This staccato beat of my heart
Feels as foreign to me
As blue roses with green polka dots
What is this strange, off-putting feeling?
It doesn’t appear to be of service …
I can’t think a single coherent thought
My words seem a jumbled mess
At times the air leaves my body
And I’m left like some deer in the headlights
This makes not one bit of sense
I don’t like these sensations
Not one bit
Who would?
Are there really people out there
Who enjoy this invading insecurity?
Are there people who think it is nice?
They’re fools
There is no other explanation
To enjoy this possession,
This debilitating feeling …
Is complete and utter madness.
Written in August of 2010, in conclusion to one of my fanfic stories.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Friday, August 20, 2010
Me and My ADHD
After recent chats with a fanfic-reviewer of mine, I decided to do a note about my ADHD.
She said she'd never met someone who had fun with their ADHD.
I'll preface this note by stating that there are people out there who seriously suffer from this disorder, and have many problems in life because of it.
On that note ... I wouldn't have it any other way. ADHD is a part of me, and I honestly believe that my life would be completely boring without it. I am loud, opinionated, hyper, giggly, angry, protective, defensive, giddy, highly excitable, clumsy, aggressive, and eternally young at heart - and those are just the words to describe my feelings and behavior this morning ... I would not be the person I am today without having Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.
There are many "professionals" in the world, who work very hard to come up with ways to "cure" this disorder. And for some people, I guess they've decided that their life would be better without ADHD. I disagree. I don't think it's something that should be "cured", I think it's something that should be harnessed, and put to good use.
The best example that I can give is my own. Yes, I have the attention problems that come with "Attention Deficit" Hyperactivity Disorder. But has that ever stopped me from doing well in school? No. I love learning, it's fun. But the bonus part about my "attention problems", is that I am constantly searching for something to perk my interest, that I am always learning about new things. Wonderful things, odd things, and useful things. I put these things to use when I write fanfics, poems, short stories, and novels.
I am constantly moving, constantly doing something. I find it funny when people think I just sit on my ass all day watching movies ... would you like to know what else I'm doing? While I'm "sitting my on ass, watching movies", I'm writing, reading, chatting with numerous people, researching facts for my new novel, feeding/watering/playing with my dog, checking my e-mail, updating my facebook/nexopia/evony pages, re-organizing my movies and books, deciding what to make for supper, exercising, and writing down songs that I want to listen to/download. And while doing all of these things, I am actively aware of everything that's happening. I remember everything that I'm doing, I see and remember what it is that I am doing/watching. To those of you who think that people can't multi-task like that ... I say, welcome to the world of ADHD.
My ADHD makes working with children so much more fun. The kids at my practicum love me because I play with them - and KEEP UP with them. I move from one thing to the next at the drop of a hat. And it works. Now, what part of that sounds like a "disorder"? I'd love to know how the ability to do that should be "cured" ...
I honestly hope that I never grow out of my ADHD. I love it, I embrace it ... and I wish there were more people that could have this kind of attitude about it.
She said she'd never met someone who had fun with their ADHD.
I'll preface this note by stating that there are people out there who seriously suffer from this disorder, and have many problems in life because of it.
On that note ... I wouldn't have it any other way. ADHD is a part of me, and I honestly believe that my life would be completely boring without it. I am loud, opinionated, hyper, giggly, angry, protective, defensive, giddy, highly excitable, clumsy, aggressive, and eternally young at heart - and those are just the words to describe my feelings and behavior this morning ... I would not be the person I am today without having Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.
There are many "professionals" in the world, who work very hard to come up with ways to "cure" this disorder. And for some people, I guess they've decided that their life would be better without ADHD. I disagree. I don't think it's something that should be "cured", I think it's something that should be harnessed, and put to good use.
The best example that I can give is my own. Yes, I have the attention problems that come with "Attention Deficit" Hyperactivity Disorder. But has that ever stopped me from doing well in school? No. I love learning, it's fun. But the bonus part about my "attention problems", is that I am constantly searching for something to perk my interest, that I am always learning about new things. Wonderful things, odd things, and useful things. I put these things to use when I write fanfics, poems, short stories, and novels.
I am constantly moving, constantly doing something. I find it funny when people think I just sit on my ass all day watching movies ... would you like to know what else I'm doing? While I'm "sitting my on ass, watching movies", I'm writing, reading, chatting with numerous people, researching facts for my new novel, feeding/watering/playing with my dog, checking my e-mail, updating my facebook/nexopia/evony pages, re-organizing my movies and books, deciding what to make for supper, exercising, and writing down songs that I want to listen to/download. And while doing all of these things, I am actively aware of everything that's happening. I remember everything that I'm doing, I see and remember what it is that I am doing/watching. To those of you who think that people can't multi-task like that ... I say, welcome to the world of ADHD.
