Fowl Tea

Reliving Nightmares & Visiting Demons....

2011-04-21T11:14:00.000-07:00

The other day as I was perusing a favorite Re-sellit shop, I happened onto a child's toy. It was innocent enough in it's simplicity, just rock it back and forth in your hand thereby causing a whirling disc to slide up and down it's little wire rails... it was like someone kicked me in the uterus! At first I could not stop twirling it...then I was repulsed...then I contemplated buying it...what? are you frking nutz? I almost threw it down as I retreated to the back of the store to compose myself, I actually almost started crying like a baby! I had to stomp my foot to cause myself pain to take my mind off of it! The memories stay with me always, I tuck them away like little facts I have written on a scrap of paper, I can't remember a lot of details, I was Very Young, but what I do remember is branded like a scar in my minds eye; I can NEVER Forget certain Details...now I want to write it down! These are scraps of feelings, unreal to my flesh now, even though some smells will make some flashes. Of course, those are really all I remember anyway, those little snippets, like super fast shots from some movie trailer, where they tease you with what lies between... Do I forget because I was young, too young to make the right connections to form those memories, or, is it because I really do not want to remember? I know, that even right now, I still do what ever I need to squelch the pain of life? I read a scientific study about how selective memory helps you endure...

Widow's Ranch...I call it the "Widow's Ranch" because that is the branding it has in my mind. My Dad called it that and I remember him talking about her, telling her story... "her husband had died, so now she "took in" kids for working folks to earn extra money". Some of the kids, like me, stayed there all week long, sleeping in a "Bunk house", eating "Farmhouse Style". My Dad came to pick me up Friday night, after his work week ended, then bringing me back to drop me off Early Monday morning. Most of the kids though only came during the day, this is the origins of the "Daycare", early 60's. There was a lot of displaced children in those times for the first time due to women's changing positions in our society. Divorce, work and just single parent issues galore! Then, the Widow herself had a few of her own, I'm not sure how many, but at least 8-10! Altogether I am guessing there was at least 25 but I'm sure sometimes more. There was about 14-16 living there, a few 'Boarders" like me, the rest her own. I know at least 2 of the most evil of them were her own boys, about 13-14 +/- a year. They were the Leaders, the "Shot Callers! Horrible beasts, one larger than the other by far was the less evil of the 2, but not by much, he just didn't hurt as bad as he COULD have if he wanted to is about it. The smaller one liked to inflict pain and did so often, whenever and wherever he could. I learned to stay as far away from him as I could!

I had just turned four when I first started going to the ranch, too young for school or to stay on my own. I really do not remember too much about the ranch itself other than it was VERY large, very busy with a lot of animals, kids and people. There were a lot of "out" buildings like barns, sheds and an old bunkhouse, dilapidated but still used by farmhands and as spare rooms for the Older kids!

I watch this in my mind like one of those old MM Movies where the frames are choppy and shaky... too young, my memories feel disconnected from me, even though the Thoughts are still there, click, fear, click, pain, flick, darkness and shadows, muskiness and stench, freeze, click... I remember seeing another girl brutalized first, while I was held down and forced to watch. The big one held his hand forcefully over my mouth and pinned me down, my arm twisted back so hard and the pain so great I could barely feel pain for what I was seeing... I remember his hot wetness slithering in my ear, hissing in raspy sounds, telling me that if I made any trouble or screamed he would make sure it hurt even more than what I was seeing! I do not remember if it hurt when they were were actually Inside of me, because I was so focused on watching what was happening to the other girl! The smell of the hay and the feel of the Grimy Mattress made out of it was sickening as I watched the older girl struggle, beaten and violated... I didn't even really know that he had done anything to me, all I knew was heaviness and overall pain, I thought I would be crushed, I could not breathe as I watched the other girl bleeding and pleading!! Suddenly I was Yanked up, someone was telling me in a hard and ugly way... to get out and to keep my mouth shut! He said "If you tell anyone, your Daddy is going to think you are dirty and he will never come to pick you up again! He will just leave you here forever!" This was to become the Mantra for the Hit and Pick they made of any of us, ....

