F.i.in.e Moods

- physio is so-so... meds not causing problems but no effects yet on pain relief... so, constant pain and periods of debilitation are pretty much it still... emotionally, well, it's a mix of a lot as life continues to not be so simple... beyond exhausted, feel drained...

Can't make up my mind

As to which is the worst :

Emotional pain

Or

Physical pain.

They feel on equal footing,

But so very differently anyway.

One thing that is identical, though,

Is the amount of energy needed.

It'll make you feel dead.

It'll make you feel it's not a life.

That much I can clearly

Make my mind up on.

They're so full of themselves, I think,

Maybe they think they're better than me.

The funny part about that is

They don't even know me.

Only what they've built together

From surface bits and pieces,

Interpretations,

Speculations.

Yet they're sure of their impressions

And feel justified in being rude to me.

I'll never understand that side of us, how

It takes so little to be unkind to each other.

He calmly added : 

"For sure, his disabilities

Have my every sympathy.

However, they don't negate

The fact that an asshole is

Still nonetheless an asshole -

It's not un-PC to say

The truth of the matter,

Wheelchair or not."

The look on their faces...

- que ceux qui l'entourent... 

je dois avouer,

si les choses

continuent comme

ça, je vais développer

un complexe, là...

The Walls Have More to Say Lately...

- than those who are around...

I must admit,

if things

carry on this

way, I'll develop

a complex, là...

- my stomach is always making me burp... but I mean burp :/  I'm careful to not burp around people, but sometimes, they just come out... one of those moments... 

This happened many years ago

And the memory is as vivid.

It's the day my twelve-year old's

Friend met me for the first time.

I was alone at home,

The kids out to friends',

So I put on Death Metal

On the sound system,

Also took a shower;

You know, taking time

For me doing my own

Things in a kid-free time.

On that day, it happened

While I hadn't realized

My son and his friend were

Standing on the kitchen doormat.

I came out of the shower, towel on head,

Wearing a long-enough (thankfully!) black

Tank top with a skull print on the front,

And loudly buuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrped

On my way to my bedroom.

The music had enough volume,

But my burp was heard anyway.

This is the point, my son says,

That his friend turned to him,

And asked, "Is that your mom?"

With an air on his face that tried

To not show surprise...

My son has teased me about this -

He still says it was the funniest thing.

I keep thinking what a first impression!

Embarrassing doesn't depict it justly.

* on this day, a few things were unusual :  death metal on the sound system 'cause the kids were out at friends' for sleepovers and I had some alone time, a rare occasion; wearing a skull-print tank top I never wear which I'd quickly grabbed for my shower exit to go get dressed; and burping with people around... I can only imagine what the kid was thinking of this scene... :)

For a 'professional'

I'd say you're limited

In your views,

In your experience.

I say this 'cause I saw

Your notes of what you

Understood of what I shared

With you about my life.

My saying that I needed

To get away from what

I was doing for getting money

Isn't what you interpreted.

You jumped to the

Stereotypical conclusion

Even though I never said

Anything of the sort to you.

So now there are official

Notes in a file reporting

That I prostituted myself when

Never did that ever happen.

How do you suppose that

Makes me feel, you think?

It's a load of nonsense,

There's no way in reality.

So fed up of you 'professionals'

Creating a narrative that bears

No resemblance to my circumstances...

Get with it is all I feel like screaming.

Everything I remember,

You have no recollection...

Psychosis took you over,

Made us all try our best...

You wanted me to check

If you were in the other room...

You barked and growled at all males,

Wanted them all to disappear...

For days you unravelled

Before our eyes...

I didn't know what to do

Or how to help you in any way...

It was the most powerless

I'd ever felt in my life so far...

I tried,

Oh I tried...

I don't think I could make a

Single difference to your distress...

To this very day,

I don't think I ever did...

It isn't because I know I can't

That my mind will stop itself

From devising every possible

Way of attaining it successfully

That's just going to go around

Be tossed, bumped, and flipped

It'll get as creative as it can

And I'll vicariously live them all