My ADHD makes working with children so much more fun. The kids at my practicum love me because I play with them - and KEEP UP with them. I move from one thing to the next at the drop of a hat. And it works. Now, what part of that sounds like a "disorder"? I'd love to know how the ability to do that should be "cured" ...
I honestly hope that I never grow out of my ADHD. I love it, I embrace it ... and I wish there were more people that could have this kind of attitude about it.
Once a Year
Once a year, the same day of the same month, I take time to remember my best friend. Once a year, I shut out the rest of the world, and spend the day missing him, loving him, remembering him. Once a year, I let myself mourn his passing, in anger and sadness. Once a year, I can’t stand to look at anyone else … because it kills me that they are still happy. That they can still go on with their lives, as though nothing happened.
I lock myself away, because I know what would happen if I didn’t. I would let loose all of the hate, and anger, and frustration, and fury inside of me, and I would hurt the people that I love.
Once a year, I pull out my old diary, and I read that diary entry from so long ago. I read the words so full of sadness and disbelief, and know that the same feeling still emanates from within me. Once a year, I let myself wish that I could go back to that day and stop it from happening. Once a year, I let myself believe that I actually could have done something to stop it. At the very least, I could have said a real goodbye.
I’ve been told that I need to let go, that it’s been long enough. I’ve been told that I have to let him go, stop mourning, and live my life. 365 days out of the year, I do live my life. I pretend that everything is okay, and that it’s all behind me. But not this day. This day, I’m allowed to grieve. This day, I’m all allowed to miss him. Once a year, I have the right to cry, and scream, and yell, and hate the world for taking away my best friend.
I do not smile on August 22nd. I do not laugh, I do not have fun … I don’t have to pretend that there isn’t a hole in my heart where he used to be. In two days, I’ll spend the day remembering my best friend, and then I’ll put it all back inside for another year.
Once a year, George, I wish I could be where you are. I miss you and I love you.
I lock myself away, because I know what would happen if I didn’t. I would let loose all of the hate, and anger, and frustration, and fury inside of me, and I would hurt the people that I love.
Once a year, I pull out my old diary, and I read that diary entry from so long ago. I read the words so full of sadness and disbelief, and know that the same feeling still emanates from within me. Once a year, I let myself wish that I could go back to that day and stop it from happening. Once a year, I let myself believe that I actually could have done something to stop it. At the very least, I could have said a real goodbye.
I’ve been told that I need to let go, that it’s been long enough. I’ve been told that I have to let him go, stop mourning, and live my life. 365 days out of the year, I do live my life. I pretend that everything is okay, and that it’s all behind me. But not this day. This day, I’m allowed to grieve. This day, I’m all allowed to miss him. Once a year, I have the right to cry, and scream, and yell, and hate the world for taking away my best friend.
I do not smile on August 22nd. I do not laugh, I do not have fun … I don’t have to pretend that there isn’t a hole in my heart where he used to be. In two days, I’ll spend the day remembering my best friend, and then I’ll put it all back inside for another year.
Once a year, George, I wish I could be where you are. I miss you and I love you.
What is 'Happy'?
A smile?
A laugh?
A joke?
A secret look between lovers?
A night out?
A night in?
Do these things make a person happy?
Or do they leave them wanting?
Imagine, if you will,
A place where happiness is not a question.
It just is.
How does one measure happiness?
I have asked myself this very question,
Every minute of every day,
And every sleepless night.
What does it take to be happy?
And why do we chase it so?
Written in March of 2007.
A laugh?
A joke?
A secret look between lovers?
A night out?
A night in?
Do these things make a person happy?
Or do they leave them wanting?
Imagine, if you will,
A place where happiness is not a question.
It just is.
How does one measure happiness?
I have asked myself this very question,
Every minute of every day,
And every sleepless night.
What does it take to be happy?
And why do we chase it so?
Written in March of 2007.
Wake Up
She sleeps, not moving
Not even breathing
Her body is perfectly still
Her face is at peace
Like I've never seen before
When I touch her hand
Her skin is like ice
Why is she cold?
I tell her to wake up
To come play with me
She doesn't answer
I tell myself that she hasn't heard me
That she'll soon awaken
From her deep slumber
I shake her pale form
Saying, 'Mom, wake up!'
But she doesn't answer
She looks so small
So vulnerable and fragile
She should be in her bed
And not in this coffin
Surrounded by her weeping family
Written in January of 2005, in memory of a friend's mom who passed away.
Not even breathing
Her body is perfectly still
Her face is at peace
Like I've never seen before
When I touch her hand
Her skin is like ice
Why is she cold?
I tell her to wake up
To come play with me
She doesn't answer
I tell myself that she hasn't heard me
That she'll soon awaken
From her deep slumber
I shake her pale form
Saying, 'Mom, wake up!'
But she doesn't answer
She looks so small
So vulnerable and fragile
She should be in her bed
And not in this coffin
Surrounded by her weeping family
Written in January of 2005, in memory of a friend's mom who passed away.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Why Write Down a Feeling
Why write down a feeling?
