Thursday, January 18, 2007

dealing

All people everywhere are dealing with all sorts of stuff. Lots of times, people come to group just bursting to write about the stuff they're dealing with. Today was no exception. Here are just two examples of the things on people's minds.

Fault and Forgiveness, by Mavis Wykopf

As a child, I was taught to turn the other cheek. In essence, to forgive. As I grew older, I began to learn about fault. I didn't do it, it's her fault. It's not my fault, it was raining.

As a teenager, whether real or perceived, everything was my fault! My mom was mentally ill due to a car accident and there was no one else around to blame. After a few years of this, I believed it to be true. I walked around on egg shells, I tried my best to be good, I tried to never go anywhere as she would become upset! I lived with the idea that everything was and would remain my fault for the next 30 years.

As an adult, I realized I had given myself a lot of power. Everything is my fault!?! Rain, snow, wind, earthquakes, typhoons, no less!

I am still coming to understand the nature of fault. I now know that everything is not my fault. I feel that I have responsibility for my actions, but there are some things that I have no control over. I want to be angry about having a mentall illness. But I have no control over that. I want to blame myself for not being able to keep a job. That is a big part of my illness and I have no control over that. I want to blame myself for losing my house, because there is no one else to blame.

As an adult witha mental illness, I am coming to understand the nature of forgiveness. The greatest level of that understanding will come when I forgive myself!



Anger, by Myriah

Tonight, I feel angry. Irritated and annoyed. I don't know why because I had a good day. But right now I am pissy. I don't have any direction on what to write about and I'm hungry. I have a dull headache and have been experiencing muscle spasms in my toe all day. I feel like being a bitch! Just find a way to release some of this tension I have. I wish I had a way to do tai-bo.

I'm doing very good at turning my anger into laughter tonight, but I really wish I could just explode! Like I almost want someone to start shit with me just so I can open a can like Jackee Chan! I feel just in being angry. After all, I have a lot to be angry about. But anger is so very touchy with me. Very sensitive territory. I can't be just angry about everything. Because I know that anger is a secondary emotion -- always blanketing something deeper. Blah, blah, blah!

I don't want to know what's underneath my anger! I just want to be pissy and have that be okay! But again, I must be careful. I'm not like other people and I know that. I am aware of how dangerous unresolved anger is for me. I have not forgotten about the creature I became when anger was my name.

when first they met

One of our writing group participants, in her own time, likes to write romances. Tonight she wrote a quick one for group and here it is.

The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship, by Dilly Scott

He was as handsome as the car he drove, a 1971 Ford Mustang with 409 horse power, the color was a shiny, candy apple red. He found her buying a painting, two mugs, a thermos, and a huge stuffed animal at the beach. He bought her a couple pieces of seafoam candy and she bought him a fish dinner. They walked along a mile and a half distance path and he showed her a bird's nest. She picked up a stray feather and he put it in her hair. They rode all the carnival rides and fell in love over a boat ride the next day. They were married just before the fourth of July and raised two kids, two nephews, four cats, three dogs and a skunk.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

inspirational

Sometimes, regardless of my cool writing ideas, folks come to group with lots of great ideas of their own. Tonight, three different people wrote three different, remarkable pieces about their own lives and experiences, and here they are.

Dead or Alive, by Mavis Wykopf

This week I had the unique experience of having to prove that I am alive! The situation was no doubt unusual, but it caused me to stop and ponder the essence of my existence.

What does it mean to be alive? I think mankind has been perplexed by that very question since the dawn of time.

Alive, of course, means breathing, having a heartbeat, blood coursing through veins, brain activity, etc. I feel being "alive" is much more than that. There should be feelings and beauty and friendship and love! When we as beings are deprived of these things, whether by internal or external forces, our sense of being can be altered and consequently our perception of life and death can be skewed. Life being a gift can seem more like a curse. Death being the end can seem more like a new beginning.

I have a somewhat unique perspective on the issue of life and death. I once enjoyed my life and lived it to the fullest. I then began to question whether life was a gift or not. I fell so far down in the pit of despair that I attempted to take my own life. I truly believed death would be a new beginning.

I am still struggling with the concept of life being a gift. I have lost so much. There is still so much pain and guilt and regret. Every day is a test that I feel I am failing. I hope to succeed one day but that day feels very far away.

I am breathing. I have a heartbeat. I have blood coursing through my veins. By definition, I am alive. Some days it's not so clear.



