Rainey Daze and Crazy Nights

Poetry, Paintings, and Ponderings: Through My Eyes

Right Now April 7, 2013

Filed under: all,friend,friends,grief,Poems,poetry,random — rainey46 @ 8:45 am
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Right now,

I know you feel alone,

lost, and without hope

But I want you to know

Right now,

I am here for you

to comfort you

to show you

that you are not alone

right now,

as always

I am your friend.

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Simple, Sweet, Pure and Clean January 15, 2013

Once…

life was simple, sweet,

pure and clean.

seemingly infinite days of summer brought

sun-burnt noses, pony-tailed hair,

skinned knees and rosy freckles

sprinkled on tan faces.

Friendships

born and cementedMoonlight

over grilled cheese sandwiches,

soda pop on back steps,

energetic backyard baseball,

and rainy day marathons

of Monopoly and Clue.

Glowing flashes of yellow fireflies,

streetlights illuminating the dusk,

and hide-n-go-seek

brought the golden days to an end

when

life was simple, sweet,

pure and clean.

 

 

For MBC January 13, 2013

Filed under: friend — rainey46 @ 9:27 am
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Here is a magnificent sword. Use it to fight your battles and come back into the light. ~RaineyKing's_Sword

 

You’ve Got a Friend January 6, 2013

 

♫ ♪ This is a great song to sing along to and think of someone who means a lot to you. James Taylor’s family has also suffered with mental illness, and I feel he speaks to me when he sings.

When you’re down and troubled and you need a helping hand
and nothing, whoa, nothing is going right.
Close your eyes and think of me and soon I will be there to brighten up even your darkest nights.

You just call out my name, and you know where ever I am
I’ll come running to see you again.
Winter, spring, summer, or fall, all you have to do is call and I’ll be there, yeah, yeah,
you’ve got a friend.

If the sky above you should turn dark and full of clouds
and that old north wind should begin to blow,
keep your head together and call my name out loud.
Soon I will be knocking upon your door.
You just call out my name, and you know where ever I am
I’ll come running to see you again.
Winter, spring, summer, or fall, all you have to do is call and I’ll be there.

Hey, ain’t it good to know that you’ve got a friend? People can be so cold.
They’ll hurt you and desert you. Well, they’ll take your soul if you let them,
oh yeah, but don’t you let them.

You just call out my name, and you know where ever I am
I’ll come running to see you again.
Winter, spring, summer, or fall, all you have to do is call, Lord, I’ll be there, yeah, yeah,
you’ve got a friend. You’ve got a friend.
Ain’t it good to know you’ve got a friend. Ain’t it good to know you’ve got a friend.
Oh, yeah, yeah, you’ve got a friend.

 

 

WordPress Friendships Vs. Real Life Friendships: Who Wins?

Is it bad that I feel closer to some of my WordPress friends than I do my “real life” friends? Should I be concerned? I have met the kindest, funniest, and sweetest people in blog-land.  I look forward to reading and interacting with you more than real life friends.

To be fair, I keep real life friends at arm’s length; I always have. I have many, many acquaintances…you know, people who are “friends” whom you talk to when you see them, you chat on Facebook, you know about their children and their dog, but you don’t go to the movies or show up at each others homes. Real friends (which I define as people who can drop by unannounced and not piss me off, people who call and I actually answer, or people I turn to when I need a shoulder or they need one) I can count on two  hands one finger. Seriously. I just don’t let people in for fear that they run screaming “FREAK!”.

I am amazed that I found a mate. He is clueless, mind you. I don’t mean that in a bad way. He just lives in his own happy-land world and ignores or doesn’t see the bad. For example, my youngest daughter, S, is gay. I’ve known it, the way a mother knows, for a long, long time. When she “came out” (I hate that phrase because it was like she was hiding, but she wasn’t, she just hadn’t figured it out for herself yet) I hugged her and told her it was great while hubs freaked. I mean, seriously FREAKED. He was born and raised in small town, USA (where we still live, BTW) He proclaimed that he loved her, but would not have “any of that shit in his house.” Not long after that, S met her partner, E. Hubs said she wasn’t coming in our house or to family events. This almost broke us up because I will NEVER do that to my daughter! I finally made him see that was wrong (he’s not a bad person, he just was raised a certain way) and that I would not alienate S by forbidding her to bring over the person she loves! He has adjusted, but here is how: in his mind, S and E are “friends”. “Roommates”. NOT lovers. He makes it okay by putting it in terms he can handle. Like I said, he lives in his own happy world.

That is how he is able to live with me or even love me. He sees what he WANTS to see. When I am depressed, I am “feeling bad” as in I have a cold or a virus. If you asked him right now if his wife gets depressed, he would say no. And he would believe it.

I wear a mask around the people who know me. An impenetrably, harden mask that sits firmly in place. It never slips. It never fails. But when I sit down at this computer, I take the mask off and place it gently on the table beside me. I type…sometimes silly, sometimes serious, but always, always truly me. And guess what? A person followed my blog. Someone else liked it. And before long, I had a regular connection with a fine group of people. None of them ran screaming…well, some probably did, but who needs them? But people are getting to know me, and they are actually sticking around. This is an amazing gift.

So yes, I feel closer to you than people who actually know me. But maybe, just maybe, I will take a peek from around the mask and let someone see a tiny part of me.

mask of Many Colors

 

Early Signs of Mania and Choices I Made August 6, 2012

Trigger Warning: Drug and alcohol use, abortion, and gang rape

I was sixteen years old when I first left home. (I ran away before, but the police brought me back). My mother and I  had spent the past few years butting heads and I was tired of living by her rules. The more I rebelled, the tighter she tried to hold me. By this time I had smoked weed, drank any alcohol I could get my hands on, and popped whatever pills I could find for about a year. I rebelled more and more as the memories of childhood sexual abuse came to the surface. My mother accused me of lying about it for “attention”, which just drove a bigger wedge between us. I think this was also my first instance of mania. I was wild and crazy, just a party girl looking to have a good time.