After the First time, another girl came to me and talked to me softly, telling me to just be quiet and try to stay out of their way, but never, ever, fight them because they would hurt you really bad! After that, I was only got caught a couple more times, I did not fight, I saw a girl fight and scream, they smothered her with a pillow, I thought they were going to kill her, I just learned how to zone out and pretended to be somewhere else...watching a Beam of light come through a hole in the ceiling I could float away...one of those "places" was where I could go while watching that SAME little toy, my Dad had bought it for me. I tilted it back and forth endlessly, watching it go up and down, never letting it stop, bargaining with God, while I prayed that my Dad was going to pick me up! Was he late because he found out somehow about the "Dirty" games the boys were playing with me? Please God, Let him come for me...don't let him leave me here...whir-whir-whir-whir-whir-whir..........
My Dad suddenly did Not take me back one Day...
I was 4 1/2...
I was Happy, but Destined to Live through more Trials from the Demons of the Flesh...

Spinal Cord Injury...Yep...SCI, It Took Down Superman Too...

2011-04-05T09:04:00.000-07:00

I am a survivor of a traumatic Cervical Spinal Cord Injury. During my ACDF C4-7 / Two vertebrae were removed and a roll-bar implanted and although I miraculously recovered my mobility following the emergency surgery, there are still some serious nerve damage issues. I have been prescribed MANY, MANY drugs, some work, others don't! The bottom line here though is, the HORRENDOUS side effects of these Drugs do not outweigh the meager, at best, benefits from any of them!

I ingest (Tincture) as well as smoke MMJ (can't afford the vaporizer) and although it is NO MAGIC BULLET, it does takes a notch off the edge of the unrelenting Pain and Spasticity! At least enough to make getting around to try to do some things in life less daunting.

Oh, and according to some people, I should be strung up or shot because I will admit that yeah.... I like the "temporary euphoria" too... damn me anyway...should NOT enjoy my medications...

The Cats In My Attic Can Eat The Bats In Your Belfry!

2010-07-07T13:41:00.000-07:00

I suffer from a long line of mental fractures. Things that would point me out as to be sometimes not so normal. I have a vast array of these little "creatures" that make up the Psyche of Who and What I am. "Regular" people have put names to some of them, such as OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, ADD, Attention Deficit Disorder, Bi-Polar (used to be called Manic- Depressive), and PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, just to name the main characters hanging in! I have invented my own analogy, I feel it is a better description that lends itself to more "personality"!

I call them my Cats In The Attic! I know they are there, I even have names for some of them. I know I "feed" them, my warped thinking, inventive ramblings, counting, measuring and random ideas are constantly running, hardly a break, so there is plenty of "fodder" for those damn Cats!

If you or someone you know has any of the aforementioned collection of "Kitties", (OCD, ADD ,BiPo, PTSD, Etc...) it is really hard to tolerate the idiosyncrasies all the time! My Daughter and Grandchildren of course now have the same issues in life and struggle constantly to overcome them. it really is a family affair in the genetics as well as social ramifications that helps to breed these peculiarities!

Part of the struggle is to identify where there is a problem and then learning to handle it and take back the control in a lot of these issues. So to help recognize them I began telling my Daughter, and now my Grand kids, "Okay, so we have taken that Kitty out of the Attic, pet it, loved it, fed it and now it is time to put it back in there!

The difference between having some "Cats in your attic" and "Bats in your belfry" is that YOU control the CATS (by choice), the Bats are in control of YOU (out of control)!

POT / 4.17.10

2010-04-17T12:15:00.000-07:00

Finding Safety:

So Yeah, Suicide Is Like Totally The Down Side Of Being Depressed!

2009-07-20T16:08:00.000-07:00

Killing yourself, probably dwells in the house of "self" for most of humankind during the "Growth Years" from about 13-23. I bet if you took a survey of the stats you could find that most people, probably more females than males have at least "thought" about it to some degree! I believe it goes hand in hand with the realization that this life is only temporary. It feels like, OK, so this life sucks and I want to just be done with it! Or even the old standby "I'll show everyone"! (Uh, yeah, your dead, you showed THEM!) The problem is that for most people that may be seriously chasing this option, there is also a little self preservation mechanism that jumps right into place and usually vanquishes the thoughts! It may even just be the fear of pain that prevents some from following through with morbid thoughts, but once in awhile that just isn't enough. If the time comes that your "perceived" emotional pain is worse than the "quick" pain of death then it becomes a more grandiose idea. It is even easier to convince yourself if you cut yourself off from others, shut them down when they try to help or just turn away without letting anyone try to understand!.

