F.i.in.e Moods

- RAMQ is our 'free' health system here and it stands for Régie de l'assurance maladie du Québec...

I hate to concede with my friend

On this point, but he's absolutely

Right:  universal health care

Is not so great - at least, it hasn't

Been in the last near decade now.

We're short of doctors 'cause they're

All arriving at the age of retirement,

And there aren't enough around

Now to fill their vacant positions,

So waiting times are out of

Control, services have simply

Become mostly inadequate, and

It's so difficult to have your health

Seen to when it actually needs it.

Pain can't wait, for example.

Took over a year to see my first

Specialist, still waiting a year

And a half on for a genetics test,

And I've been referred to a team

Whose waiting list is two-three years.

The Chronic Pain team, that is!

I can say that it's very discouraging,

'Cause while I wait, I'm on my own

To deal with why I'm being referred

There, and it's not clear what I'm

Meant to be doing in the meantime.

I've been on the waiting list for

A family doctor since Sept 2019,

And it's not looking either like that's

Going to be resolved any time soon.

I don't know where to throw myself

There's an emptiness that follows me

And I can't seem to shake it off

And I feel myself sinking to depths

Which would really be best to avoid

I don't know why I keep pushing on

To figure some way to live this life

And for as much as I try to find joy

And for as much as it's all useless

I'm still here even though I shouldn't be

I carry on with no clear reasons

As to what's important about it

And I restrain myself from listening

And I try to conserve a sort of care

Through so much constant noise

I, this morning, recover the devastation

Of having survived death's realms then

And I try to reason with myself

And I try so hard to feel different

But I only manage to fail spectacularly

- recently took up my guitar again, an old acoustic Vantage... luckily, I'm ambidextrous, so the left-handed way isn't a huge challenge, except for one chord positioning so far (picture above) ... singing and playing songs myself are my goals... it's way overdue... 

Two reasons why I choose

To play my right-handed guitar

The left-handed way, with

The strings 'upside down' :

1 - my left wrist has a sizable cyst between my ligaments making my hand too

     weak and too painful to apply the pressure to make the chords

2 - I don't like the idea of being limited to an adapted guitar to be able to play it

Right now, doing the G

Chord is a little challenging

Awkward to switch and press

All three fingers at once

It's a strange positioning

Not all too natural getting

The index across in one go

I can, but not always yet

It's getting there, though

Muscle memory is definitely

Happening as I switch most

Chords relatively well so far

It's just that G

I found two ways to do it

But one is completely 'no'

The other, a little awkard

But much more doable

I'll keep at it, make it work

There's really nothing else

Better than to play music!

- « langue populaire » québécoise... Google Translate ne sera pas utile pour la traduire...

Osti qu'vous êtes plates.

Plus plates qu'ça, tu meurs !

Le lien n'est pas plus difficile

qu'ça: c'est vous l'problème.

Et bien franchement, j'en ai

plein l'cul d'vous endurer.

Vous êtes soit pas trop gentils

ou souvent crissement weird,

et vous n'avez aucune appréciation

pour autre chose qu'vous-mêmes.

Comme j'disais, vous êtes plates,

vous m'donnez l'envie d'sacrer

mon camp et n'p'us jamais revenir ;

à ce point-là qu'j'suis p'us capable.

C'est pas compliqué, vous m'faites

suer tellement vous êtes déplaisants.

Le plus drôle là-dedans est qu'vous

trouvez une façon d'chiâler comme si

l'résultat n'avait rien à voir avec vous.

B'en voyons donc, réveillez-vous, osti.

J'ai plus qu'faite ma part, même trop.

On peut pas en dire autant pour vous.

Facque, allez-y, boudez-moi d'vous étaler

la vérité en pleine face, j'm'en câlisse.

I suppose it's some sort of improvement.

Periods of total immobilisation haven't

Happened in quite a long time now.

But moving causes constant pain in one

Way or another, and the more I move,

The more the pain levels will increase.

I rarely stop myself from moving just

Because I'm feeling pain in my body,

But if I push it too far, I'll have to stop,

Whether I like it or not, 'cause incapacity

Becomes complete and out of my hands.

And that's a huge source of stress lately.

How far can I push it before immobilisation?

I need to keep moving or else it'll make

Things worse, I'm told, but still, it's not great.

Who doesn't want to avoid pain?

Kind of hard to reason with myself that

It's for my own good in the long run.

Good doesn't usually feel so sore.

- self-esteem getting fragilized... 

Oh, but they hurt me so bad, ma.

And all I do is care about them.

Oh, but I'm an idiot, aren't I, ma?

They use me without appreciation,

Aren't fussed about respect either.

Oh, but I've only ever been kind, ma.

I'll always be a nobody in their eyes.

- no worries, I'm fine, I didn't... I suppose I'm trying to analyze it... 

Can't say it's very clear to me

Why I'd draw my own blood

To counter off the moments

Of when it was you who drew

It from me all those years ago.

How does creating pain

To myself, 'cause I'm in pain

From terrifying memories

Taking up the space of now,

Help in any fashion at all?

It's really not clear to me

What all of it is about, but

I'm feeling it could maybe

Be a way to gain control

Over which party's going

To be doing the hurting

In this unwanted moment.

To make it physically visible

Which wounds are throbbing,

And being sure it's not you.

Does that make any sense?

- sorry it's disturbing, something triggered me this morning... doing my best... 

