F.i.in.e Moods

I do realize that I'm using up

A lot of your time, and no doubt

Often using up your emotional

Resources, and I'm not happy

To be doing that to you...

I do realize that my problems

Can be a bit much, at times,

And it certainly shouldn't be

Anything that you feel you need

To fix 'cause that's not reasonable...

So I think it's time for me to

Withdraw, and restore your peace.

- welfare check for suicidal thoughts by the police... not what was going on, but they had to check it out anyway because someone was concerned... but...

it was unnervingly unsettling... they looked like that, they didn't identify themselves, they were brusque, and didn't really involve me in the intervention about my well-being... it felt pretty surreal and very far from reassuring or calming... 

the uniform that the Québec police wear

makes them look like they're ready for combat

all kitted up with tactical gear, for some reason

all the way to camo pants and firearm...

it's hard to believe that they send officers

looking like that for a welfare check 

and don't realize how that might affect

someone who they believe is vulnerable... 

how's that in line with the best interests

of anyone who may be in a crisis? 

All those talks we had,

How I was trying hard to

Figure out what's going

On with those episodes,

And you being comforting,

giving me support, always

How I wish you were still

Here so I could tell you what

I figured out finally, and

The help I found to make

It stop, it'd have been so

Great for you to know that

After all this time of worry

How I wish I could have

Made it go away finally

I know you'd have been

Happy to hear the good news

You've been around for so much

This would have been the best

How I wish I could have let you know

I think death is a very personal experience
And the process is influenced by our beliefs

For some, they encounter bright lights and
Loved-ones greeting and guiding them onward

For others, no such things present themselves
In fact, there's nothing that presents itself at all

For my part, I simply can't believe in life after death
As my experiences of death were the same each time

A last memory of everything going black
And nothing further beyond that point

It's these experiences that lead me to think

Life after death isn't a plausible reality

But that's just me

- although I've been through many therapies in my life, I've only found out recently that I've been experiencing symptoms of trauma and what those symptoms are called... here I was all these years thinking I was going crazy...

the medical cannabis was prescribed to help manage the chronic pain of hEDS seeing as medications always cause me severe side-effects... however, turns out it's also effective for trauma symptoms such as somatic memories...

Google Definition : Somatic memories, often termed "body memories," are lingering, non-cognitive physical sensations of discomfort, pain, or tension stored in the body's nervous system and tissues rather than consciously recalled by the mind. Frequently linked to past trauma or severe stress, these implicit memories can trigger physical reactions like muscle tension, digestive issues, or flashbacks. 

I also learned that self-harm is a common trauma response... I began doing that when I was around 9 or 10 years old... it was my way to have some sort of control over all the distress I was going through... it provided me solace, calm, and control... it was the best feeling I'd experienced... 

I did that into my adulthood... although in my adulthood, it was more sporadic and episodical... I did come to stop completely for a number of years... so when all of this started back in June, it felt to me like it came out of nowhere...  it's absolutely thrown me off... but I think it may finally be over now...

to me, it feels like the end of a nightmare...

Here's what's been happening since June :

Because of hEDS' effects on my body,

I fell into a state of deep exhaustion

That exhaustion couldn't hold back

The resurfacing of somatic memories

Those somatic memories recalled old

Wounds my body experienced once

Made those old wounds intensely throb

As though they were currently happening

Those strong sensations made my mind

Embark on a campaign to recreate them

And although I could rationalize this course

Of action wasn't in any of my best interests

I came to a point in my resistance where I

Simply faltered, folded, and went ahead

And when I did, it quickly became dangerous

'Cause there could never be enough blood, so...

There were no suicidal intentions

Just an obsession to see and feel it again

It's the scariest place to be with yourself

Losing the control to help yourself in any way

Seeing that you're killing yourself and

Not being able to stop what you're doing

Even though you clearly know it's crazy...

