I 'found' myself in Africa

I have been out of range for more than a week and am starting to show signs of withdrawal. A withdrawal from being unable to enter my world of blog. I have found myself dreaming of Internet connections and portals to keyboards. I now have the privilege of using my cousins computer. In his room surrounded by the periodic table, Dinosaur models and a mass Lego collection.

I have been in the wild so to speak, away in the African bush. I did attempt to climb a water tower to find an Internet connection(from old school land poles) I was unsuccessful. In sat at the top and took in the view: miles and miles of orange sky, a never ending bush and thorn trees. A soundtrack of thousands of bird species and the calls of the lion. Reminding myself I am amongst the untamed and feeling untamed myself(always) so,I carefully made myself down the tower to the other humans.

I will try and highlight my last week in one entry...

The day after my birthday I drove up into the bush veld with my grandparents, tired and unprepared for the hilarious evening ahead. My Grandpa and I trying to braai(barbeque) all I remember I remember was smoke in my eyes, us dancing round the fire trying to turn corn.

My first night alone:

In a beautiful room, copied as a ruin, was challenging. Although placed faraway from anywhere and in the middle of nowhere, my paranoia found a swap of fear for intruders to fear of animals intruding.After hours of scanning my room for snakes I fell asleep with ease but was soon woken by the grunting of a lion. Asa there is no fencing round our lodge and so close to all I got thinking. Surely if sharks sometimes attack humans surely then it is possible for a lion to come and have a snack off me in my bed. RIDICULOUS! I fell asleep to the sound of rain washing out the lions call.

WALKING:

My GP wanted to go walking. I politely declined reminding him where we were and sure I would go if he had a rifle, he did not, we heard later that a family close by had been mauled by lions, hence no walk.
I wander if animals observe us, suss me out before they gift us to observe them?

HIGHLIGHTS:

(1) A large part of my family arrived and yes of course there were the fireworks of a family feud, I'm sure the arguing and its loudness gave the animals a sound to fear, probably more wild then the wild, soon our tears died down.

(2) 'stealing' the open air land rover , me the driver, my mom, uncle and potential step sister my passengers. We we went for a joyride in the bush, I felt a part of. As I drove my mom filmed my uncle in a yellow dress pretending to be a game ranger and my step mimicking it all. It was funny and thrilling.

(3) Something that will live in me is the day we came across some very angry lioness, ready to kill, very Hungary. It was dusk and then dark, we had no light and no rifle and my potential step father shut off the vehchle. I cant describe what rush of fear held me down this night, i was twisted by it. I expressed that I had a bad feeling, my 'step sister' and I held on to each other as we tried to follow the green eyes.I could not see behind me and the cats became aggressive, almost vindictive, taunting us, i could See the hunt in their eyes. One was ready to pounce, another circling us as the other watched from the bush. I could not help but feel hunted and panicked, we soon left.
(strange I have no fear of elephants with in reach of me, as if they were to charge, it would be like being beaten up. A lion however would be ripped into pieces: no)

Alas the drama of my mind. Later the same evening something sprinted at me, I just saw eyes, thought it was a lion, I ran so fast and got away to see it was not a lion, but a Genet, the size of a house cat. All laughed at Me, including me.

I relaxed and breathed in my surroundings and addressed my fears. I know now what I fear or have feared most my whole life and like most people that is death. I fear nothing in between(well besides rejection and stuff) I learnt this when I feel a sense of belonging, from that I learnt to to take this sense of belonging with me and then to myself I will always belong.

As far as my fear, its just that, a paranoid sense of unknowing.

It seems I learnt more in the bush then just the basic survival of me.

flight of the chauffers

I went from practically feeling like a stowaway on a cargo plane to some character from gossip girl.
As I walked up what seemed to be the smallest plane I have been on, I couldn't help but notice the wings were
Smaller then the plane and the engines looked like tennis raquets, also they were brown instead of siulver or matt grey.
The interior of the plane came from 50 years back and the seats were as small as a normal chairs cushion shaped like a box.

