Change- A dream I had last night...

There are people every where, and never a moment alone. I am always with someone, whether or not I wish to be, and that person is always too interested in what may happen in my future. They're all Indian; there is one woman with gifts like mine- much more mature and able to see clearly- and a few men and children. The woman has laid it all out in her mind and she knows what is ahead of me. <<Jim>> and I just want to sneak away and smoke; there are accidents where the weed is lit in an all too public place, and sometimes accidentally while I am in the house being directed to write down my dreams into a journal I am borrowing from the woman.

The dreams that I could not remember this week are now clearer in my mind. There is a house with young men- 16-20, who enjoy playing magic cards and watching movies. The way to their house is green, with tall trees whose branches hang low into the street of shiny, colourful and new cars. I don't remember the importance of going to the house, but I remember feeling I was hiding something, either with the boys or from them. 

Different people want to help me. I am in a position where I know I need all the help I can get. However, it doesn't seem like anything anyone says to me is really that useful. The Indians have a similar behaviour to those in my apartment complex- the ones that tried to cut a raw frozen turkey in half on the floor with a rusted saw. I feel cynical. The medicine woman still speaks to me- what she says makes sense.

Outside, there is a dirty mattress and two men that keep coming back. One looks like the hitch hikers on the road to BC in a yellow raincoat. The other is dressed in black and green- he wears goggles that cover his face. Both men continuously come back; one of the Indians brought back a yellow tent that he had found in the woods and had not thought it belonged to anyone. Both men were under the belief that it was theirs and they wanted it back; it was all they had. Aggravated and annoyed by their repetitive appearances, I finally got up and told them to fuck off. "The tent has a giant hole in it anyways, it's completely useless, so just forget about it." I tell them honestly. They leave, sort of, part of them always stays there.

Our socks keep going missing in the living room that is also part of the front yard- carpet fades into yellowing grass. <<Jim>> and I end up smoking in a spiral staircase lined with cement. At the top of the stairs, comes down my brothers sisters, they are smiling and laughing, concerned and yet carefree. <<Jim>> lights up, and the smoke dissipates into the air, for a moment I am frightful that they will know what we are doing, but they never catch on, nor do they seem to care. They stop for a moment to say hello, and there is brief discussion of socks and the like that seem to be missing these days.

The Indian woman takes me away for a moment to tell me what will happen. The grass and trees around us are a much deeper green then they were before and I feel I can trust her. She asks me about the dream journal and I tell her I have written the dreams down. She tells me to also write this one down, it will be important. Finally she says "You are confused, you are holding on to the way of life you have right now because you feel comfortable. This is a lie. This life no longer suits you, and in that way you will not be happy." She points to <<Jim>> and laughs "I don't care if you need to break up with him, you can get back together later, but something needs to change. You need to shake things up, and kick up the dust that has been settling in around you in comfort."She turns and flips her raven hair before looking back at me- her eyes are so dark.

"He spoke to me. Steven says he can't see you, he can't hear you. He can see everyone else but you."

This makes sense to me, somewhat, because I cannot see or hear him either and I should be able to. That is one of my gifts, isn't it? To see the dead, to hear them, to know them- why can neither of us connect now? Were my gifts a lie, or am I simply too blocked to feel anything from the other side?

She says before waking me, "You need to kick the dust up. Change needs to happen." And I am reminded firmly to write this dream down once I wake. And so I do...

Control...

Okay, so blogger changed a bit? :(



Hm, alright so I'll probably delete this later...





I'm just going to go on a banter about some control issues I'm having and figure out why it's bothering me or what I need to do to well... control my own situation within myself, if that makes sense.



