Image by Reimund Bertrams from Pixabay
I travel away
to worlds distant from my own
where I find myself
~Cie~
Notes:
Today's November PAD Chapbook Challenge asked for a Travel poem. Here is mine.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Friday, November 22, 2019
Tuesday, March 14, 2017
Down By The River Skai
A peaceful spot along the River Skai
I've had a lot of personal trouble lately, and it translates into trouble writing. When I was younger, I often wrote more when times were troubled as a form of escape. These days, when times are troubled, I feel like I don't deserve anything positive and that includes feeling like I don't deserve to write.
I know I'm not one of those well-liked bloggers who gets lots of lurrrrve and encouragement from their followers. Comes with the territory of being a depressive, defensive porcupine. I don't even particularly like the idea of being a super popular blogger, because too many people really don't get what I'm writing or what it's like to live with severe mental illness, and have a tendency to say things that come off as belittling.
Anyway, if you really want to know what's going on with me, complete with a Tarot reading, you can follow this link to my esoteric stuff and bitching about social inequalities blog. If you're one of those super duper uber materialist people who think that we're born, we live, we die, the end and that tarot readings are for unevolved morons with their heads in the clouds, please don't follow that link just to start an argument. I'll just call you an asshole and tell you to fuck off. Now that I've predicted the future, you don't need to bother yourself.
I'm very upset over the situation I describe in the linked post. I'm diabetic, but I haven't been able to make myself eat anything but cheese and nuts since yesterday. This also means I haven't been able to take my medication. With all my health problems, I probably shouldn't be working anyway. However, it is impossible to live on disability payments, so I continue working long hours in spite of the fact that I shouldn't.
Like me, my character Pepper has a lot of problems, including mental health issues. When I saw this picture, I thought that perhaps Pepper was feeling very depressed, so she retreated to the Dreamlands. She went to a peaceful area along the River Skai. Gerry found Pepper there, and he sat beside her, put his arms around her, and just held her, not even having to say anything at all.
I think Pepper is very lucky.
This isn't the end, not that anyone cares. I'll be back with more, even if nobody reads it at all.
~Cie~
Wednesday, August 31, 2016
Get To Know The Netherworld Crew: The Real Cie
The theme for Silver Threading's Writer's Quote Wednesday Writing Challenge is Comedy. What does the above picture have to do with comedy? It doesn't, it has to do with me, The Real Cie, the butt of the Universe's cruel jokes. We'll get to that.
I created the above picture to be included in a mass email for the birthday of Jared Padalecki, the actor who plays Sam Winchester on Supernatural. Jared lives with depression, and he created the Always Keep Fighting charity to raise awareness. There's something about Jared. More on people with "something about them" later in the post.
Yes, the tattoo is the permanent kind.
I created the above picture to be included in a mass email for the birthday of Jared Padalecki, the actor who plays Sam Winchester on Supernatural. Jared lives with depression, and he created the Always Keep Fighting charity to raise awareness. There's something about Jared. More on people with "something about them" later in the post.
Yes, the tattoo is the permanent kind.
Am I doing this right? I don't know. Will they like me? Probably not. A few people do, but most people don't understand where I'm coming from at all. Nor do they get my sense of humor.
In this post, I refer to myself in both first and third person. Referring to me as I am now, I always use first person. Referring to my past self or the fictionalized version of myself, I will use either first or third person. I tend not to edit posts of this nature too much, because I want to preserve the emotional rawness.
In this post, I refer to myself in both first and third person. Referring to me as I am now, I always use first person. Referring to my past self or the fictionalized version of myself, I will use either first or third person. I tend not to edit posts of this nature too much, because I want to preserve the emotional rawness.
I've never fit in. I was badly bullied. I had a serious mental illness (I have three diagnoses, actually: Bipolar disorder type 2, Borderline Personality Disorder, and Obsessive-compulsive disorder) that was improperly diagnosed until I was nearly 40. There was always something different about me. People saw that and wanted to destroy it. I wasn't pretty, I was socially awkward. I tried to make people like me, but they didn't. I started self-injuring when I was in my early teens. I made my first suicide attempt at age 13 by swallowing a bottle of aspirin.
Because I was raised Catholic, I believed that committing suicide was a sin that would get you sent to hell. Because sending a person who was already suffering to hell makes a lot of sense, right? Not here to argue theology, but that idea is a crock of shit, as is the idea that people who commit suicide are "selfish" or "stupid." Suicide may be "a permanent end to a temporary problem," or it may in fact be not a permanent end to a lifelong problem. Pithy sayings don't work on serious issues.
"This is really fucking depressing, Real Cie," you're saying. "When are you going to get to the comedy part?"
The prompt mentions Robin Williams.
Mork is one of the friends I turned to when real life was too painful.
I was a writer from the time I was very young. I was precocious and learned to read at a first grade level when I was four years old. I'm not saying this to brag about how smart I was, because I don't really think I'm that smart overall. I was in the top percentile for the English category when I took my SAT's. I have some sort of gift in the English comprehension and writing areas, but I've never learned to use it in a way that appeals to most people. I'd like to thank my bipolar disorder for that.