As I have developed some flight fear over the years , this plane - was convinced : a deathtrap with tiny wings and cardboard seats.
I sat in the middle of two very large men and therefore had my elbows on my lap, but I somehow think even if they were two kids I
Would still have my elbows on my knees. As the pilot turned the engines on everything shook and thr gritting sound almost comotised me.
No no no , visions of fire and explotions I shut myself up and calmed myself down. Some meditation and positive self talk the flight
Brought me safely to my destination.

After a cramped 2 hours feeling like I was hiding in a crate on a ship, I got my luggage n I walked outside and for the firdt time in my life
There was my name on a board, held by a man in a suit. I had my own chaffeur, sitting in some new mecedes on my blackberry, looking out the window
Thinking "oh my god, I look like a spoilt little rich kid!" Well it was amusing playing that role for a while. Funny.

Before I boarded my plane today I made sure to see my therapist. Seriously go without her for 2 weeks, no!
The session was something a bit new, I was very animated, my hands everywhere, but focused and she is not indefferent
She is supportive: and that is a comfort. Its agreed I am finding a recovery that works for me, she did of course refer to me as an a cultural
Addict(what ever that is?) I took from it that sometimes some do not fit in to the programme, and I can successfully find , and positivley look forward
To this working for me.

Todays yesterday, tomorrows today!

carefree to me

I just feel great today, it seems modern gypsy still applies to me, but I feel amazing.
It could have something to do with the fact that I'm getting on a plane tomorrow and its carrying me to
A birthday holiday!

Before I know it I will be in. The bush amongst the wild. Wild in the wild as the wild.

I'm not going to say much as I have said what's most important, I'm happy and strong , grateful and for a few weeks I
Am completely free.

shafted but still shifting

I bam fed up with the brainwashing. Stop! I am not easily brain washed and I stick to what I believe,
I am not going to attend an AA meeting because its what ”should" be, yes according to
The councelors and the recovering addicts and the statistics. Frankly there needs to be space for new statistics and
Wether I comply to this program or not, I am still in recovery.

Yes I am a little angry. I am passionate about healing and learning, I get stuck everytime I'm told "mm, yes but 1e think you should do this."
Let me think what this means and polietly answer "but that is working for me" then ofcourse
I will be accused of doing it my way or thinking I'm special and different.
Another frankly there is always more than one way and its not about me doing it my way , its about me
Finding the best way that suits me.

Oh and another frankly "YES, we are all special and different!"

To be shunned by other addicts, correction,recovering addicts, just because I don't want to comply to what is offered, seems strange as just like any other addict trying to make way and stay clean
So am -, I am just choosing to do it without the fellowship, it does not make me less than or more at risk of relapse(as many are brainwashed to believe)
No need to treat me differently , I won't judge your choice to go to a meeting, so please don't judge mine not to as
At the beginning of each morning and the end of each day, we still have the same commenality(we are addicts,changing, one seconcond at atime)

No I won't go to a meeting today, but I will do what I have to to stay clean.

Can't we all just get along?

lazy sundays

I hate it when people ask me what I want for my birthday, I would love to answer, "well a G11 canon pls?"
Really I answer " I dint know, love" it seems I am a love addict. Gifts for me are loved when personnal, if someone gave me a piece of
Paper with a doodle I would be happy. Give me what feels right to you and alsoc if u don't want to rather don't
I'm happy with company. Enough said there.

I had a stress free day

Walked, had a braai, read the paper, worked on my module, made jelly as my mom made cupcakes and
Watched CoCo Chanel, and loved every detail.

I love days like these: itsleft me feeling lucky in company and shared experiance of cupcakes and jello.
Sure the cupcaked were blue with purple icing, but the great part was they were made for me.
I sometimes feel spoilt in love. The clashing colors of jellow to match the cake, being yellow and cherry red,can't imagine what colours are
Churning in my tummy, but its some kind of magic.

Stress free and zoned on the couch with not a worry, I can get used to this!

drunk and dusted

You know that feeling when you laughing and you not sue why cos you feel like crying!
Well I just found my self screaming, being unsure as to if this is funny or sad unfortunately my anger got the better of me
And scared the rest away!