I get frustrated in bed whenever I don't feel like I don't have enough control. I mean in the long run when it comes to bedroom fun, I do have control. I mean I can say when (usually any time, because it's not often that I'm not in the mood or can't be convinced, or after hours of being groped and/ore pawed at not eventually get in the mood) and I will often ask for things, like oh do me from behind or maybe some directions on how I like to be played with. Also as far as I know, when it comes to things like bdsm, the one who is submissive can be considered to have the control because at any point they can yell out the special word and make anything stop or can egg the other person on by being a brat... And I do realize that I will start things, and do get time on top (though it's often interrupted with a switch of position or a cock flying out in the wrong direction... which sucks. :/ I being, that just feels suck for everyone)



But, as a switch, I like to be the one on the other side sometimes. You know, the one who gets to make orders, or do all the touching while their partner lays there helplessly being pleased. I like having the whip, figuratively and not. Nothing turns me on more than when I get to dictate just what happens next, within the rules and within respect of the other person of course. But what has always made any threesome for me so awesome, is that in most cases no one really knows what to do, so I get to pull on my man pants and start the show- sometimes even giving directions to the others. Of course, because I'm a sadomasochist I do like to cause a little pain (I like that flash of that bit of fright you just naturally get, even from the smallest pain, or surprise I guess, I mean I don't want them to be scared of me or anything, if anything i want them to trust me enough to know that I wouldn't truly hurt them and that if they asked me to stop I would stop). I love it when they're exhausted by the end of the night, and feel good because I've loved them so furiously, not because I've made them do things to me all night (not that i wouldn't... sometimes I like to be worshiped but that's kinda why I like submission, they want me enough to control me).



I guess that's a reason I like being with other women, usually I end up being the somewhat more aggressive one. I like the feeling i get watching them squirm underneath me when I'm on the drivers side. But that's not always an option...



I guess when It comes down to it, I feel like I get to express my passion (that fiery shit I'm full of) better when I'm in control, because so often I have to tone it down for the rest of the aspects of my life. I get to experiment with things I might otherwise be a bit anxious about trying- again that person still has the option to say no if it makes them super uncomfortable. But I also like the idea of possession, because I know in reality I do not possess anyone and they do not possess me- especially when I'm in an open/polyamarous relationship which leaves much room for other people to take over and less room to feel like "the only girl in the world"- which is a common want in a relationship, while unrealistic, it's still a nice feeling. It's also a chance for me to show them just how much I want them - sex for me isn't just physical, it's interaction between the intellectual and the spiritual (I won't enjoy myself if I'm not attracted to your personality or spirit). On the other hand it's a chance, like Alie says, for me to be my most higher self- which is not submissive, and not always gentle, nor is she quiet. My higher self is loud, fiery, passionate, confident... and my darker self is a huge part of me, and she is possessive, controlling, destructive and dominating.

I guess I feel like I don't have a whole lot of other outlets to express these parts of myself. I've spent a long time trying to balance myself within these things (the whole eid thing and bpd), and recognize that I can't do without them. But aside from art, I don't really have a place to express those darker and more intimidating parts of myself. It use to come out negatively, but I can't rip my hair out and make myself bleed whenever I want to feel red. (Maybe that's why I'm a fan of people who either like my scars or don't mind them- they're looking at my intense, darker self...)



So I guess that's it, that's what bothers me. I need an outlet for those parts of myself and that bedroom place is the only place other than through paintings that I feel I can express it. I mean, working out is one thing, but actually trusting someone enough to want them to see what I am or feel I am on the most internal basis is... well, kind of an important thing.





Trust is huge thing too- I want and like to feel trusted the same way I trust them. maybe I sometimes go too far, but it's never my intention and I will do what needs to be done in order to correct the situation. But if I feel trusted by other people I also feel more like I can trust myself- and that is a huge issue with me. I do have major trust issues... and I am working on that, but I do need to feel trusted by other people, like anyone else.



So.. simplified, some things that tie into the issue and things I should think about working on in other areas of my life:



1. A positive outlet for my more intense/darker/higher self that allows for expression.

2. coping with things that are outside of my control- school, debt, work, drama, smoking (ergh)

3. Coping with the wobbly insecure feeling of polyamary (recognizing my fear of losing people)

4. feelings of being wanted/needed

5. Having those moments of worship- being appreciated and appreciating.

6. Feelings of mistrust- being mistrusted and mistrusting others



Okay, I feel a bit better now That I've worked that out. :) I'll mull over it and look for options that might help with these so that I'm not maybe making others uncomfortable... hm. In the past I know I've had problems with this very thing, just didn't understand it very well. So hopefully this will help....

