and we're all poorly drawn chalk lines strewn across a million landmines. Hand stands on scared nettles and bleeding thorn vines. We were born fine but corrupted by our own air. Heirs to the vacant throne inside the broken home of despair. We're the watermark on a voided check. Dried up ink fading with the sunset. The temperature is rising, we're doing just the opposite. Drawn to extinction with out a composite sketch. We are the evidence in our own criminal negligence.
I could string together words like pearls and let them gently kiss your neck. But the lack of waves in the emotion would make the storm meaningless. I was born in a home without a father or a roof. a revolving door of false truths and apathy as the proof. A shattered faith and no escape as the smoke stacks laid waste. The trains burning holes in to space with the coal from their freight. I looked on from my window in 1988. Back then we were late. Not fashionably, just conveniently spending money irrationally.but there is no currency , then or currently, that could stop the tornadoes from running free so stunningly.
We are nuclear bombs controlled by automatons. There's dead bees on the lawn and the flowers are gone. I'm not yet a chalk line but I'm getting measured. If only I could stop the weather by saying something clever. I won't follow the street signs to a inevitable never. I may be with the ashes, but I burn with purpose. I will jump across the landmines till I'm no longer nervous. Eternal struggle worth every hour it brings. I'll bounce your acid rain checks in the interest of the notes the birds sing. She will rise.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Thursday, May 15, 2014
passing strangers.
I had a dream that I went off my meds. It was brought on by the anxiety that I may actually have to go off my meds because I can no longer afford health insurance and apparently I make too much money to qualify for free state's assistance. ( The whole healthcare debate is for another day and time.) The dream itself wasn't very memorable or specific aside from the confusion as to who I was. It was the whole day afterward that brought me back to those times of transition. Those days and weeks when you're either starting your meds or tapering off. Vivid in its haunting essence.
I first started anti anxiety/depression ( Prozac) meds and anti panic ( Klonopin) meds back in 2005. This was an actual legit regiment and not self medicating which I had done the 5 years leading up to this.
There's a huge inner struggle when you first start treatment. You don't know which part of you is real. You fight with the voices who think you're weak for submitting to a chemical. You fight with the chemicals that put out the fire inside you, and silence the voices that were your passion. ( A pause as I take a klonopin to help me to fall asleep.) You begin to feel better though. Months pass, things get realized in therapy, goals are set and met, and you've reached a peak. You know who you are. You have the skills and insight to navigate bouts of depression and anxiety. You have the thoughtfulness not to aimlessly lash out at your anger's whim. But you feel emotionally devoid. It's as if you're in a body inside a body trapped in a room with a half open window.
I don't think for one second I'll ever be fixed. I'm smart enough to know symptoms will rear their heads from time to time, but I'm strong enough to know I can decapitate them and send them along their merry way. I'm thinking about this now because I may be forced to pass that stranger again. Maybe I'm over ambitious but I really believe I'm ready. I never thought me requiring medication would be a permanent thing. I secretly wanted it to , because I feared that stranger who I may pass again. I do resign that I may from time to time have to take a klonopin in dire emergency as sometimes the physical anxiety can't be suppressed and I will have bouts of syncope otherwise.
There's a freedom to not needing medication. It is only a matter of the strength inside whether or not one can handle the freedom. In order to actualize my goals as a father, and artist I need that freedom back. That fire. I've just gotta pass that stranger and accept he's an old friend.
It's a slow transition. You have to spend weeks tapering off the anti depressants. Constantly take notes in changes of behavior and/or reactions to every day things. You have to be willing to admit that at the end of the journey you may be stuck with the chemical cure for life. The feeling is overwhelming.
Nights get longer as you taper. You feel that protective body leaving you. In the darkness of your closed eyes you literally pass by yourself. I literally saw my shadow pulling away the layers and I could finally breathe. There is a giant weight lifted off you. Your senses are heightened, your nerves have more feeling and you begin to come alive. You feel like a rock is being moved from outside your cave and the light is slowly caressing your face until your whole body is soaked in its life.
You see, think, smell, taste things faster. My physical body becomes faster. That feeling of numbness that the Prozac and Klonopin gave me is being shed away as I see the world for the first time. The stranger wishes me luck, and I him.
I want that back. I wanna see the stranger one more time and let him know I'm okay. Talking with a therapist for over 5 years has been a mirror forcing me not to look away as my past crumbled to ashes before me. The wisdom that has grown in me from my own errors is ready to be the shadow that moves the rock away from the cave. Give me back the light so that the fire can burn, controlled and with fervor. I can let the voices speak their mind, but now I've got veto power. I'm ready for this next step in my growth. I'm ready for the passing strangers to meet again, share notes and conquer the world.
I'm ready.
I first started anti anxiety/depression ( Prozac) meds and anti panic ( Klonopin) meds back in 2005. This was an actual legit regiment and not self medicating which I had done the 5 years leading up to this.
There's a huge inner struggle when you first start treatment. You don't know which part of you is real. You fight with the voices who think you're weak for submitting to a chemical. You fight with the chemicals that put out the fire inside you, and silence the voices that were your passion. ( A pause as I take a klonopin to help me to fall asleep.) You begin to feel better though. Months pass, things get realized in therapy, goals are set and met, and you've reached a peak. You know who you are. You have the skills and insight to navigate bouts of depression and anxiety. You have the thoughtfulness not to aimlessly lash out at your anger's whim. But you feel emotionally devoid. It's as if you're in a body inside a body trapped in a room with a half open window.
I don't think for one second I'll ever be fixed. I'm smart enough to know symptoms will rear their heads from time to time, but I'm strong enough to know I can decapitate them and send them along their merry way. I'm thinking about this now because I may be forced to pass that stranger again. Maybe I'm over ambitious but I really believe I'm ready. I never thought me requiring medication would be a permanent thing. I secretly wanted it to , because I feared that stranger who I may pass again. I do resign that I may from time to time have to take a klonopin in dire emergency as sometimes the physical anxiety can't be suppressed and I will have bouts of syncope otherwise.
There's a freedom to not needing medication. It is only a matter of the strength inside whether or not one can handle the freedom. In order to actualize my goals as a father, and artist I need that freedom back. That fire. I've just gotta pass that stranger and accept he's an old friend.
It's a slow transition. You have to spend weeks tapering off the anti depressants. Constantly take notes in changes of behavior and/or reactions to every day things. You have to be willing to admit that at the end of the journey you may be stuck with the chemical cure for life. The feeling is overwhelming.
Nights get longer as you taper. You feel that protective body leaving you. In the darkness of your closed eyes you literally pass by yourself. I literally saw my shadow pulling away the layers and I could finally breathe. There is a giant weight lifted off you. Your senses are heightened, your nerves have more feeling and you begin to come alive. You feel like a rock is being moved from outside your cave and the light is slowly caressing your face until your whole body is soaked in its life.
You see, think, smell, taste things faster. My physical body becomes faster. That feeling of numbness that the Prozac and Klonopin gave me is being shed away as I see the world for the first time. The stranger wishes me luck, and I him.
I want that back. I wanna see the stranger one more time and let him know I'm okay. Talking with a therapist for over 5 years has been a mirror forcing me not to look away as my past crumbled to ashes before me. The wisdom that has grown in me from my own errors is ready to be the shadow that moves the rock away from the cave. Give me back the light so that the fire can burn, controlled and with fervor. I can let the voices speak their mind, but now I've got veto power. I'm ready for this next step in my growth. I'm ready for the passing strangers to meet again, share notes and conquer the world.
I'm ready.
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