Move Away I Fear To Hear

The pain I carry in my heart
Was always there, from the start
Why can’t I get him outta my head
Fourteen years now, he’s been dead

I thought that death would be the end
I might see more around that bend
All this time I couldn’t see
How tough survival could really be

They are not telling me I can be free
To live my life as I should think it’d be
Prepare to get my ducks in a row
The day will come when I must go.

I can be taken care of when I’m there
Fewer mistakes that I don’t care
To live such life out of this place
I don’t think I can keep the pace

No friends around me any more
Can’t make my way to the grocery story
Having to rely on family
Is not the way my life should be

Keep only things that I can use
Without my problems to cause abuse
Good bye my friends, all whom I love
I’ll see you again in the realm above

Private Hell

I see the pills I take each day
To help myself, I live that way
In a cloud of many pills
Supposed to take away my ills

If I had to count them all
Even ones for when I fall
Add to them a shot each day
If I stopped what would they say

Blood pressure, depression, and anxiety
Are only part of what you see
Behind closed doors, I struggle more
Much more than I ever did before

I wonder what would kill me first
I think of my unending thirst
Take this one to stop the side effects
I never know what’s coming next,

I see you just outside my door
Coming here, I know not what for
Why do I hide, behind my door
Help me please find out what for

The shadows behind all these doors
More pills, they say will help me more
Do this or not I will not tell
Sitting here in my private hell

The Lake So Deep

I feel deserted, no one is there

Getting used to having no one care

No one knows the depth of my fear

Maybe that’s why they don’t come near


I used to drive them all away

Know there’s nothing I can say

See me here in deep despair

Has me pulling out my hair


They all laugh as though they see

The misery deep inside of me

It’s getting to be easier to take

No longer crying to fill a lake


That lake, I know it is quite deep

And there is where my secrets keep

The way he came, caused me fear

Every time I felt him near


⊗ van ⊗

Sitting In The Airport

Early this morning I sat in wait,
Praying the shuttle would not be late
But imagine my surprise
We left late for the friendly skies

Image result for airplaneIt was the plane that was too late
And very slow getting my chair to the gate 
Carry me on the bus by hand
My chair too much for just one man


Now headed north to catch my van
I wish I could’ve got up and ran
I missed my bus, I was quite late
But still I had no time to wait

Image result for wheelchairBut my chair did not come
I wished I had some chewing gum 
To help to ease the growing stress
It was not meant to be, I guess

Buy the ticket, two dollars short
All my planning was for naught
The next bus to take, to get up there
Was not equipped to take my chair

At the bus I came undone Image result for shuttle bus
My plans again, they were not fun  
Got to the gate to catch my van
I’ll push that bus if I can

Carry me on the bus by hand
My chair too much for just one man
Now headed north to catch my van
I wish I could’ve got up and ran

If my next stop, I am too late
Lord only knows what’ll be my fate
Tried to call them on my phone
So maybe I could get back home

angerMy voice alone was not enough 
Then things got really tough
Now the rain is coming down
This trip is causing me to frown



I will not take this trip again
Travel again? I know not when
This trip has cost me so much more
Than what I thought, was in store.

Image result for wheelchair At the stop, to my surprise
I really could not believe my eyes
My ride was still awaiting there
Travel again? With my manual chair!

Oh No, She Saw Me

Taboo Word  9/13/16

When I was seen, I wasn’t in a good place.  But I’m already getting ahead of myself.  I have two brothers, both younger than myself.  Every time we went to a store with my mother, my brothers and I were in competition with each other, to see who could bring home the best, and the most stuff – without paying for it.

There was a little variety store in a town near us, and my mother went there often, though I don’t know why.  I cannot remember a single thing that she would bring home from the store.  Now this store was your typical five and dime store.  After you came in the door, straight ahead of you was the cashier, and an aisle went down each side of the store.  There was a break between the two aisles, and after the break, on the left side, was where the toys were on display.

It was like heaven to us, when we were younger, and if my mother bought us anything, it was a rare occasion.  But we always came home with more than what my mother actually paid.  Where we hid things, I have no idea.  When we got home, we would gather in my room (Why was it always MY room?), and compare the things that we each brought home.  Back then, we didn’t think about the fact that we were stealing something.  We were just having some fun, and bringing home stuff was like a game to us.

In another town about 12 miles away was famous baseball museum, and playing field as well.  But I couldn’t tell you, to save my life now, the name of that baseball field.  But the National Hall of Fame Game is played there every year.  During the summer, we would go up and down the street, just trying to find a parking space.  This was difficult during the summer, because there were so many tourists, they just clogged up the entire street from end to end.

