The Older I Become

The older I become 

The more narrow my focus,

The less I have to say,

The more I have to think

The older I grow

The less time I spend,

The more time I waste,

 The less I care

The older I am

The more comfort I seek,

The less arguments I start,

The less energy I spare

The older I stay

The more I maintain,

The higher the threshold,

The harder I fall

The older I live

The less I speak

The more love I give

The more peace I have

One Day

One day I will actually create art again. Its been a painful uphill battle to start again.

Binded to Bedlam

Too many word, too fast to write down

And the greatest bit of all is that they make no sound

Though you may see me quiet and calm

Internally, cognition is perpetually so loud it is profound

Some noise is foolish, like a child learning speech

Random patterns in unorganized sequences to which they peak

And as my physical being, I may appear small and meek 

But if you could hear the noise inside, it would be clear that I am not weak

I break barriers with words, provoking mindfulness to all

As my heart desires truth, my mind unrelentingly answers each call

Through pain, through evil I do fight, but the one thing I can't shake:

I must be ever cautious as I climb to my transcendence

There remains an equal and opposite potential that I may fall

What you may call "Soul Searching"

Transcendental Revival is Essential to my Survival

In the endless sea of seas
Across the path of manipulative thieves
And false profits - preachers do seize
The honest mans' only payment for deeds
There does exist a potential to perceive
The chaotic truth and the peace in need

In nothing more than the clothes on your back
The fire in your eyes, motivation irrelevant but intact
Transcend the enemy's means of soulless life hacks
In nothing more than powerful literate attacks
I follow independently in a familiar track

A similar fashion I seek to revive - which I once wore so well
That tier of excellence you've achieved and from I once fell

Chaos to Peace: I am Human.

Like perfection, the concept of complete happiness no longer feels practical or even relevant. I no longer possess the energy to waste a single moment of my time mulling over unrealistic notions that leave me feeling... less than human. 

But I am human. Sometimes that frustrates me just the same. I will make mistakes, I will have failures, and I will always be changing - developing, evolving.

All of the "in between" I've wasted so many days fighting to be at peace with happens to be the very conflict that creates chaos, the opposite of that which I attempt to accomplish within myself. 

So happiness - I'm no longer concerned with. Above all desires I have: knowledge, intellect, self awareness, and self sustainability - peace within myself has taken top priority. 

The moment I gave up on the idea of  "happiness", and began to find peace was the moment my entire perspective changed. And the moment I change, the world around me suddenly made more sense, and once again I feel human.

I am human.

And so are all of you.

the post before The Post

There's writing to soon follow.

"Why?" Part 1

Where do I even start. "Why?"

Before I even started this post, I had re-written the word "why" so many times it started to sound like a foreign language. I enjoy the small, insignificant things in life that we so often take advantage of. Like saying a wording so many times, the sound itself loses meaning to the ears.

Ok, moving on. I want to explain (for the second time, but so much time has passed I feel I need to reevaluate the reasons) of why I write. I have a problem where I write the way I talk, so this will not be formal. Essays are extremely tedious to me for that exact reason: I can't just write what I want to literally say. Every single fucking statement, word, letter, punctuation mark has its place. I understand that translating what you think to what you say is difficult enough, but a simple step forward - actually putting yours thoughts into words on a paper - can be more complicated than differential equations to some people.

I write and create visual art for similar reasons, but different emotional outlets. I draw no matter what mood, I just need a visual muse to stimulate my brain. My visual art is also purposefully more unrealistic or even surreal because it can be. However, when I write, I write with purpose. I write with reason. I write to show the world I'm not afraid of unmasking the deep, dark truths of the world we share. We do share it, and I want to put in my two cents because people forget that very notion. People forget that EVERYONE else, with few exceptions, has feelings, emotions, opinions, preferences, logic, reasoning and self-worth. I write because I am a person, and I have all of these. I want my print on the world to not be one of many forgotten and insignificant prints left behind, but a name remembered for honesty, and ability to question anything and everything.

