick, things can go very bad.

This is because my system is immunodeficient.

All viruses I've ever had have always

developed into acute pulmonary infections

that require heavy doses of meds to clear up.

So, with the current situation we're all living,

I'm an absolute nervous wreck at the

possibility of contracting this new one...

I'm really looking forward to the vaccine

and I'm so happy I have my appointment (May 20th),

but there's something else about my system:

it has the tendency to react to all forms

of medication introduced in my body

with usually the most severe side-effects.

I'm not sure if this vaccine will have 

that kind of effect for me, so I'm a bit

stressed about the aftermath of getting it.

But I'm weighing the potential outcomes:

Bad side-effects that will pass, then protect,

Or turn out to be critical, and harm me.

Or get the virus, which thrives in our lungs...

There's no reasonable expectation

that my system would survive its attack.

As I said, I'm happy I'll be getting the vaccine,

But I'm also anxious about how I'll react.

I'm hoping to all hopes it won't be too bad.

- living with social phobias and agoraphobia ... 

 The isolation is always two-fold:

caused by self,

and with time,

from others drifting away.

- living with social phobias and agoraphobia ...

The crazy thing is

I actually derive a

Sense of security

About going out

With a mask to

Cover my face.

It brings my fears

Down quite a few

Notable notches.

It's kind of nice

To be rid of that

Nervous energy

Coursing through

Me about being out.

I know, it's probably

Not the best response

In the long-run for me,

But in the meantime,

It's unexpectedly working

Out nicely for my nerves,

And I'm going with it.

- had a discussion with a friend about this Capitale-Nationale business, who surprisingly went into the spiel about our French "nation", our pride, our roots, as if there was no political sentiment to what he was telling me, and as if I wasn't French.  I don't care about the political side of things.  Separatist camp or the others.  I was referring to the actual meaning of words... "National" belongs to country, not province, so it's just incorrect to say otherwise? ...

When you enter the city of Québec

There are road signs welcoming

Drivers into the Capitale-Nationale.

When you fill out a form online

And need to select your region

The only choice is Capitale-Nationale.

When you receive mail brochures

Espousing the beauties of my city

The official logo is Capitale-Nationale.

It may not be very Québécois

To say this, but has everyone

Fallen onto their heads, or what?

Québec city is NOT the capitale nationale!

The national capital has always been Ottawa!

So annoying all of this sanctioned nonsense.

When I object, I'm promptly put in my place,

And explained about our French nation,

As if I'm not from the French nation...

Born and raised here; my last name wears an accent aigu;

I started learning English when I was twelve.

Sure, I wouldn't understand about all that.

It's just that, dans les faits, irrefutable ones,

Our capital has never been the national capital.

Last I've ever known, Québec is part of Canada,

And Québec city is just the capital of the PROVINCE.

It gets on my nerves when the untrue's so nonchalantly made

Into every day normal as if it was anything close to truth.

he sat in a pondering moment

coming around to wondering

if the hint couldn't be any clearer

about how it'd be best to stay quiet

perhaps he's reading too much into it

considering his intimate connection

with silence always nagging for words

to dissipate the growing relentlessness

but these ponders are very much like 

a moment of reckoning wanting

its recognition as the fittest clue

that it's well time to trust inklings

the hint is flailing itself for attention:

it's really time he stayed quiet now

- alcohol ruined our relationship...

                      You abandoned me...

                                                                'cause you were ashamed of yourself.

I think my new upstairs neighbors

Might be body-building elephants

Who spend their time dropping

The weights to the floor...

Even when they walk around,

The light fixtures rattle.

I really don't know what they're

Doing up there, but it's noisy

As all hell down here, if not

Outright seizingly loud to make

You jump out of your skin.

If it's not dropped heavy objects,

It's spectacular blow outs with

Their child who must be throwing

Herself around the room in a tantrum,

In screaming fits of anger that resonate.

At first, we were worried for child abuse,

But quickly heard the nature of the screams

Only stem from an angry child blowing up.

Still, a lot of banging, dragging, dropping

And knocking on a constant basis, it's

Becoming nerve-wracking to get startled

So frequently just spending time home.

How do I broach the subject with them?

At least for the dropping of heavy objects.

My fear is to create ill-feelings between us.

It's so far from my intentions, but this is

Becoming problematic, and needs to stop,

Or at the least, be improved considerably.

I really need your advice on this one.

How would you go about it?