F.i.in.e Moods

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...

My dear, it may be time for you

To not be so harsh on yourself...

You're really not doing so bad

Despite where you started from.

Remember when all of this was

An absolute impossibility...

That's not nothing, my dear.

My dear, it's true you may have

Times when you struggle to feel,

But remember, it's usually when

You accomplish all of your processing

Of what's going on, you understand.

That state is only always temporary,

Then you find your footing again, my dear.

My dear, it's more than likely time for you

To rebuild how your mind works,

To eliminate the defense mechanisms

That shaped the way you got on in life

Because of the required survival mode

You had to have in place to stay alive...

But those aren't needed anymore, my dear.

My dear, I know you know.

We'll need to just give it time, my dear.

Not sure why exactly,

But whenever I'm told

That I'm resilient, strong,

Or that I'm a survivor,

It really irks me.

I don't get what those

Words are meant to offer me.

Plus, the little note of 'Bravo'

That comes with them is so

Very, very annoying.

Sure, the intention is no

Doubt from a kind perspective,

But on the receiving end,

It makes no sense as an impression.

And congratulations stick out sorely.

How is being resilient anything

To feel boosted about?

Or being perceived as a survivor?

It does nothing for me.

And I don't believe it in the least.

- granted after over a decade being cooped up in my room, it's probably not a surprise that it's been a shock to the system having this new world of people around me in the work context only for the last near two years now... my life has drastically changed in ways I never thought would ever be a possibility... all very positive changes, for sure... however, the social exposure is one I find difficult... sure my lack of practice, so to speak, might have something to do with it, but at the same time, people's behaviors are often difficult to follow... they often make me feel in disbelief and mind blown... 

It's finally been determined recently by my health professional that my main diagnosis is complex post traumatic stress disorder... which didn't come as a surprise at all... you don't go through all I've been through without coming out of it affected... there's no way... the only surprising thing about it is how it took over 30 years to finally be clocked by a health a professional... 

When my new life began two years ago, I guess I was hoping having people around me would be a good thing and possibly help me to make connections with others... but that is not what I'm finding at all... it's a huge disappointment... and the experience only reenforces my belief that I just don't belong anywhere... there's no place for me... 'cause I don't want to jump in this way of being with others just to 'make it'... it just doesn't make sense at all and there really is no appeal...

sorry for the rambling... just in a weird phase, working out stuff, I guess... as ever, thanks for your support... means a lot *hugs* xx

Dealing with people is truly an art,

One for which I simply do not

Possess any sort of significant ability...

And being forced to is pure torture.

Don't get me wrong, I do not

Not like people, that is not the issue.

I easily get along with everyone...

But not everyone wants to.

That's the part that immobilizes

My mind and I can't find the reason 

Why a lot need to create stories

And make everyone's time miserable.

Gratuitous unkindness has a way

Of triggering parts of my past,

And I realize that's no one's problem

But my own, but come on...

It comes to me completely uninvited

And apparently, it's my burden to

Learn how to deal with this nonsense...

Which is everywhere anywhere people are.

It's unavoidable, it just is how it is.

It's exhausting, so disheartening, really.

Like a gradual shutting down,

One by one, they're diverted

To a blank where no emotion

Can actually be felt inside me

No sight inspires creativity

No thought or happy memory

Finds a way to form for me

All there is is a soaring void

Find myself so disconnected

From me, from all around me,

Like there's no existence,

Certainly none worthwhile

And the thought of trying

Only feels unappealing...

So exhausted.  So alone

So not meant for any of it

The question of "why bother?"

Becomes increasingly difficult

To figure out as time moves on

There's really nothing for me here

And I have nothing to offer either

Can't escape the truth of the matter

Keep trying to figure out,

What keeps me going,

The why for any of it, and

What the actual point is?

Can't say an answer is

Coming to alleviate

This insistent wonderment,

There's just this:

Nothing animates anymore,

A point is impossible to find.

So, what keeps me going?

It seems to be lacking sense...