I was laying in bed watching a movie as my uncles and mom boozed it up downstairs.
A bit like when I was young, the kids in the room well the
'adults'soclialise, beggening to think I was born an adult and am groing into a child?
Really engrosed in my film, I heard the music go up and then there were my mom and uncle, parading in front of me, dancing and singing.
Well I lost it.

I screamed at them almost barked and bit and they went running out. I locked the door and finished my moviem
Feeling guilty as I do so easily I went down to apologise. It seems no apology was needed as they forgot.
I'm trying to pin point my agression, think I know: yes something to do with how my mom just demanded I turn off my light at 10 30, hello
Mom I'm 30 and you're drunk.

*it does not bother me when others drink and carry on unless I am in some direct line of attack, wethere its ridicule,orsmothering
Or just to much of anything. Reaaly do what u want, just dnt include me when I am clearly
Not in the mood!

But hey , I can also be a moody *****

motion sick

One of those days when I am just not in the mood. I am fed up with all these 'professionals' in my life,
This rehab out of rehab. I have a shrink who medicates me and sees that the progran of th AA/NA does not
Allow for much individuality. I am in agreement.

I was then asked by my counslor, who I only happen to see twice a week, she asked me my dreaded and most avoided subject,
"Are you going to meetings?" , "no ofcourse" was my answer, "well how and why are you staying clean?"
I was direct and firm and looked her in the eyes , the answer simple and strong, "because I want to!"
To me that is more believable then me telling her that I'm doing this because of ...

Now as I have said beforen yes this fellowship works for some, and it has been proven and blah blah blah, I'm happy that that's what is
Working for them and clearly something else is working for me. It called a blance of belief.

Instead od these folks spendidng so much time trying to convinse me of thgier way, surely working with something that works for me as
Opposed to working with what works for me, I will never pretend that it works if it does not.

Tommorrow I am 6 months clean, I pretend to be modest but inside I am truly proud. And I am particulary proud that I have put in the work,
I continue to put in the work, even when so much has gone wrong, so much is right.
I have done this by honouring what works for me, with the guidence of beauty. - will go into this tomorrow,
For now I know, live , breather and feel what guides me. It not a programme or a person, it just is!


I'm now sitting next to my mom as we house sit a mansion that feels like a cruise ships, as if we floting on the ocean, I sometimes even feel sea sick,
My mom is sipping on her vodka convincing me that we have identical noses. And they perfect! Slightly irritated at her tipsiness, I humour her, and am 'confinced'
Its not that bad , eventhough I see har sadness, I remind myself I know her sadness(well)

So here : mommy and me, just stting on our boat of moving souls on the gifts sea.

un love

Every treatment centre I have been to , I have always fallen "in love" with my counselor. My true love has always remained my therapist.

I know this love is not real. I become besotted with there kind, fascinated at what they do. I reveal almost every part of my, psyche,being, i deconstruct my soul and they help me reconstruct. In a way I am loving myself through loving them. Sometimes my love for them is really just intrigue.

I have flirted with many a shrink, seduced many a therapist(weather by emotional attachment or lust I would like to imagine) Never do they really take the bait and often it is just that way because I know it's safe. Why not flirt with the very thing I can not have. For if I can not have it, I can not be hurt.

What happens if i can have what I want. What if I am my complete self and unexpectedly one of these beauties falls for me. No never did I think that could be a reality. It has indeed become the wanted is the hunted and now the hunted is the wanted and the roles change over.

If it is there, can I truly love a person I trusted as my... I don't know anymore. There was a time I believed I could and then slowly I noticed I didn't know if this person was my professional,my lover or friend? My head spun out. I look at you and see beauty, i look at you and I love, but there is a voice that sometimes screams at me: this is not right, you can not be. Unravelled layers of love and doubt, then deceit.

I don not purposely walk to you and open my arms. I think what has happened is I have lost. For we could just be chasing an idea, I think love for me is intrigue.