I had a friend I smoked weed with named *Greg. Greg was a sweet, quiet guy and we hit it off. A few months later, I was pregnant. Deciding to get married, we told his mom and dad. My parents? I had so much anger in me I simply told them I was getting married and leaving. Being all of sixteen years old, my dad had to go to courthouse and sign for me to get married. I still remember the anger and pain radiating from him as he stormed from the room.

We immediately moved in with Greg’s parents. We slept in his childhood room that was still decorated for the high-school senior that he was. He had a part-time mechanic’s job. I didn’t have a job, but none of this bothered me. I knew it would work out fine, and I had visions of being this great mom living this perfect life. That’s why I think I was manic during this period.

Not long after moving in, Greg’s mom talked with us. She was this uneducated little country woman, but she had a way  of talking that was very sweet and gentle. She convinced us both that having a baby at that point in our lives was a mistake. She loaned us the money and gave us the number of a clinic that performed abortions. We decided to go through with it that next week. I had not spoken to my family since I left, so I had no one to talk to about my choices other than Greg’s mom.

Again, I think I was manic throughout this entire period. Otherwise I don’t think I could have done this and survived. I always considered abortion as a woman’s option, but never, in my sixteen-year-old mind, did I think it would be an option I had to consider. So I focused on my “great life” Greg and I would have after this “procedure”.

I won’t go into details about the abortion. Just know it was horrible and something I have to live with for the rest of my life. Manic or not, I chose to go through with it.

Afterward, I felt empty, as though my soul was left behind in that clinic. This began one of the darkest periods of my young life. If I had been wild before, I was now the poster child for “Girls Gone Wild”. The drug use became worse as I grew more and more out of control. I found a job at a burger restaurant and we found a place of our own. I attended night school so I could get my high school diploma. Greg worked two jobs. Most of our money went toward rent, electricity, and alcohol, and drugs. We began selling weed to help support our habit. For months we ate egg sandwiches and whatever I could bring home from my work. Every day, I got high, drunk, or stoned on something. Every weekend, we went to wild parties thrown by his older friends.

His friends, Kevin and Robert, had their own apartment and they knew how to throw a party. We were always welcome, and at the time I thought it was because they just liked us and were such good friends. I felt the way they looked at me, but it was no different from how men always looked at me. I didn’t think much about it, really. I wore sex like a costume because it was a weapon for me, flirting shamelessly.  No one looked at me, the real me, if they were too busy looking at my body.

One night the party was wilder than usual. Some new drugs came in and they were strong. We danced and partied like always. Greg and I had no money for drugs that weekend. so Kevin and Robert gave them to us. They also kept giving Greg drinks until he was too drunk to function. They told us we could stay the night since we were too wasted to drive. We had never stayed, but we both thought it was a good idea. I remember dancing and first Kevin, then Robert, slipping me more drugs. I remember very little about the next few hours.

Around three in the morning Greg and I stumbled to the bed in the spare room. We both passed out immediately. Within twenty minutes, Kevin and Robert snuck into the room and picked me up. I remember waking up and they told me we were going to party some more. I think I passed out again, because the next thing I remember I was in a different bed and completely naked. Kevin was on top of me.

I was so stoned everything around me seem to be flashing in slow motion. I looked over Kevin’s head and saw five guys surrounding the bed. I tried to say no, but I don’t know if the word even came out of my mouth. I did push against him, but I was no match for him. When he finished, the next guy climbed on top of me. I was crying and pleading with them to let me go, but they laughed and told me “we’re just having fun” and “you know you like it”. I even yelled for Greg, but he was passed out. They didn’t let me go until they all had a turn.

Robert led me back to the spare room and put me back in bed with Greg. I cried myself to sleep.

I never told Greg or anyone else what happened that night. I was too embarrassed and thought it was my fault for being a flirt. Not long after that, Greg and I decided to go our separate ways. I continued to self-medicate for many years, trying to forget the choices I made and where those choices led me.

*All names have been changed to protect the innocent…and the guilty.

 

Just Another Day July 25, 2012

A good friend is coming to visit today. Is it wrong that I want to call her and tell her I’m busy?  It’s not that I don’t want to see her, I actually miss her because I haven’t seen her all summer. But things have been so bad around here with J, I’m not really feeling up to having company. But I also know that is depression talking. T (my friend) always makes me laugh and I know it will be good to see her. She knows more than most about what I go through with J, so I don’t have to hide it. But she is also one of a very few who can read me well, and can see through the front I put on for most. Sometimes that is a good thing, sometimes not so much.

J is going to the psychiatrist in a little while, and hubs has to go to work. I will actually be alone for a bit. There is such relief in being alone. I can just be me. No questions, no problems. I can write, paint, clean, do whatever! Most people don’t like to be alone, but I love it and often crave it.

My mood today is….hmmm…unaffected. Some times my moods are very reactive to the people or situation around me. At other times, I feel like an outside observer watching things happen. That is how I feel now. J is barely functioning: not talking, not eating, extreme irritability; sometimes this sets me on edge or plunges me into deeper depression. Not today; today I am just a bystander in my life, observing with little emotional investment. Maybe this is a way I protect myself. If so, then the armour is up and ready today. If they put J in the hospital it might be the best mood to be in.