I always had a real sense for the absurd as well. I could find bits of humor in the oddest places. Other people didn't get it. I used it to survive.
Young Me used her literary and metaphysical gifts to escape to an alternate world. Unlike the world I was living in, this world was filled with fun and friends.
I didn't know it then, but I was an empath who could pick up on other people's emotions. I wish I could have known Robin Williams in life. I think that Real Cie and Robin would have been friends, just like Cie in my stories and Mork were friends. That's what I like to think.
"This is really fucking depressing, Real Cie," you're saying. "When are you going to get to the comedy part?"
The prompt mentions Robin Williams.
Mork is one of the friends I turned to when real life was too painful.
I was a writer from the time I was very young. I was precocious and learned to read at a first grade level when I was four years old. I'm not saying this to brag about how smart I was, because I don't really think I'm that smart overall. I was in the top percentile for the English category when I took my SAT's. I have some sort of gift in the English comprehension and writing areas, but I've never learned to use it in a way that appeals to most people. I'd like to thank my bipolar disorder for that.
I always had a real sense for the absurd as well. I could find bits of humor in the oddest places. Other people didn't get it. I used it to survive.
Young Me used her literary and metaphysical gifts to escape to an alternate world. Unlike the world I was living in, this world was filled with fun and friends.
I didn't know it then, but I was an empath who could pick up on other people's emotions. I wish I could have known Robin Williams in life. I think that Real Cie and Robin would have been friends, just like Cie in my stories and Mork were friends. That's what I like to think.
This became Mork and Cie's favorite band after one of Cie's few friends' older brothers played their music and Cie said "wow, who's that?"
Keep in mind that in the 1970's, there was no public Internet. Young Cie had to go into record shops and look for imported magazines to find out more about her new favorite band. She liked doing research anyway, and liked pretending to be a detective.
If you see evil rather than humor when looking at the above picture, you need to adjust your perspective. I'm still gobsmacked that anyone could have thought of these men as "evil."
Cie liked AC/DC not only for the music, but because, like her, they were outcasts and freaks who used their sense of humor both to cope and to entertain others. They didn't like people who bullied other people. There was also "something about them."
I didn't know it yet, but "something about them" means "walking wounded."
Even at ten years old, when I was watching Star Trek reruns I really resonated with the Empath character, Gem. I didn't know it yet, but it was because, like her, I take on other people's pain. I don't get physical manifestations, and, unfortunately, I can't do psychic healing on a physical level.
This plane is purgatory, and this world is in a lot of pain. I used and still use my sense of the Ridiculous to cope, and most people don't get it. I've suffered a lot of derision because of it.
I still do it because the Pissed Off Crusader for Justice in me doesn't want me to destroy who I am to please other people. I've tried it several times. I almost didn't survive. I won't do it again.
I think that many people who express themselves through comedy use comedy as a coping mechanism. Like me, they have been bullied, or they suffer with a mood disorder such as depression or bipolar disorder. Seeing the ridiculous helps us survive. Often we try to make the world a better place. Sadly, it doesn't really seem to work.
This doesn't mean we shouldn't try, though. If we make the world a somewhat better place for a few people, it's worth it.
I've got more to say, much more. But the foam mat on my bed has slipped sideways and it's really irritating me, so I need to fix it.
Did I mention that I have OCD?
I have to joke about my mental illnesses, because otherwise I'd go crazy!
I'll be here all week. Also, for the rest of my life.
Keep in mind that in the 1970's, there was no public Internet. Young Cie had to go into record shops and look for imported magazines to find out more about her new favorite band. She liked doing research anyway, and liked pretending to be a detective.
If you see evil rather than humor when looking at the above picture, you need to adjust your perspective. I'm still gobsmacked that anyone could have thought of these men as "evil."
Cie liked AC/DC not only for the music, but because, like her, they were outcasts and freaks who used their sense of humor both to cope and to entertain others. They didn't like people who bullied other people. There was also "something about them."
I didn't know it yet, but "something about them" means "walking wounded."
Even at ten years old, when I was watching Star Trek reruns I really resonated with the Empath character, Gem. I didn't know it yet, but it was because, like her, I take on other people's pain. I don't get physical manifestations, and, unfortunately, I can't do psychic healing on a physical level.
This plane is purgatory, and this world is in a lot of pain. I used and still use my sense of the Ridiculous to cope, and most people don't get it. I've suffered a lot of derision because of it.
I still do it because the Pissed Off Crusader for Justice in me doesn't want me to destroy who I am to please other people. I've tried it several times. I almost didn't survive. I won't do it again.
I think that many people who express themselves through comedy use comedy as a coping mechanism. Like me, they have been bullied, or they suffer with a mood disorder such as depression or bipolar disorder. Seeing the ridiculous helps us survive. Often we try to make the world a better place. Sadly, it doesn't really seem to work.
This doesn't mean we shouldn't try, though. If we make the world a somewhat better place for a few people, it's worth it.
I've got more to say, much more. But the foam mat on my bed has slipped sideways and it's really irritating me, so I need to fix it.
Did I mention that I have OCD?