A client falls "in love" with a counselor. This is her pattern, she loves. She opens every door and trusts her councilor to walk through and help build. In the doors the councilor walks and opens her doors, they become entwined. The client becomes obsessed with this, a councilor to love me? Confusion rides the client through, they elope emotionally, touching mouths imaginatively. Due to ethical reasons her path changes, the councilor disappears. The clients life falls apart, she can not handle the loss. First her councilor,then her friend and finally her lover.

The client partially accepts things as they are after weeks of tears. The councilor who is councilor no more calls: The client is stunned, and naturally falls into the sway of things, thinking she wants this,knowing she wants that, things are clouding her mind. She falls again. She still talks as if it were her councilor, but feels cared for and wanted. She natural turns that to want.
Soon the client who is me, realises I know!

My being wants to be cared for, thrives on being loved, cant unlove once I've started. The advice been given by my group of geese, have sang: A relationship started in doubt can never.... I think, and I talk and I explore my feelings, all seems lost but know its not.

Is love just intrigue?

I am not ready for any kind of love.


actually if i look at me, naked now as I am: faceted by what is real: naked as in all layers wrapped off, I can see I am beautiful. I Strive to love myself as I am and often fall. So I will do what I do best, pick myself up and keep moving.

i keep

Could be? That eveything has just suddenly gone silent.

A mind that works over time,over play, over kill, now dormant.

Thoughts piercing even when asleep. I weeped.
I find myself at a calm standstill reap. I reaped.

This might last only a wink,
Tick tock I cant think

a point in time that has elapsed with empty peace.


















I like that blank piece.

The sky is not falling

Today I remember the voice of Chicken Little from my childhood, "The sky is falling" My world today is similar to this story, except I am not a chicken and my 'friends' are not farm animals.

One still beautiful morning I was drinking my coffee, staring at the calm sea. The sun came up from over the mountain as I hummed happily to myself.
Suddenly a voice came down and hit me right in the gut, bringing up old feelings. I dropped my cigarette and looked up. I could see the shadow of my stepmother and feel my heart go numb. Unaware she had dropped an "acorn on my head" unravelling in my heart, feelings still carried through from a harmful seated place.

"Oh fuck" I thought, "The sky is falling! I must run and tell my therapist" As i drove past there house, towards town, I called my mom who was working. "Why, 'chicken little', whats wrong with you?" asked my mommy.
"oh fuck mom, the sky is falling,and I'm going to tell my therapist!"
"Oh,'chicken little'what do you mean?"
"I saw it, I heard it, I smelt it,I felt it with my very own eyes,mind,heart and ears" I answered.
"I am here for you" my mom said calmly.

You get the point...
Basically I spent the weekend at my dad, A whole lot of stuff came up that I don't understand. I understand I can not change who they are or what is said to me , or even what they think of me. I just cant understand why certain things are so hurtful and I am helpless. I am not helpless over how I react to these things, BUT today was one of those days I felt The sky was falling, the ground was sinking and rocks were been thrown at me from the ground.

The chicken little saga, is that how I reacted , I was flustered, spending my day phoning my nearest and dearest, spitting out my frustration, hurling my hurt at the wrong people, I was angry, I brought everyone along for this ride. Angrily "why are they like this and why do they do this and why would they treat me in that way" (THE SKY WAS FALLING: and I was screaming it out to all)

I stopped at what I now refer to as my "parole officer" being my councilor. I got angry with her, telling her I'm sick of 'them' (my councilor and shrink) one tells me to do this , the other that and I become confused. With venom in my speech, I said "why don't the two of you just print out a list, telling me which books I can read,which movies I can watch,what people I can see etc, so that I can meet your bloody standards!" "Where does that anger come from ?" she asked, "The sky is falling, The sky is falling"

Home sweet home at my grandparents and where I am very happy to be. It started out well, I spoke of my weekend and then it happened again, those old feelings from childhood of not being welcomed and never understood, sometimes even heavily punished for being 'special and different' , yup, heaven came crashing and "the sky was falling"

phew, and then just like chicken little, after the fox tried to eat him and his friends, my fox being my mind going all negative on me and brandishing me to rocks and mud. All I was thinking, I need to tell my therapist, I want to tell her now. Things turned, grandparents suggested a lovely walk by the sea. I moaned and said no and called my mom, she laughed, 'that's okay, don't go for a walk, just sit with yourself and soak in self pity. So like chicken little I screamed once more "the sky is falling" I walked down the lane,through the dust roads,past the green sea,around the thistle trees,and back to the car and up the lane to home. Brought in the garbage bin and sat outside calmly with me, To my grand parents delight I forgot all about telling my therapist the sky is falling. To there delight, i no longer believed the sky was falling.