Tremors

Haven't had them in a while. :/


Random related story:

I'm terrified of heights. When I was 12 I went on a school trip to some crazy assed camp where they had the ropes... The ropes were fifty feet high, I do believe. They strapped us up in harnesses and we climbed up a ladder to the main pole, where some dude hooked us up to a wire so we could then throw ourselves into a perilous quest to... run around on ropes and floating logs. I made it to the pole, and then, Saw Conor who was also terrified. He said to me "There's no way I can do this. That Could break and I could die." My eyes widened. I hugged the pole tightly and had leg tremor fit for a half hour before they finally convinced me I wouldn't face certain death when I went down the fly line, I think that's what Its called... anyway it was awesome, I shot down like a crazy mo fo, and screamed "MOTHERFUCKING JESUS COCK!!!" (I was later informed that this language was not acceptable), and tremored all the way back to the cabin, and cried a little, uncontrollably.

Tremors sucked, but its funny. Poor fat Kids (Conor and I) stuck at the fifty foot high pole, crying. lol

The Clingy Girlfriend

The clingy girlfriend is an interesting phenomena in human relationships that seems to occur quite often and will be experienced at least once in a persons life. The clingy girlfriend has several attributes including, but not exclusive to:

1. needing/wanting way more of your time than you have to offer


The clingy girlfriend will often display the first attribute by texting often, calling often (sometimes more than a few times daily), emailing excessively, sending a scrupulous amount of facebook messages whenever you are online, staying over for much longer than she is wanted (sometimes she has a hard time fucking off), finding excuses to hang out with you and your friends, assumes that just because you're not doing anything you could be doing something with her.

2. giving and offering too much (money, gifts, sex, things you like)

The clingy girlfriend wants very much to win you over and will often resort to giving and buying things that she feels or thinks you will like. She may even go out of her way to buy something extremely expensive too early on in the relationship. like an 80$ watch... She may even offer her own body to you, often, and when she isn't actually interested. Yes, the female believes she is making small sacrifices in order to win your affections.

3. Losing interest in other things in life (her hobbies, her school, her friends, her life)

The Clingy Girlfriend may at times lose interest in herself and become obssessive with you. She may cancel appointments and stop going to certain events or even stop talking to friends. She may be inclined to suggest that you hang out with her and her friends just to prove that she has friends. She may, instead of doing her homework or working on some hobby (like painting for example) only want to hang out with you, therefore losing all her interesting attributes by just being plain clingy.

4. Procclaims love soon and demands the title girlfriend

Often, the clingy girlfriend is unsure about herself and insecure and will on occaision blurt out the l word much too soon in a relationship. She will also expect, since she is so obsessed with you, that you too be just as in lesbians with her. She may even wander around town talking about how awesome you are and how she is your GIRLFRIEND.

5. May become manipulative and insane upon your pushing her away (probably for the above reasons)

The Clingy Girlfriend may become so obsessed that as you lose interest, she will try to do ridiculous things to keep you interested. She may start showing up where you are when you're with your friends, just so you remember her existence. She may even hold out late night stake outs in front of your house to keep tabs on you. She may accuse you of cheating even though you were at home masturbating... She may even create dramas in your life to make you come back to her (for example, she might kill your real girlfriend or wife...)


All in all, that's a pretty scary thing. :/ I feel bad for atleast three of those things and shall proceed to kicking myself in the ass. *punt*

The Guest Station

The Guest station where I live is warm-
its nurture cyclical; nature unethical
One may come and go but never stay
Caressing the lips with jagged teeth
It claims the heart, whatever may

Its Bliss is the Y of open arms
The smoky fingers of 7's following
In the shadow of the giving breath
That steals the tracks unfurling
Before the train of Certain Death

Is there a future here I'd like to know
But by the whims that close the doors
His half-glance back tells me "No"
And should that howling train arrive
His hands will be the first to push
And on the rail I'm told I'll stay alive

A Collage of Boyfriends Past

The following is a collaberation of the emails and letters I have recieved from seven different men starting from when I was 17 to now. :P It sound epic, and paints a pretty gruesome picture of me. lol