About midway down the street, there was a department store, and it even had stairs down to a lever level.  The lower level was where the 45 rpm records were available.  The paperback books were also down on that level.  At that time, I was an avid reader, and would devour two to three books a week.  It was hard to find books that I was interested in, so it took me some time, browsing through the books, trying to find a couple that I hadn’t already read, or even wanted to read.  It was also the same while hunting through the records.  There seemed to be so many popular songs during the 70’s, it was difficult to make your selections.  When my mother came to round us up, our ‘treasure hunting’ for that visit was over.

One afternoon, the fatal afternoon, the inevitable happened.  I had collected a variety of things, including books and records.  I went back upstairs to find my mother, as it was the end of summer and my mother was buying our new school clothes.  A friend of the family worked in that store.  On this memorable evening, I eventually noticed that she was trailing me around the store.  She was onto me!  What do I do?  I moved around, trying to find a place to hide and ditch everything I had on me.  If I didn’t have anything on me, I wouldn’t get into trouble.  Right?  Wrong, very wrong.  I managed to get a stack of cartons between me and this woman, and I pulled everything out from under my shirt, and there she was.  “No, no, no you can’t do that.  She collared me and dragged me off to the manager’s office.  They then paged my mother, and my heart sank lower than my heels, I think.

When my mother showed up, they told her I had been caught shoplifting, and I was not allowed in that store alone again.  You would have thought she was the one who had been caught.  She took my shoplifting personally.  My mother was a narcissist, and everything was about her, and how she was affected by such affronts.  She hustled us out the back door, after buying her purchases.  After that night, though, I was the one who felt embarrassed.  As soon as we entered the store, even while staying right at my mother’s side, the manager would follow us all around the store, every time we stopped to look at something, he stopped and waited,

I did learn my lesson, although I don’t know if my brothers did.  I never took a thing after that night, either something in a store, nor from anyone else.  After coming to know more of the Bible, I had an even stronger determination to taking anything, ever.  If I found something that someone had obviously forgotten, or dropped, if there was no one there to turn it over to, I left it right where I found it.  I would expect the same in return.  That way, I would find my lost item, and stop being in panic mode, looking everywhere.

The moral of the story?  I learned to never again shoplift or otherwise take something that did not belong to me.  I couldn’t embarrass my mother like that again.  I was always the one to pay the price, actually about three times the price, by being subjected to my mothers narcissism.  I was going to try to avoid that, at all costs.

In case you haven’t figured it by now, this post was written without using the taboo word of the day.

You can see today’s taboo word below. Visit Eric, author of the All In A Dad’s Work blog and creator of the challenge, for details on participating.


Click the blue frog to read others taking part in this fun challenge 



Inside My Head

Taboo Word – 9/5/16

Things are rattling inside my head
All the things were never said
But now they’re ready to come out
And shock us all without a doubt.

Even I do not know when
I’ll be ready for this again
I cannot do this all by myself
It will end up on a shelf

Listen close and learn to hear
All things I’ve kept due to fear
Here today I’ve set a goal
Reaching deep inside my soul

I must do this, but no, not fast
Or this chance will not last
Talk, no write it all right down
Before the thoughts do make me frown

Alas, I think, the time slipped by
I cannot say it, I know not why
So what it is I’ll do instead
Keep it tightly in my head

You can see today’s taboo word below. Visit Eric, author of the All In A Dad’s Work blog and creator of the challenge, for details on participating.



Click the blue frog to read others taking part in this fun challenge

Wearing A Face Kept In A Jar By The Door

English: Child in Tiger face paint
English: Child in Tiger face paint (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This so describes me totally.  When I’m at home, I don’t need that face, for there is no one to look at me, except for my cat Mittens.  All those feelings that are roiling around inside of me are there for no one to see.

When it is time to go out, I take the face out of the jar, and wear that one over my real one.  No one then can see the pain, anger, sadness, sometimes rage, and fear, that I feel but are not visible.

What if someone saw the real face?  Would they go running, scared?  I think I would.  When it’s in the jar, I only look in the mirror to brush my hair.  I don’t even want me to see that face.

It would make me very, very sad, but then, I’m already sad.

~ van ~

I Am A Winner!

