Love, Lies and Records

It seems most everything reminds me of my Ex. Now a scene in one of my shows “Love, Lies & Records”

The story line, though written for a heterosexual couple, was so similar to what I experienced in my relationship, it brought me to tears.

How do you get over someone, you still love?

Although we can’t be together, I can’t imagine myself with anyone else.

[I understand how one spouse, loses another and never wants/desires to be with anyone else]

I know it’s this idle time, that makes me think of her more. But fact is, we had a lot of great times.

[The physical attraction so strong, we had secret rendezvous, for 15 years]

I learn from everyone I encounter. She would open the Blinds/Curtains. As soon as she woke up.

[I used our break up, to lose weight and get fit]

Having depression, I liked darkness and was annoyed. But got used to it.

And I realized, it made me feel better.

[why I think of her so often]

How do you move on?

Question, Why is it, when doing online searches for Female Friends, you get directed to dating sites?!

Ridiculous, repetitive and annoying.

Someone legitimately looking for friendships, community support, etc.

Peace

Yvette

Depression, The Struggle

As I struggle (emotionally) everyday, I keep hearing those words said to me, a couple of weeks ago.

“I don’t get (it) depression.”

[It was like having my feelings dismissed]

I make myself busy (forcing myself to do something, besides lie in bed and isolate)

I feel better. A few minutes later, I feel sadness.

It reminds me to, take my meds.

I get back to doing.

I feel better. A few minutes later, I feel sadness.

Again, I get back to, doing and thinking.

Thinking about why I’m feeling sensitive, agitated, etc.

Could it be me.

And I (and my therapist) concluded that,

It ain’t me.

So I continue, doing.

I feel better and sad again.

Because I’m reminded of how people with Cancer or Heart disease, provoke sympathy and support.

And depression, provokes what it does (“I don’t get depression”)

Depression has been a life long struggle.

And as I have no control over this, I have learned how to manage it.

[having had suicidal thoughts, all my life]

It’s like being gay (!)

Depression.

Who would, Choose it?

Being Black

or

White.

Life.

Who chose, It?

Yvette

Talk

I never been one for, small talk.

For the most part, I speak to express my feelings.

[Something that took, recovery and years of therapy]

Why I think I listen, with a compassionate ear.

But what warrants a, turned up mouth or rolling eyes, when one speaks?

Some say they care.

It seems true.

Long enough to have their wants or needs, satisfied.

So, don’t ask me why, when I become silent.

Remember, I spoke.

You didn’t listen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is it me, Or am I expecting too much?

Why can’t people be honest?

I want to first say, I recognize it could be me.

[Over sensitive, expectations, etc]

But, Is it really unrealistic, to expect people to be honest?

For many reasons, I had cause to be untrusting.

In spite of this, I am honest and open.

And I expect, the same.

Why can’t people be, as honest as they pretend to be?

It (lying) seems so unnecessary.

Signed, Seeker of true friendship.

Yvette

PS For this and other reasons, I wish I were, Elsie Eiler!

The Lonely Lesbie

I hoped I would miss you, less and less over time.

It’s been two years.

Two years since I’ve seen you or heard your voice.

I did all I could, to get you out of my system.

It worked, for a bit.

But then, I had a moment.

And I text you.

Desperate, for even one of your, one worded responses.

I think of the good.

The weekend get aways to “The Room”

The road trips.

To Virginia, Pennsylvania. Martha’s Vineyard.

And the, not so good.

Him. Us and him again.

Still, I love you, as much as I did, the first time I met you.

Because, Whatever we were,

You were always, straight with me.

I miss you, immensely.

Yvette

Chain of Events

Yesterday, Having spent, most of the day with her. I tell Rev, I’d see her, for sure, Sunday.

She had picked me up and had driven, through three or four counties. But she asks me, if I was up to visiting, our friend in Mt. Airy.  Another, in the hospital.

[Ever mindful of my issues, with fatigue. She was the one, to put into words, procisely how I felt]

Today, Saturday. I got up late (for me) around eight a.m.

I was anticipating a friend’s arrival. One who was kind enough to bring me items, I had stored at theirs.

For years!

[How blessed am I, to have people like this, in my life]

One thing, leads to another.

I start to clear space for the things that she’s bringing.

And cleaning up and doing laundry.

I’m exhausted and my back hurts.

[Bipolar, Mania forces me to work, to exhaustion. Or until my back gives out. But, what do you do with the brain? It won’t stop thinking, won’t rest?]

I have my last load in the dryer.

I think of my dad, As I make my bed.

As I fold, Two extra blankets.

I smile. Because my dad, is a bed hog!

I think about some of the things we laughed about, the last time he was here.

I told him, he had eaten all his candy.

He says “I don’t remember eating it”

I then say “Because you don’t remember, doesn’t mean, you didn’t eat it”

And we laughed.