I have to joke about my mental illnesses, because otherwise I'd go crazy!
I'll be here all week. Also, for the rest of my life.
~Cie~
Cross-posted to:
Thursday, June 4, 2015
Twelve Signs that a Ghost is Near
Below is my reply to a fascinating post on a fine blog that I just discovered.
The spirit who is primarily in contact with me is very gentle. He gives off warmth rather than cold. I personally haven't encountered many who give off cold, usually I don't feel any kind of temperature change from their presence.
My great grandfather was able to see spirits and knew when people were going to die. I often have precognitive dreams when people are going to pass or if something traumatic is going to happen. I wish I could see the spirits as my great grandfather did, but I've only seen two human spirits. I can sense them, however. I sense their emotions.
I like to write about the paranormal as well but I've become a bit shy about doing so after receiving numerous hate messages over the years. I'm trying to become involved in writing again and not let people dissuade me so much.
I enjoyed finding out about your blog.
My great grandfather was able to see spirits and knew when people were going to die. I often have precognitive dreams when people are going to pass or if something traumatic is going to happen. I wish I could see the spirits as my great grandfather did, but I've only seen two human spirits. I can sense them, however. I sense their emotions.
I like to write about the paranormal as well but I've become a bit shy about doing so after receiving numerous hate messages over the years. I'm trying to become involved in writing again and not let people dissuade me so much.
I enjoyed finding out about your blog.
~Cie~
Sunday, November 30, 2014
Won
Won
Prompt used:
Most of the time these days I don't share my personal thoughts very much. I used to blog fairly prolifically about my mental health issues and my metaphysical beliefs. I no longer do. I used to cling to the idea that I could help others with my honesty, but I actually wasn't being true to myself.
Today, I will talk about my Won.
I once believed that it was my destiny to become famous. This is probably part and parcel of my psych disorder. I thought that I had an important message to impart to the world. At the point in my life when I was religious, I believed that I was sent by God to do so.
I discovered that I actually dislike pursuing fame. I'm a very vulnerable person. I don't like opening myself up to the kind of scrutiny that fame requires. I wish that people wouldn't be so mean and judgmental, but they are.
Losing my quest for fame was similar to losing my desire to drink. Believe me, I once loved to toss one or six back. You think I'm talking about beer? Silly you. I'm talking about Long Island Iced Teas. I liked to party. I liked to get down. When I stopped being able to drink, it became very difficult for me to socialize.
I've spent the last five years figuring out what the hell to do with myself without the pursuit of fame.
Fame is an illusory and fickle master. Those who become famous don't necessarily remain that way. Fame has a way of destroying those it creates.
I found out a lot about fame when I decided I no longer wanted to pursue it. It was sort of like finding out that my perfect husband was actually cheating his way through town with every man, woman, and sometimes underaged person that he could get his hands on, and on top of that he was having people killed.
I'm going to make a long story short. There were a lot of hurtful events leading up to my eventual decision. There was a lot of backstabbing by people who called themselves "friends," and a lot of losing parts of myself that I'd always held dear.
One of these so called "friends" caused me to lose the belief in the part of myself which was able to reach beyond the material world and touch the spiritual levels. I said that I would never connect the the worlds beyond again. This decision caused not only me but my creativity to suffer. I went into a Dark Night of the Soul.
Recent events on a metaphysical level (which I am going to be cagey about) have led to some of those parts returning. There is someone I can never thank enough. My connection to the spirit world was always very important to me. When I lost it, I lost a big part of myself. Thanks to this special soul, that connection has returned.
I will never again pursue fame, but I am no longer so hardline as I was before on the idea of never publishing again outside of blogging.
Getting rid of the Won that I had to be famous to do good was the first step.
Getting rid of the Won that I had to do things other people's way to be in tune with the world beyond was the second step. I could not have done this without help.
I'm the shout it from the rooftops type of person. I wish I could reveal more about this turning-point situation, but I really can't. Suffice it to say, it has made all the difference.
There are those who will scoff at what I'm saying here. There are those who won't scoff but also won't believe me.
For the scoffers, it is not my job to persuade you. I am not the Jerk Whisperer.
It isn't my job to persuade anyone else either. I won't be sucked into the "prove it or it doesn't exist" argument as I have in the past. I don't tell you how to believe. I trust you will return the favor.
Some people will say that what I experience is part of my mental illness. I truly believe that it is not. I have always been able to discern between concrete physical reality and those things that can't be proven by hard science. Bipolar type 2 does not tend to present with hallucinations or illusions. I've had both before, usually as the result of medication or illicit drugs, or in some cases extreme lack of sleep. I can tell when I'm hallucinating.
I do not generally see spirits, although I have seen them on two occasions. I sense their emotions. I have fairly pronounced empathic abilities.
In any case, regardless of whatever anyone else may believe, I have some very important parts of myself back, and I have shed the millstone of fame that was hanging around the neck of my soul.
I feel hope and I feel love.
I refuse to believe that these things are Won.
I tried to be completely secular for too long. That isn't me.
I am not religious, but I have spiritual beliefs.
I will not let my soul be stolen from me again.
~Cie~
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