Throughout the years of childhood abuse
They made me feel there was no use
Through all those years of constant strife
I could not live my very own life

A children’s view of this time
I never had a thing that was mine
Hand me downs from those of old
No longer did keep out the cold

The home itself was cold as well
Living there, I went through hell
They taught me when I moved a way
That others still had their say

In how my life to be controlled
Again I lived in that cold
Afraid to peek out of the hole
Burrowed deep within my soul

Now I live here on my own
My body now is fully grown
But carries all the scars I earned
That taught me I had never learned

But down the hole, did I fall?
Little by little I changed it all
Every night I sit for dinner
Another day  I am a winner

Anger!! Who’s Really To Blame?

I would like to tell you I had an emotional week.  I wanted to get mad at everyone, due to my forgetting to schedule wheelchair transportation for an appointment Wednesday morning.  I assumed they were picking me up at 10:15, for an 11:00 appointment.

At 10:00, I started questioning whether I had scheduled the transportation, and finally called to see if they had me on the schedule that day.  They did not.  First, I wanted to blow up at them (Really??).  Then, I called my therapist to cancel the appointment, why, and asked that she called me back.  I wanted to keep calling her, until she answered the phone and I could vent my anger and frustration (Why??).

Image result for Anger
Photo: Google Images

When she finally called me back, I explained what happened and she asked if I would like to reschedule (Ya think??).  We made another appointment, and then I wanted to vent at her again, because the appointment was not for another two weeks (??).

After hanging up the phone, I sat here and I realized that the person I was really angry at was myself.  I had screwed up, forgot to schedule transportation, and I missed my appointment.  Did I really expect her to rearrange her entire schedule, to get me in earlier?  No.

Photo: Karen Van Benschoten

I have MS.  I have mild cognitive impairment and some memory loss.  I know this, and I know that if I don’t put extra reminders in place, I may very well forget something.

 I wanted to blame my aide, as every time she arrives, she usually takes out my planner, checks for any appointments that she hasn’t already written on the (very) large, dry erase calendar, that hangs on the wall above my wheelchair desk.  She asks if I have transportation.  I call and make arrangements.  Once I’ve done that, I put a check mark next to the appointment in my planner.  But not this week.  I don’t think I gave a single thought to that appointment, and usually I never forget that particular appointment.

But who should I be mad at about it?  No one.  Not even myself.  Everyone makes mistakes, and I can’t be mad  because I made a mistake.

Image result for Netflix
Photo: Google Images

So I played Sudoku and then watched more episodes of “The Fosters.”  Really like this show.  Whatever did I watch before Netflix??


BPD – What It Means For Me

I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder many years ago, and have been taking pretty much the same medications over this time. I have BPD. I know I have it. I recognize the symptoms when they get worse. I wouldn’t dream of stopping them, for fear of the consequences.

It has long been thought that BPD was caused by abuse as a child, or some other horrendous trauma experienced when young. It has been brought to my attention that in order for someone to develop BPD, there has to be one or both parents who suffer from this disorder. This disorder is passed on genetically.

Without the genetics, BPD does not occur, despite popular belief, because of chronic abuse as a child, alone. The gene must also be present. I realized a couple years ago, that my mother must have had the same disorder. Based on the way that she treated me, along with the sexual abuse from my father, I developed BPD.

There has to be at least five symptoms a person must have to be diagnosed with this disorder.

  1. Unstable or poorly regulated emotional responses – anger, anxiety, depression
  2. Inappropriate intense anger that is difficult to control
  3. Chronic feelings of emptiness
  4. Self-damaging acts such as excessive spending, unsafe sex, substance abuse, binge eating, and
  5. Suicidal ideation, acts, threats, self-injurious behavior
  6. Persistent, unstable self-image
  7. Paranoid ideation or severe dissociative episodes
  8. behaviors from most people, impaired social reasoning under stress
  9. Frantic acts due to chronic fear of abandonment, very intense and unstable relationships

To be diagnosed with BPD, five of these nine symptoms must be present.  When I finally learned about Borderline Personality Disorder, it was sort of an ‘aha’ moment.  Now, things that I feel or do, I understand why.  I suffer from eight of these nine symptoms.

I understand why I will do almost anything to prevent what I perceive as abandonment.  I understand why all of my relationships were either inappropriate, extremely intense and unstable.  I understand why I have a great deal of new debt, that has occurred after the agreement with the debt management program,  that I would not apply for anymore credit cards, and this new debt is due to three  new credit cards.  I understand why I became a chronic alcoholic (Nearly 17 years sober now).  I understand the cuts on my arms, the overdoses, and all the threats of suicide, and all of the psychiatric hospitalizations.

I understand now, why I am me, and why I still do many of the things on that list.  Do you now understand me?