Up Close And Personal

I keep them at a distance,
I don’t get hurt that way,
If you let them in your heart,
They’re going to leave one day.

I didn’t have a choice back then,
She was always in my face,
I had no time, of my own,
Or my own private space.

Nothing was ever done just right,
Not a thing got past her eye,
Poking in my private stuff,
At times I thought I’d just die.

Try to keep it hidden,
You know you have done wrong,
She’d always find out in some way,
It never took her long.

Pride

Pride.

Not a part of my life.

Not in my vocabulary.

I wasn’t allowed to feel any of it.

That makes me sad.

It was stolen away before I even knew it existed.

I only felt shame.

I knew that everyone must be able to see it.

I played clarinet in the band.

Not a worthy accomplishment.

I had no friends.

I must have worn my heart on my sleeve.

Pride,

No pride.

~ van ~

Home

What makes a home?
Is it a house?
I live alone,
Quiet as a mouse.

Moved here a month ago,
But still I cannot find,
Does anyone ever go?
I think I’m losing my mind.

My heart is sad,
My head hangs low,
I know it was real bad,
A long, long, time ago.

Don’t do this, don’t do that,
Don’t eat that, it’ll make you fat,
Sit up straight, tie your shoes,
In those days I had nothing to lose.

Things are not the same today,
I don’t do things in my olden ways,
Now, I’m out and own my own,
But is this ever, really a home?

Winter And Fear

I’m not too fond of winter these days, for many reasons. My body can’t regulate it’s core temperature, so I can’t be out in the cold for long. I get around in a wheelchair and do not have a vehicle of my own. Therefore, I must rely on public transportation that is door to door, which can cost as much as $5 each way.

The wheelchairs that I use are not snow friendly at all. I can’t move around in snow at all with the manual chair. I can move around in my power chair, but it slides on ice and can lose traction in the snow. Therefore, I’m not too fond of winter, though I do like to take winter photos.

Many years ago, and I mean MANY, when I was a child, winter was fun, except when it snowed so much that school was closed. That meant that I had to stay home and suffer through whatever mood my mother might be in.

When it snowed, we wanted to go out and play in the snow. We lived out in the country, on two acres of land that had a bit of a slant. That made for excellent sledding. Sometimes it was so good we might not stop in time and either run into the trees on the edge of the yard, or go between them and right out onto the road.

The problem, though, was that whenever we wanted to go outside, we had to ask permission first. For me, this was a scary action. I was always afraid of my mother. Living like this caused great anxiety, GERD, and other behaviors such as theft and arson. Yes, you read that correctly – arson. There was also other behavior problems but I’m not going to go into them here. That is for another post.

If she was in a bad mood, she would not allow us to go outside to play. This doesn’t make any sense, as that meant we were trapped inside with her, and subject to her moods if we played too loudly, or ran in the house.

If she was in a good mood, she would let us go out, but only after bundling up in so much winter clothing, we could barely move. But once we got outside, it was great. We would slide down the hill if the snow was right. We would build snow forts and fire snow balls at one another. We also dug tunnels and caves in the snow that piled up high from the driveway being plowed. This was one of my most favorite activities, and one of my fondest memories. When we were cold and wet enough we went back inside.

I had an escape route that could take me away from my mother’s moods. When I started learning to read, I was hungry for more and more books to read. Once I was older, I could spend and entire day, in my room, reading books that I brought home from the school library.

Reading was an activity that grew with me, and stayed with me, until I got sick and my cognitive abilities and memory were very poor. Due to a lack of concentration, I could never stick with a book long enough to read it and enjoy it. To this day, I have several books around my apartment, with bookmarks in them, never to be picked up again.

This was a sad turn of events for me, but my appetite for the Internet turned into an obsession, and it still controls me to this day. I just switched from one kind of control (my mother) to the Internet, to which I can honestly say I am addicted to. It controls me by causing me to miss medication doses, ignore the TV entirely, and even forgo meals.

I have to admit that I’m not even trying to break this form of control. It’s my only opening to the outside world, where I can go wherever I want, whenever I want.

It makes me feel that I am finally in control.

Yet Another Day

There is more to do than sit and sleep,
I have some goals I need to keep,
Look for ways I can do more,
Remember to go to the store.
Sometimes, my memory escapes me,
I wonder what it is that others see,
When I stop dead still in the room,
Peering around in the impending gloom.
Sit back down and read some more,
Oh wait, I was going to the store,
I was going to go for a ride,
Go for one which will increase my pride.
The more I go, the better I get,
The more I go, the less I forget,
The more I go, another step near,
The more I go, not bringing up the rear.
I must push myself to make me strong,
In this I see there’s nothing wrong,
But I know, that step I have to take,
Is definitely not a piece of cake.

What Is A Mother?

A mother is someone who bore you with love,
My mother was none of the above.

A mother is one who takes care of you,
My mother had more important things to do.

A mother is one who watches you grow,
My mother didn’t even want to know.

A mother is one who cures you ills,
My mother thought you had to have chills.

A mother sits with you when you are sick,
My mother was more of a country hick.

A mother is one who will give you a hug,
My mother treated me like a bug.

What is a mother to all of you?
What is a mother, I wish I knew.

Two days from today, my parents would have been married 57 years.  But in the end, disease brought both of them down.  I ran away as soon as I could, to get away from all the abuse.  But already, at the age of 17, I had PTSD.  This led to alcohol, to failure of everything I tried to do with my life, just like my mother predicted.  Now I have a disease she knows nothing about.  This has turned my life around.  I found God.  I found other, hidden health problems.  I found a new way of life.  I found myself.

Forgotten and All Alone

It was only yesterday, waiting to go home,

I realized I’d been forgotten, sitting all alone.

The rain had made me wet,

And I was chilled to the bone.

No, this wasn’t the first time,

That I had been forgotten,

Felt no bigger than a dime,

As rain came down from heaven.

Was this tears, from His eyes?

Or moisture from above?

Just falling from the skies,

And I was all alone.

I wanted to go home,

Where I could be alone,

With my thoughts of doom,

Written as in stone.

It has to be this way!

No, that way’s very wrong,

Can’t do anything right,

The days stretch out too long.

Too much time for me to sit,

Just me here all alone.

Lost in all the thoughts I think,

Forgotten and all alone.

– van –