Today this was me.

this is yesterdays

Isn't it strange how in a place you have never felt truly welcomed you can be so warmly welcomed and in a instant of one small incident u become unwelcomed. Strange how life works.

Today I arrived at my dads place with an irritating feeling in my gut. How are they going to treat me (after the psyche ward) what will I say? Can I be myself? For so many years it has been a struggle to be any of that here. Well the fascinating thing, with all our history,energy I did what came naturally. I played no role, I played myself so to speak.

After a lovely dinner, pomegranate juice flowing, laughing, bonding and a family love I have always craved. A heartfelt steak blending with butterflies of tender rare caring, salted with open minds, no seduction was needed as this was pure so easliy intoxicated with feeling.

Well here I am feeling welcomed and comfort, I ask what I think is a normal thing, "can I use the computer please" I almost knew the answer just from the silence, her face almost told me before she mouthed the words. Plainly, this is my dads house, where I would like to feel at home and it comes a little hard when, there are 3 computers IN this house and - apparently can't use any?

Well I'm not sure what it is but I'm sure what my thoughts are: in a short space of realness so easily the fake sets in? If I can't use a computer in my own fathers house what is it about me? I'm sure I am feeling not only irritated but in one turn of a ridiculous answer everything seems divided and how can I tell what's real or is it realish.

Well its okay, I wear the real on my sleeve and keep the rest in my pocket.
And its more okay that I can send this through my sister by pen through , phone, my ink is my blackberry and my pen is you.
That moment of 'family ties' was worth every bit to put all the real that comes with it , close by on my sleeve.

REALLY?

Stuck for non entity. Today I waited for my dad and them to go on their four hour cycle. I am using their excessive exercise time,, to sneak into my spemothers "office" so I can communicated with my blog. This is ofcourse sfter watching rugby with them at 7 :30am(dedicated to their sport) so here quick before I get caught....

Where is the line between real and un real
something you touch smell or feel
could be just as yes as it could be no
something you may want to see or show

to differentiate the two why bother
therEs no telling one from the other...


Enough of that, I sit here, subdued by the blaring sun, sat at a river bed, giving up on deciding what connection should be made, how things should be felt. I don't mind giving that up, for then I have no ones ideas to live by. Not even mine, simply I just live and if the ideas come with then, bonus.

To spend time with family I might or might not understand, as they may or may not understand me is well ordinary. Understanding is an understatement. I have learnt that support is far more interesting , more useful and could be beneficial for relationships to work. To continuously strive for others understanding of you, could be a fateful expectation. So I will rather go with what is already there, fore yes, to understand is to known but how boring would life be if we were all KnoW it alls. Maybe lack of understanding gives more learning experience which Finlay leads to some kind of communicative : UNDERSTANDING.

buttons and dreams

"The old ladies in Fish Hoek are as mean as buttons! Well if buttons are mean?" My grand mother said to us at the dinner table tonight. It's definitely a phrase I Wont forget. Just after she said it, there was aloud noise outside. Like some kind of metal sheet smashing to the ground. I am so easily spooked I jumped and we checked the perimeters of the house. Convinced someone was waiting to pounce on me outside, I had my grandfather escort me to the garden, while I smoked, just to make sure no one was there. Well No one is there!

I have always been easily spooked and as a result of what ever that noise was, I know I will find it hard to sleep. It is no doubt a result of all the break ins I experienced as a child, including my moms scream when an intruder was trying to strangle her. Well I never knew that part til last week. I do of course remember the screaming and a strange man running in to my room, where my sister and I had decided to have a sleep on the floor. So I remember the stomping confusion and brown boots. The next day on the wall we found yellow foot prints, so for a large part of my child hood I believed a yellow man had broken in.