[I no longer worry, that he forgets…that he may forget me]

He said another time “I don’t remember”

I said ” And that’s alright, Right Daddy?

He said “That’s right baby”

Blessings!

Yvette

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When does it end?

How long will this be? I miss you so much, I’m finding it difficult, to think about anything but you. I know (among other reasons) why.

I woke up, having had, dreamt about you.

You were a mix of two maybe three people, I found attractive. You of course being,

the primary one.

[we were intimately compatible, from beginning to end]

My dream the reminder, the reason, I can’t focus on anything else.

And why not? We were together,  for fifteen years.

And your birthday just past in January.

Another next month. March.

The other reminder that, someone else I love and miss, is also out of my life.

Something, I never imagined.

All of me hurts, this time of year.

When I love,

I love, All of You.

Yvette

Fifteen years

I never wanted my fifteen year relationship to end. I would still be in it, had I not start loving myself. I appreciate the benefits of both, a relationship and being single.

It’ll be two years, the sixth of this month. The day I decided to engross myself, into something, that would take my mind off of you.

Two years later, I’m healthier (for the most part) confirming that, that

was the right decision.

But still, I miss you. And love you, as much as I did, the first time I met you.

I think of you, when I see couples.

Or Singles.

And why wouldn’t this be?

It was thirty years ago, that we met.

[You didn’t know it, but it was then that, I had a crush on you]

We would meet again, in fifteen years.

And it wasn’t until today, I realized.

Fifteen years (two years ago) marked the anniversary of our “Involvement.”

And the ending of it.

I regret neither.

I just wish I could stop, thinking about you.

And wanting you.

I know it will take time.

I just hope it doesn’t take

fifteen years!

For the first time in my life

For the first time in my life, I feel comfortable in my skin.

All my life I said, I was comfortable, with who I was.

But it wasn’t until this very moment, that I realized,

that I was never, really me.

Rape never really allowed me, to be me.

Rape forced me to hide behind, a masculine facade.

I used to mimic my dads walk. [Atleast I did, in my head]

It forced me into a lifestyle, I don’t know that, I would have chosen.

Rape has effected every part of my life. It’s the source of my PTSD diagnosis, my depression…bipolar.

The reason, at age 12, I attempted suicide, started cutting myself and did more things,

you weren’t supposed to do, before age 21….yep, that too!

I talk about this because I must.

We have to PREVENT this from continuing!

[How many of you, are reading this now, who have been affected in the same way, suffer with mental illness and have had some kind of drug or alcohol addiction, like me?]

I was born to a mentally ill mother, who was born to, a mentally ill mother.

[I don’t know how you get someone, who has mental illness, to get help, if they don’t recognize that they’re ill. My mother and I both sought treatment.

[And how do you protect children, from a parent, with mentals illnesses?]

[I can’t remember the name of the couple, that attended to our wounds during the abuse. But the husband reminded me of Fred, from the, I Love Lucy show. It seems I may have called him, Uncle Paul. And I remember his wife being, Wilma like, from The Flintstones]

I associate a lot of things with, TV, radio characters. Does anybody else?

There was history of alcoholism. On both sides.

Mother, father.

Both mothers, child abusers.

I won’t tell you all the things, that led up to me getting raped.

But, once I was awaken as a child, by a gray haired old man, hovering over me, in his boxers.

Another time, awaken to an adult molesting me.

A year later,  raped.

[be careful, who you choose to live with, when you have children]

I drank and smoked with my mother…..yep, that too!

As a child, I wasn’t verbal. I acted out. I got angry, I walked.

[I wrote down my feelings. How is someone expressing themselves to you?]

Rape, had me not writing, not even the word.

Nobody talks about it.

The media treats it, as a blurp.

Hollywood profits off it.

[Makes me wonder, how many of them picture makers, are rapist]

Nobody talks about it, because it’s a nasty, filthy, inhumane act.

We each had different circumstances.

I recently heard, a Dick Gregory quote,

“Stay woke”

Again, For the first time in my life, I feel feminine and comfortable in my body.

For the first time, in my life, I feel like a woman!

Note: I’m a bit manic. I sometimes change topics. But, will share, when I feel it is important.

Peace

Suicide

As I read, Nicolemoncada’s blog (Bipolar Tapestry~PoeticThoughts) it made me aware of how often I think of death. Mine.

I also recognized, my view of suicide has changed.

When the media spoke of Robin Willam’s death and didn’t say suicide, it bothered me.

Because to me, omitting it, meant he died naturally, nobly.

And I thought suicide was cowardice.

But as I struggle daily, to find reasons to live, I understand why a person could make that choice.

And I understand why Nicole used the word, courage (you have to be me, etc).

Because, it’s fear, that I live today…fear I would survive the attempt.

And, I wouldn’t want to put my dad through that kind of pain.

I wish I felt more alive.

I feel like, I’m way past my expiration date.

And I wish I could just say “When” and that, would be that.

Because what is life, without quality?