That's what was going on since June

But it feels over now, ever since I started

Taking medical cannabis this last week

Turns out the oil is also effective at cutting

Out the somatic memories' sensations

So that throbbing that makes me

Lose it is not felt at all, it's gone

Consequently, so is the fight against

Unhinged urges - I'm profoundly relieved

Truly feels like the end of a nightmare

She gets around to thinking

It'd be nice to be cut some slack

Considering everything

It's a miracle she's not more whack!

She's kind and thoughtful

To others, 'cause it's inconceivable

For her not to be mindful;

Knowing too well it's unlivable

Yet she gets crucified

Any time she makes a small mistake

Leaving her only stupefied

And completely unaware of which step to take

She gets around to thinking

Something must be missing

She's always forgiven what they do

Apparently it isn't something they can do

Imagine that,

You lacking imagination.

I shouldn't be surprised,

Still, leaves me incredulous.

In my youth,

When I'd expressed the wish

To not do anymore what

I did to get myself money,

You, of course,

Jumped to the conclusion

That it was about prostitution,

Even writing it in my client notes.

Had you bothered

To ask me, I could've cleared

That up for you very easily:

No way did I EVER do that.

What I did involved selling

Something, sure, but it

Certainly never was my body...

You think that's all girls can do?

Come on, now,

Get away from stereotypes.

There's more than one way

To survive on the streets.

As a professional,

Half expected you'd know better.

Also don't appreciate my story

Being rewritten to your assumptions.

Now there are official files

That state I used to sell my body!

Have you any idea how infuriating

This is, to be faced with?

- Are You Saying Some Are More Deserving of Your Help?

It makes me shake my head in disbelief

Whenever I come across those

Social media posts from a person

Who shares the good deed they did

On a certain day about when they met

A homeless person, and helped them,

Out of the blue, on that day,

By getting them food and clothing.

But then they go and ruin it

By specifying that this particular

Homeless person wasn't an alcoholic

Or drug addict, just down on their

Luck through circumstances out

Of their hands, as if that makes

A difference as to whether this

Person should get their help or not... ?

Picking who deserves help

Kind of annuls the spirit of

The good deed, in my view...

You either care or you don't,

Otherwise, it's just for a show

Of "Look how nice I am".

As a helper, it's not your place

To decide how your help is used.

It's certainly not your place

To judge how it's used.

There are realities for which

You have no clue about,

And so the decisions taken

May not concur with your usual.

But how dare you decide what's

Worth your help and what isn't

When you can't even begin

To understand this kind of life.

This idea that addicts on the streets

Made a choice and put themselves

In this position makes it so

That these people are condemned,

And viewed as if they are unworthy

Of help just 'cause they get high.

They did this to themselves is the view.

And so what, if that should be true? 

Despair is despair.

And to view it in such simplistic terms

When it's much more complex than that

Truly disgusts me.  So whenever I come

Across those stupid good deed with

A homeless person posts, I roll my eyes

'Cause they all make it a point to specify

That this homeless person they helped

Truly deserved their help 'cause they

Weren't an alcoholic or drug addict.

I always think to myself, 'What an idiot'.

So very simple-minded and unimpressive.

Maybe my views on these things

Are wholly colored by what

I've been through, but whenever

I spend the time to observe women,

I find it incredibly sad how they

All seem to believe it's important

To look nice for others around them.

Well, the whole makeup regime,

The made-up hair, nails, and fashions

They wear, it looks pretty involved...

Which gives the allure it's important to them.

I don't understand it at all...

There is no part in me which

Seeks any sort of thing like that.

Being pleasing-looking for others

Doesn't strike me as something

That is anywhere important.

Why would I want to be looked

At in this manner, anyway?

Why would anyone?

Do women really need this?

Yet, practically all women do it,

Like it's a natural expectation of them.

It all looks awfully sad, and seems to me

Like there are other things in this life

Which have way more substance

Than how you may look...

You cannot teach

What you don't know...

Did the best I could

With what I had...

What did I know

About being a parent?

I only ever saw

What not to do...

Nothing else of life

Was shown to me.

I did my damn best though...

Don't think it was enough...