Dear Opal,

I just can’t do this, my dear Opal, I realize that all of our time together was more or less immoral. You were just a kid. I've attempted to contact you once or twice, here and there, but I failed. I looked up your old number, but it was disconnected. Since then I've pretty much lost you in my memories, never thinking of you again. How you’ve beaten me down each day with that smile. You could never understand the pain, the dread that came with remembering your face. Now that I'm subject to them, I think I may have just been reminiscent of amusing moments without reflecting what talking to you would portend. Thinking about talking to you suffocates me- how can I fly with you if you have no wings? You’re a cement-feathered bird and to quote your song, you loved me dead. You filled my soul with vomit and then asked me for gum. No. I don't want to keep in contact with you. It’s because you’re bad for me, you’re bad for my mental stability and I just don’t think I can be around someone who hurts herself. Unfortunately, my dear Stone of the Lake, I can't see myself as just friends with you. My heart wants to paw at you but I know better. I’ve wanted for so long to be in your sight, to be the one and only one you ever think of, but you shot down at me like a savage beast from the sky and pinned me into a dark abyss. What part of your deep, black soul finds this funny, Oh beautiful Regina? Alas, I cannot be bitter toward the cruelty you have shown me, for you also showed me what love really is- A monster. So, I hope you're doing well, and those around you are as well, despite our meeting being rather a tragedy. Farewell, my dearest Rex.

On My Bipolar Disorder

I am Bipolar. Or at least I have been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder as well as an illness called Emotional Intensity Disorder (More commonly known as Borderline Personality Disorder which is a silly, nondescriptive name that was pulled out of some psychiatric majors ass). EID is "curable" unlike BPD which is a genetic issue that I (note the "I" in the sentence) believe is triggered by something in life. As in, one may have the genetic make up for bipolar disorder without ever actually having it, much like Schizophrenia.

Here is the full definition from Wikipedia:
"Bipolar disorder or bipolar affective disorder, historically known as manic–depressive disorder, is a psychiatric diagnosis that describes a category of mood disorders defined by the presence of one or more episodes of abnormally elevated energy levels, cognition, and mood with or without one or more depressive episodes. The elevated moods are clinically referred to as mania or, if milder, hypomania. Individuals who experience manic episodes also commonly experiences depressive episodes, or symptoms, or a mixed state in which features of both mania and depression are present at the same time.[1] These events are usually separated by periods of "normal" mood; but, in some individuals, depression and mania may rapidly alternate, which is known as rapid cycling. Severe manic episodes can sometimes lead to such psychotic symptoms as delusions and hallucinations. The disorder has been subdivided into bipolar I, bipolar II, cyclothymia, and other types, based on the nature and severity of mood episodes experienced; the range is often described as the bipolar spectrum."


Do you feel knowledgable? Awesome. I'm glad you feel the way you do. I am very glad you have the opportunity to sit there, know how you feel and trust that what you feel isn't delusional.


I have developed something of complex over my diagnoses which has lead me to many questions, many depressions and much more confusion and frustration. Now, I realize that I was already complex to begin with and much of my actions and/or unhealthy beliefs (such as, "If so and so left me, everyone will leave me so I am better off alone.") have been due to my "Illness" and that every word I say and everything I feel could simply be shut down with the comment "Oh she's Bipolar-". I also understand that, as according to societal beliefs and scientific discovery, much of my erratic behaviours and emotions are due to a chemical imbalance and could very well be disregarded as I could very well be experiencing what one would call "Delusion" or "Mania".

The thing is, is that I don't actually believe I am ill. There are times when I have felt so beat down by my moods and the psychaiatric jargon, and the severe levels of stress in my life that I have given in to the beleif that I am just ill and that all of this crap and all of my understandings are just the illness and truly not myself. But when the goings are rough, do you not question yourself and look to outside explanations for reasons you are the way you are? If you have been feeling down for a long time, and find yourself searching for something nearly invisible for so long that you decide "Hey, must be my Thyroid!" and run off to your nearest doctor for answers which are calculated more so by OBSERVATION than experience?

I am not denying science. I am not saying that what the psychaiatric world has deemed knowelege isn't somewhat factual (observations have been made, we can only say that probably yes, this is the problem because it was the problem elsewhere). But I am questioning our need as a society, to slap on a disorder to every person who thinks and feels at a different rate than the average person. And are they even average? Lets look at this graph from British Columbia for example...

Does the percentage of people without disorders or mental disabilities actually look like "the average" ? So why am I being treated as the person who is different?