I am a strong believer of the old analogy of "Third time is a charm" and in the case of my own suicide attempts, I would have to say that I believe it even more.

My first theatrical attempt at ending my problems was when I was a mere 14 and I was fresh with wounds from a spurned lover, or rather a vile confrontation with his wife and I wish to leave that story there and suffice to just say I ingested an entire bottle of OTC Sleeping Pills and then called him to come rescue me, which he did and so I was!

The next shot I took at it came after a long depression following a family tragedy culminating with the bitter betrayal of yet another lover to wit I committed a pretty serious attempt with a razor blade. The un-beautiful side of this was that it DID hurt and the blood everywhere was scarier than hell! So once again I allowed myself the rescue drama! I did have to undergo some pretty extensive counseling after that one, seems I went just a little too far for them to comfortably just let it slide. I think I liked the counseling, I did feel better for awhile, but again, life is full of pain.

I do want to interject here that I am fully aware that I have pretty much caused a great deal of my own suffering but knowing that does NOT relieve the crushing, searing pain!

So then, yet again, my life came crashing down on my head after some increasingly bad decision making and I found myself wallowing in the pit of insufferable despair! This time I was just going to will myself to death, after a few days of a hunger strike and acting like a zombie I was drug off to a "facility" where they promptly gave me an overdose of Thorazine! Viola' instant suicide!

Now comes the interesting part... I was drifting away, rising slightly above the scene around me, things looked weird like through a lenses smeared clear only in the center. I was afraid to rise too far and felt compelled to try to hang close to the ground. I started hearing a whispering of several voices that seemed to be beckoning me to come over near a really huge stone wall that appeared to be too tall to even fly over. As I neared the wall I could hear the voices more clearly and they were calling my name, softly and with affection and I was drawn even closer. As I drifted closer I began to feel fearful of the oddly sweet voices and drew more distrustful and wanted to back away, but as I began to pull away I felt wistful tendrals as delicate as smoke, caressing and twinning around my limbs, softly urging me to draw close to the wall again. The murmuring began to sound more like a chant, my name being repeated over and over, but with cojoling interjections too! "C'mon you know it is so nice here, come over here, you'll like it here, we are waiting for you, don't go away, etc..."

At first, I felt complacency and let the soft deicate tendrils carress me and gently guide me towards the wall, but then I realized that the voices were no longer so soft and beautiful but raspy and menacing. Their intensity grew and sounded phlemish like they were almost choking as they called to me. I began to struggle with the invisible bindings and the strenght and grip increased with a stinging and burning sensation that kept growing the more I struggled! I was in shear terror mode now and I tried to scream but something was around my throat and no sound would come out!

As I made contact with the wall I realized that if I went through it I would be dead and suddenly I knew I did NOT WANT TO DIE! I knew then that this was my soul being drug down into HELL and I could feel the evil pulling on me like a huge magnet sucking at steel! If I was pulled through that wall it would be over and I wasn't going without a fight! The screaming and straining went on for what seemed like forever, endless in it's own time frame. I screamed until my body ached with it, pounding like a hammer in my temples, I finally managed a real life scream and someone came to me!

I was awakened in an hospital room with a nurse standing above my head. I was upside down on a rotating table strapped in from all sides! I had almost died she informed me, my blood pressure was so low they had to put me on the inversion table to get blood to my brain, I had been out for 2 days!

Was it real? I don't know for sure, but it is real for me! This is what it took to convince me that I really did not want to die and I have never tried anything that stupid ever again! I just hope that if I write this story maybe someone else will refrain from experiencing this for themselves!

Fowl Tea (What?)

2008-02-15T15:06:00.000-08:00

This is just a spot for me to vent and post little pieces of this and that! Pieces of my thinking, parts of who or what i am. Sometimes I care about what I May or May not say...other times I Don't! Certain people know what FOWL stands for, but other than that, I leave it to your imagination!