So now as an adult when ever I am unsettled i become terribly rattled. I have a fear of intruders. Maybe I should just convince myself that small "yellow" men can do no harm. Believing that intruders are just part of the darker side of my imagination. I can then use my lighter side to create giant red beautiful woman. These woman are yellow men catchers. Mmm almost like a dream catcher. Therefore I am protected.

That reminds me, I said to my therapist today, I'm tired of everyone trying to protect me(specifically my dad), I cant be protected! She asked me to repeat that, "I said I just cant be protected!!" she wanted to understand what I meant by that, really at the time I did not know and my answer was obvious, well how is anyone going to protect me from me? I am putting some more thought into why I would say it. " I cant be protected " is quite the statement, I need to understand it myself.

For now I am happy to be protected by fiery , giant lady 'yellow men" catchers.

10 steps to reason

I just watched 39 steps with my grandparents, we have really got into our old Hitchcock films. I find that I smile the whole way
through, just appreciation the brilliance of how simple film was back then. This is one of the 10 highlights of my day.

2- Hearing the exciting screams coming from the children on the beach, shrieking with laughter as they swam in icy water.

3- Walking along the rocks bare foot, enjoying every moment as my feet met the sand and soaked in the water well I thought of nothing.

4- Nana's well nurtured soup.

5- A whole hour of an afternoon nap. The best part is that I was only half sleeping, my other half was awake. I felt like I was floating.

6- sending an email to my lecturer, with an attachment that was my second module.Completed.

7- Sharing thoughts with my sister, even though she is 7793 miles away.

8- The color of the clouds as the sun goes down.

and 9-Laughing. Just laughing with my grandparents over dinner. blessed are we with laughter.

I may be a bit low, or could be a tad high, but these 10 hings make it easy for me to lay my head down and smile before I close my eyes.

delusion or solution

Well, so much for my diet. I have spent most of the day , viciously biting the heads off bunnies(yes they chocolate) Devouring non alchohlic trifle made just for myself, some crumpets for breakfast, Delicious chicken casserole in between. I say this with a white coated chocolate egg in my mouth, deciding what will I have for dinner. Thank goodness for the litre of water I used to wash this down.


So what is really going on for me? Am I using this whole Easter weekend as an excuse for gluttony or am I perhaps using food as a drug? Well that's all debatable. It becomes null and void once i place myself on the scale. STOP!

I had a visit with my councilor today. A new old councilor. She is quite direct. Shoots me to the chair and opens my eyes. I go on about this and that, and how my life has no meat, and just existing really is just not good enough. How I hate it here and there and everybloodywhere. I have been depressed, my eyes on the ground, vicious cycle of up and down. I mentioned my latest obsession of visual diaries and my own art therapy, blah blah blah.

She struck me with her sharp words once again. As I drove home , I said loudly 'oh so that's how a therapeutic process works" when you've left the room. I became more hopeful with undertones of negativity, as it does not just vanish. But it's a working process. It got me thinking about what I do want and why I want to live where I want to live. I realised with that thought pattern it pushes the what I don't want over the edge. Sure I want to watch that negative self talk, hitting the ground after falling from 300 story building. To just die would be far to easy for me of course.

To have a new undertone, slightly meshed with the old, is more hopeful than just the old. I mean seriously, let me look at my situation again. Yes I'm confused, where do I live what do I do? Yes I am fragmented and slight disconnect from people and self. But it's not all that bad. I am lucky if anything, to be living by the sea, with people who love and feed me, listen to me , speak to me. I wake every morning near sunrise engaging in beauty and a bit of surreal her or there. I am on a holiday , a journey of being exactly where and what I have to be.

I am curiously finding my own neverland with a stable frame of everland.

Swim with the bunnies

I was woken by my Nana at 4:45am, I couldn't understand "what are you bloody thinking , waking me up so early" Not realising for some reason my crackberry decided to go back in time an hour and I was to be on the beach by 6:30am for an Easter service. She walked back in my room loudly asking"am I going to the beach on my own?" , "Are you mad Nana, it's only 5:15am" No it was not. I managed to get dressed drink my coffee have my morning cigarette, in the dark in all of 10minutes. Oh and wake and convince my uncle to come with.