What I really believe, is that I am normal and that I am gifted. I can see and feel things that others refuse to see or have not the ability to see. I mean this in the same sense that the next door neigbour is gifted in the way that he is double jointed or that Jeff has a gift for automatically understanding math. When I am in a spell of Hypomania- I have no inhibitions or fears, I am not afraid to step outside and play in the snow, I dance, I sing, I play pretend like a child would. I see the beautiful in everything. When I am in a bout of depression I feel all the angst and pain that tremors through the world, I see famine and I see the need for so much change and it almost feels hopeless, I see the dark and I peer right into it and tell it "I'm not afraid of you, I know you, I know your death, I know your trickery, I know the poison that you seep." I see and and want to see the things most people fear. When I am in between and in a stage you call "Normal", I am able to function in the walls that society has created, I am able to call upon my strength and meet any obstacle and make a that judgement based on logic. I can understand how things work scientifically... But more importantly, I can draw upon both of my polarities and see and discover how they intertwine and how whole I am with the understanding of both the light and the dark. I understand that one cannot exist without the other probably better than most (this is not to say that my understanding is one that cannot be matched). Because I have been to both, and I am a frequent visitor- I leave that dark place and I go back to it and I am able to discover new things. I may not understand the storm while I'm in it, but when I am gone and out of it, I feel I have opened up a whole new world to understand.

What makes what you call an illness so much more interesting... is that I feel it has given me an amazing ability to understand and feel what other people are going through in their lives. Whether it be absolutely fantastic or utterly horrid, I do not fear or resent it. I can walk with them and I can understand it- maybe not at that moment, but upon reflection i can match it with something I've felt and know what it is they need or want.

Yes. I understand that there are dangerous levels to which my "illness" can take me- I have been in the throws of suicide, and I have also been so unafraid of the world I've gotten into trouble. As with anything in life, this Gift has also it's consequences and demands a certain amount of control. It demands that I remember there is a proper and healthy way to channel its "powers". So I must keep a sleep schedule, and I must eat properly and I must take extra care to the things that may send me off the grayscale into the black or white which is not easy. But is that not the same with anything? The artist who spends too much time in fantasy may forget reality, and the mathematician who spends too much time calculating may forget that all things cannot be calculated.

What bothers me most of all, is that I am asked to remove those polarities from myself so that I can be a proper, healthy human being. And I have done so for long periods of time, but I cannot express the feeling of utter and complete autonomy and emptiness that comes with removing those parts of me. Without this disorder that has been so heavily placed on me, I lose my ability to write and paint, I lose my ability to understand other people (and yes, I have been told that I become cold in nature during periods of "normalcy"). And while I may function in the world as a citizen, able to keep a job and able to care for things in a logical manner and while I can feel to certain extent as a "normal" person would, I feel I lose something more important to who I am than anything else. I feel like I lose a part that has been engraved into my soul.

So, I ask you, is it really so healthy for me to treat this existence as a disorder and illness and treat it medically as though it's a lifelong infection with medications? I would not give you pills for your sadness, nor would I ever tell you that you were too happy. I would never tell you to stop seeing. Why would you to me?

A poetic Rant on Societal Bullshit By the Delusional

What I want to feel
Are the intense, the frightening,
the passionate
The swooping of the eagle
The tight clamp of his beak
Forcing the eternal slumber

But a devastation follows
Sickly with gritted words
And hollowness thereafter
Telling me to push the end

I could not sleep
For wanting less of it
I could sleep too long
For wanting more of it
It has a consequence
Of illness and erratic behavior

Crush the logical confines
Betray the Sequence of Science
You expect me to believe
My nature is a disease
Make me swallow your Blindness

I would froth at the mouth
And Pound you like insect
But the insect knows more nature
Than you could ever hope to understand

I am fire
You call me delusion
I am free will
You call me illusionary
Raping my soul
You could not know

What I can see
Is a treasure the romantics longed for
What I can see
Is the wonder, the world from new eyes
I see the sparkle of the snow
The growth of the trees
I am perplexed each day and caught in wonderment

And you tell me
That this is a sicknes
Because you
Behind your luxury
your fame
Your science
Your fact
Have simply forgotten.

Dare you call me delusional-
When it is you, who is ignorant?
I can only say
Without the vibrations of poetry:
Medicate yourself, Fuckhead.