My Name is Meth, by Myriah

My name is Meth. I destroy homes and tear families apart.
I'll take your children and that's just the start.
I'm more costly than diamonds, more precious than gold;
the sorrow I bring is one to behold.
If you need me, remember, I'm easily found.
I live all around you -- in schools and in town.
I live with the rich, I live with the poor,
I live down the street and maybe next door.
I'm made in a lab, but not like you think.
I can be made right under the sink,
in your child's closet or even the woods.
If this scares you to death, well it certainly should.
I have many names, but there's one you know best;
I'm sure you have heard of me, my name is Crystal Meth.
My power is awesome, just try me, you'll see.
Once you do, you'll never break free.
Just try me once and I might let you go.
"Try" me too often and I'll own your soul.
When I possess you, you'll steal and you'll lie.
You'll do what you have to just to get high.
The crimes you commit for my narcotic charms,
will be worth the pleasure you'll feel in your arms.
You'll lie to your mother and steal from your dad.
When you see their tears, you should feel really sad.
But you'll forget your morals and how you were raised.
I'll be your conscience, I'll teach you my ways.
I take kids from parents and parents from kids.
I turn people from God and separate friends.
I'll take everything from you -- your looks and your pride;
I'll be with you always, right by your side.
You'll give up everything, your family, your home,
your friends, your money, then you'll be alone.
I'll take and I'll take 'til you have nothing to give.
When I'm finished with you, you'll be lucky to live.
If you try me, be warned: this is no game.
If given the chance, I'll drive you insane.
I'll ravish your body and control your mind.
I'll own you completely, your soul will be mine.
I'll give you nightmares while lying in bed
and you will hear voices from inside your head.
The sweats, the shakes, the visions you'll see --
I just want you to know, these are all gifts from me.
You knew this would happen. Many times you were told.
But you challenged my power, you chose to be bold.
You could have said "no" and just walked away.
If you could live that day over, now what would you say?
Now that you've met me, what will you do?
Will you try me or not? It's all up to you.
I can bring you more misery than any words can tell.
Come. Take my hand. Let me lead you to Hell.



Letting My Guard Down, by Ramona

Talked to J today. It was my second time to talk to him. Because I want so much to get all the help I can, to see some kind of life in the future, and start having feelings of caring about myself. I want to be able to feel again. I want to be able to be happy and active and caring and not be so defensive whenever anyone talks to me or asks me questions. I feel people don't care, they just want to get enough information about me so they can use it to hurt me or manipulate me. I am hurting, scared, and confused and I have to learn to let my guard down with certain people, to be able to trust those who are here to really help me, and be there to help me understand some of my feelings. I want to see a light at the end of the darkness. I don't know, I just want to be able to feel joy, happiness, security. And it's hard to do when I don't let my guard down because I feel everyone is out there to get me, hurt me... I don't know... I'm still fighting.

arguments

Sometimes I think up really awesome ideas for writing group prompts. Tonight, for example, I suggested that people think back to a really bad argument they've had in the past, and imagine how it could've gone differently. Then I suggested they rewrite their argument and make it come out like they wished it had. I thought it was a good idea. But everybody just frowned at me. Oh well. I thought it was a total failure, but it at least gave one person an idea. Here's what she wrote.

Cloud of Dust, by Dilly Scott

Dilly was angry. The "Schloss Queen" had had the nerve to show up at her door. She'd lost her temper and called her a dishwater blonde and a "camp follower." "And I hope that's all you get." Dilly regretted saying it, but she couldn't shake the camp follower so she made plans for more and took a class in independent trucking and became the swamper to a guy who believed in coffee and pineapple but not condominiums or having gastronomical problems from eating chili and sweet and sour chicken in one day. He taught her all kinds of security measures and cherished her, helped the fruit growers, the dolphins, seals and fishermen.

Dilly sent her a Bible and candy at her aunt's house and apologized. As she was leaving town there was a notice with a job for a potato truck driver -- "Meet me in church." They transported precious cargo of Bibles, Torahs, and book marks. The summer rally left the Schloss Queen in a cloud of dust but the barbeque was tremendous and the music awe inspiring.

Thursday, January 04, 2007

knights in shining armour

I Love Him Still, By Dilly Scott

I love him still, in his shredded tuxedo or his lovely blue shirt. Wearing his armour or not. He's still my knight. I never wanted to share him, just tell someone how absolutely knight-like he was.

Him being unhappy or hurt was not to be thought of. He reminded me of a giant panda, a knight out of a book, the statue of liberty.

He made me squeak, he wasn't just admired. I'm still a silly widgeon. I don't want to change but summer will be here before long!!!!

loss

Here's a sweet rumination on the early loss of a loved one.

For Jewels, by Myriah

Each one of us is here
for just a short precious time.
The quest for life's purpose
can have no reason and no rhyme.
Some place possessions
first in excess.
They think having more
will make you "more" of a success.
Others long for pleasure to
Somehow feel good --
And they end up doing things
they never wished they would.
Some will seek and strive
for that ever elusive fame,
but where are all the accolades
when the neon fades from your name?
There are those who seek to out-do all
to be better than the rest.
But always being number one,
doesn't mean you've passed the test.
Even having perfect children,
who never let you down,
might be a feather in your cap
but it won't change the town.
There is much about this life
that we do not understand --
And sometimes all we can do
is reach out for someone's hand.
When those dark days come
knocking on your door,
it won't matter if you're famous,
uknown, rich or poor.
Good friends are hard to come by,
true friends even harder yet;
But if you can find just one in life,
I bet you'll be glad you met.
When all is said and done and
it's time for us to go --
It isn't what you have,
it's all in who you know.