It was beautiful, none of us Methodist and me being concerned the congregation would find out. Silly concern for such a beautiful sunrise... I noticed a family of different generations of ladies. I imagine mom, her sister, a daughter and a gran, taking there clothes off. I thought oh OK a baptism on Easter Sunday, why not. No there they were in there swimsuits. One minute on the sand the next paddling in the water. I felt the very icy cold breeze, looked up at the sky, grayish, looked back at these woman and though"crazy" But sweet.

After some small talk with a few neighbours about my uncles loud voice that could possibly carry across the neighbourhood but apparently to his joy does not. We returned home to my grandfather. "you really missed out!" said I, he answered sarcastically "you people just leave me here , well you go out and have a good time!" how dare we, we chuckled and sat down to breakfast.

The day went by as I pondered about omens and the what birds symbolise, with a soundtrack of debates about politicians and Ertha kitt serenading the scene. Soon my mommy arrived. I miss her sometimes, even though we live in the same city. I guess it's because I have been so lost and disconnected from all. She sat next to me, hugging me like a little girl, I love to watch her interact with her boyfriend. He is a tad deaf(well a lot) She being loud has a knack of keeping him in tune, perfectly paired.

My mom and I played Easter bunny for who I call my "stepsister"(my moms boyfriends daughter) I ran around hiding eggs in either very obvious places or very well hidden, thought provoking hide outs. As she wandered around the garden, a voice hummed, col, no colder, okay warm warm warm, luke warm, warm to the left, hot hot hot hot.... This voice was mine. It took me back to child hood, when my sister, cos and I used to hunt like hooligans , searching our Easter treasure, the adults would direct us with, cold for if we were far, warm, meaning closer, and hot we've got it!

Oh, shit, its my voice, I'm an Easter bunny adult!

So sure I am an adult who is not permitted to make decisions about my life due to circumstances and bloody consequences of my addiction. Fine I may not be able to choose to live on my own today, or buy what I want tomorrow.. BUT I got to be an adult for a child who needed a bunny, so for today that is plenty of a gift.

My lens seems bleak

'Everybody hurts... Sometimes..."

Well today I am a particle of that everybody and my time is now.
I was just sitting on a rock at the sea, I took not at how unsettled it was but how calm her wake washed to shore. It felt lime a reflection of where I am at.

I find it hard to admit when I am depressed(I guess its like admitting defeat, although a sense of sadness is not defeat at all, i just snidely convince myself depression is a mirror to defeat(NOT)) I was pondering on life and existence, I believe the must be far more to life then just existing alone. I remind myself what my therapist said "remember at the moment you are looking through your depression glasses" (something like that. I think , if only it was as easy as just removing this lens of radical sadness.

I feel as if my core has been hit by a rouge train. I am overcome with a low of bitter sweet temptation into vanishing to the lust of gloom. Pitted in my being i feel fragmented, with light gleaming through my cracks, and a shadowy smoke luring in the demons through the facets.

Deceived by Bi Polar comedown from the most missed mania. I choose manic over this at the click of my fingers and the breath of my lungs first attempt to push out the shallowness of numb.

Luckily There is the light that still beams through, I so delicately hold on to my light. A light strong enough to keep me moving. I know this will pass, I just wish I could rush the process. "I like to move it move it, I like to move it move.." ringing in my ears.

The bonus about my little trip to the psyche ward, my ever so raucous low, is that I have been pardoned by the tertiary(rehab) for a few months, to take time out. Honestly I don't see me going back there, but let this dismay pass and see where my road takes me without my foggy vision, when I can make clear decisions.

It was once said to me, well its been said to me repetitively , over and over again, that we are only given what we can handle. My question is what if I run out of the stamina to handle what is given?

I then remind myself each time I fall to my shallowly pit, i often allow to control me, I remind myself to rise and just take it as it comes. It cant come forever. Also just allow myself to feel what is given, for one thing I have always been certain of, is all that is given is given with and in reason to my outer journey.