The earliest memory

Is set at preschool age,

But it's very likely

It started much sooner

Even though the frames

Aren't stored for recall.

What's remembered's

A world of immense

Physical pain much worse

Than angry fists on me,

Of intense terror coupled

With total powerlessness.

They were grown men,

Some were family, some

Strangers brought home,

But all had the same

Vicious intentions of

Using my small body.

And they did for years,

Satisfying themselves at

My expense like that's

All a little girl's good for

While I had no choice to

Endure the cruelty 'cause

That's what they wanted.

All beyond words to

Remember, but the one

Thing most unforgettable's

How my tears, my screams

Were the height of pleasure

For them - more the better.

With pins on my belly, or

An assortment of objects,

Or even biting to blood,

There's nothing that

Wasn't done to create,

Extract the most pain.

And that look in their

Eyes, that sadistic smile

On their face, haunt me

Everlastingly to this day...

It makes me shudder

How much satisfaction

There was for these grown

Men about killing a child's

Soul so ruthlessly, so

Willingly and repeatedly...

And today, a simple touch can

Throw me back to those times.

They aren't things you

Can ever get away from.

What's been done's been done,

And the weight to carry it all

Falls on the child so betrayed,

Demolished by their actions.

Wounds like that never heal.

No matter how much talking

You do, there's no way to fix

Such damage for a mind to

Forget or accept, it's just there

Like an unwanted, uninvited

Passenger who'll always stick

By you, like it or not, 'til the end;

It's a punishment that'll last a life...

                                                                                                  May 2022

Dear Diary,

Eight years have passed and still no word...  Wondering why it always falls on me to do the first steps after he's done wrong by me because of his alcoholism.  A previous time had lasted about 10 years until I reached out to him to talk.  Is that how parent-child relationships go on?  Well, he's my step-parent, but to me he was the only father I had.  My biological father, we ran away from when I was eleven, because he was a mentally unstable, violent, alcoholic.  Step-dad wasn't violent, per se, but it wasn't far sometimes because of his drunken states.

He may not like to hear it, but growing up with him was extremely anxiety- and stress-inducing to an extent that had serious consequences on me.  He was ruthless in his verbal attacks when he was in one of those moods.  Between him and my mother, the both of them shot my nerves and my self-confidence to hell.  And quite frankly, the two of them were so caught up in their dramas that it seemed to prevent them from noticing that their daughter wasn't home around all too much at twelve -- all the way up to when she finally left for good before her majority.  They were nowhere to be found.

But I've forgiven him, never gave him much of a hard time on how growing up with him affected me (unlike he constantly did about his own parents).  He had finally quit drinking, so I gave him a chance.  Didn't hold it against him.  I still didn't when he relapsed, which is what led us to the situation from 8 years ago now.  I only expressed concerns about his having started drinking again because he was warned by his doctor when he'd quit that if he continued to drink, it would kill him - his body couldn't take it anymore - seemed important to me as a detail to keep in mind!

I found out that he was drinking again because I was talking with his girlfriend, whom I became close to over the few years they were together.  They were in the process of breaking up, and they were both talking to me about what they were going through.  Of course, I didn't discuss with either of them what each said to me, but the alcohol bit was alarming, I had to say something about that...

But he took that as me taking sides, and ever since, he's not spoken to me.  I feel dropped like I don't matter, really.   Pouring my heart out here, I guess, 'cause he'll certainly not hear it... it's so sore to deeply love people who evidently don't feel that way about you.

There are many parts

That are highly upsetting

About what happened

For you to lash out at me

And drop me as if it was

Justified to respond like this.

The first would have to be

That you're the parent

And you should have a bit

More control over yourself,

Especially in circumstances

When you've screwed up.

The second would be your

Spurious accusation which is

Only a distraction from having

To face your embarrassment

At being found out, and your

Shame you're unable to face.

The third would be that you've

Deflected your attention on me

Making me the bad actor in

This situation you created

When all I did is be there for

Both you and the girlfriend.

The fourth would have to be how

Easy it was for you to go away

From the girl you called daughter

Under such false pretenses you

Don't want to admit to yourself.

For you to put my moral character

Into question, and be satisfied

With such excuses you know

Hold absolutely no water, is so

Disappointing, it's beyond words.

For someone who loves me, you're

So quick to crucify me for nothing.

The fifth, how you're acting like

I did something unacceptable when

I did no such thing, be honest about it.

It's you who went off the deep end,

So of course we would find out.

Yet you didn't hesitate to make me

The bad one in your drama anyway.

And it evidently justified it in your

Head that it's ok to leave me behind.

It's incredible to me how it's always the

Closest and dearest who want to hurt me,

Even though it's never my nature to them.

The final one, how you've hurt me for years,  

And acknowledging it, you struggle with. 

I was there for you, but you made it into

A story of betrayal to satisfy this desperate

Need of yours for avoidance.  It's not me. 

It's you.  And the worst part is, you know it.

- cela me fait autant rire aujourd'hui quand je pense à la mère de mon ami qui m'avait à ce moment fait la demande suivante... bien sérieusement...

Elle :  « Eille !  Ôte la patente d'su'a chose ! »

Moi :  « Euh... hm. »

rough translation...

Precision at Its Best

- it makes me laugh as much today when I think of my friend's mother who had at that moment made the following request of me... very seriously...

Her:  "Hey!  Remove that thingamajig from off the thing!"

Me:  "Uh... hm."