Everyone can see it,
It's forever engraved.
Once you write it down,
It's out there,
And it's seen as the truth.
Should you change your mind,
About this feeling,
People second-guess you.
They think you are either a liar,
Or you don't know what you're talking about.
When you write something down,
It's a part of you.
Clearly,
Writing anything down,
Whether it's a feeling or not,
Is quite dangerous.
So, I ask you,
Why write down a feeling?
Written in March of 2005.
Everyone can see it,
It's forever engraved.
Once you write it down,
It's out there,
And it's seen as the truth.
Should you change your mind,
About this feeling,
People second-guess you.
They think you are either a liar,
Or you don't know what you're talking about.
When you write something down,
It's a part of you.
Clearly,
Writing anything down,
Whether it's a feeling or not,
Is quite dangerous.
So, I ask you,
Why write down a feeling?
Written in March of 2005.
Dark
Another poem I wrote back in high school. One of my longer ones, and the only one I had the guts to show my English teacher for feedback:
The darkness scares me
All mysterious and black
It gets under my skin
It holds me back
You can't see what's out there
You can't turn your back
All you can do
Is wait to be attacked
You can run away
You can try to hide
But the fact remains
Your fear won't subside
Will no one help me?
I'm here all alone
The cold night breeze
Chills me to the bone
I see a shadow
I look all around
My feet seem glued
To the hard ground
I see the shadow move
That's all it takes
My feet are unglued
As I realize the stakes
My life is in danger
That's plain to see
But what have I done?
Why is he chasing me?
My heart is pounding in my chest
As I'm running, a pain in my hip
My legs give out from their laborious work
Oh no! I fall, I trip!
As I lay there in pain
Sprawled on the sidewalk
I hear footsteps, mumbling
I hear someone talk
My heart is pounding faster still
It seems I was running up a hill
I don't understand what's going on
What could I have done so wrong?
Someone is speaking
His words are unclear
But on him I can smell
That pungent trace of beer
'I'm going to die!'
I can't help thinking
'He doesn't know what he's doing
He's been drinking'
I try to sit up
I try to move back
But then a pain in my head
And everything goes black
I wake up in the hospital
My mom looking down at me
There are tears in her eyes
So I try to let her be
She sees that I'm awake
Her tears become a sob
I don't understand
And my head begins to throb
She tells me that she's sorry
That she feels so bad
I still don't know
Why she's so sad
I look around at the room I'm in
Throat dry, and my stomach hurts
I can't imagine a single time
That I've ever felt worse
My entire body is in pain
There's an IV in my arm
Yet still on my wrist
Is my favorite lucky charm
'Some luck it gave me'
I think in my head
As I'm totally helpless
Lying here on the bed
I've been raped and mugged
The doctor informs me
I refuse to believe it
How could this be?
Time goes by
I get to go home
I never leave again
I stay at home
The darkness scares me
All mysterious and black
It gets under my skin
It holds me back
Written in March of 2004.
The darkness scares me
All mysterious and black
It gets under my skin
It holds me back
You can't see what's out there
You can't turn your back
All you can do
Is wait to be attacked
You can run away
You can try to hide
But the fact remains
Your fear won't subside
Will no one help me?
I'm here all alone
The cold night breeze
Chills me to the bone
I see a shadow
I look all around
My feet seem glued
To the hard ground
I see the shadow move
That's all it takes
My feet are unglued
As I realize the stakes
My life is in danger
That's plain to see
But what have I done?
Why is he chasing me?
My heart is pounding in my chest
As I'm running, a pain in my hip
My legs give out from their laborious work
Oh no! I fall, I trip!
As I lay there in pain
Sprawled on the sidewalk
I hear footsteps, mumbling
I hear someone talk
My heart is pounding faster still
It seems I was running up a hill
I don't understand what's going on
What could I have done so wrong?
Someone is speaking
His words are unclear
But on him I can smell
That pungent trace of beer
'I'm going to die!'
I can't help thinking
'He doesn't know what he's doing
He's been drinking'
I try to sit up
I try to move back
But then a pain in my head
And everything goes black
I wake up in the hospital
My mom looking down at me
There are tears in her eyes
So I try to let her be
She sees that I'm awake
Her tears become a sob
I don't understand
And my head begins to throb
She tells me that she's sorry
That she feels so bad
I still don't know
Why she's so sad
I look around at the room I'm in
Throat dry, and my stomach hurts
I can't imagine a single time
That I've ever felt worse
My entire body is in pain
There's an IV in my arm
Yet still on my wrist
Is my favorite lucky charm
'Some luck it gave me'
I think in my head
As I'm totally helpless
Lying here on the bed
I've been raped and mugged
The doctor informs me
I refuse to believe it
How could this be?
Time goes by
I get to go home
I never leave again
I stay at home
The darkness scares me
All mysterious and black
It gets under my skin
It holds me back
Written in March of 2004.
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