Our ability to ask the question "why" is more significant to me than our ability to breathe in oxygen and convert it into carbon-dioxide and breathe it out. 

I'm also astounded by ability to have to go to the bathroom and be completely unmotivated to continue this post I was just to ridiculously passionate about. Surprise, surprise. My strong ambitions fall short, and this is the perfect example of why I'm not famous. 

I promise to attempt better consistency.   

The In Between

Most of the time it's difficult to know that we're all human

No one is completely good or bad, but all we see is what we want and nothing more

It's all black and white until you're presented with the grey between

So if all these people aren't as they seem, what is trust even for?

All of this makes withdrawing from society seem so safe 

I don't want to take the time to see beyond all the evil and the cruel

If there's a reason behind it all, then how do I find the middle ground unharmed?

And how can I tell who's the one in control and who's the fool?

Sometimes it's just too hard to continue with hope in sight

How should I interpret the grey behind all of these cold staring eyes?

But we're all victims of manipulation and manipulators in defense

We're all humans with facades, so when would I define what's real and what's the disguise?

And when we're fooled it shouldn't come as a surprise 

Be ever cautious of those who are true, and those who tell lies

And after all of this I still can't go around assuming

Even through betrayal, remember we're all human

The black and white doesn't exist but the in between is just so hard to see

And as I'm judging all of you, all along you've been judging me

All I want is to be free, to trust the world that I cannot avoid

Black and white is easy, and the rest is just to fill a void 

Even if on occasion I feel empty inside 

Just like all of you, the grey, the dark, I attempt to hide

Can someone tell me what's the point if I can't see the intentions as they are?

The truth I want so badly just seems too be so far

I'm not alone in despair 

So why do I still feel like there's no one to be trusted out there?

This all just speculation, maybe I'm the one who's not to trust in the end

I'm the one who's attempting to hide all I have, and that's the message that I send

Maybe I'm the one to which the world should precede with caution,

Maybe I'm the in between to fear

But who am I to tell you what to believe

And trusted or not, it's trivial, I'm just another life existing here

I could tell you anything, it's up to you to find the truth

And if there isn't any who's to say, I'm the only one who would know

So really what's the purpose of even trying to decide

I've got nothing, neither good nor bad, to show

The intentions of every single one of us is all a blur

It just so happens we exist and have no choice but to decide alone what's real and fake

Though it seems unfair to be so scared

And all that counts is not what we give, but what we take

So I choose to reserve myself, and trust no one for my own heart's sake

Even if I hide it all, it's my choice alone

And I will deal with the consequences if I happen to make the mistake

Of excluding myself and causing my own demise

So none of this matters as long as I wear this disguise

Words are cheap, but words are all I have   

Starting Over

I haven't posted in a few years, so consider this post the first of a new blog. I will update more soon. 

Post V

Everything Changes

 A very honest, self-fulfilled woman once told me, "every woman's life changes every 3 months." She went on to explain how a woman must keep up with a certain amount of maintenance in her life to be successful and self-fulfillment will come with routine or schedule of accomplishments. Aside from the context I'm not about to explain, the point that standards must me kept to be a self-fulfilling, or accomplished, or happy woman. Everything in your life can change so drastically within what could seem like a week or a lifetime. 

For example, I don't remember the exact last date I posted, but since then I've discovered I'm pregnant. Actually, I'm about five and half months along. I'm having a baby boy, which I've always secretly wanted more than a girl. The point being my life has done a 360 from a month or two ago. For reasons I didn't know were a threat, I didn't realize until I began to show about four and half months along. 

It's amazing how suddenly you can become an incubator to a human life one of the biggest changes a human can make aside from committing suicide, going into witness protection, getting married or divorced. These things that are both planned and unplanned, pregnancy having a unique ability to be either. I do understand almost every single cliche about pregnancy though, which is really something only after you experience it yourself can you truly understand why they are so overused they become cliches. 

It's been difficult too, of course. Many of my friends I would have seen a few times in the past month have barely spoken much to me. On the other hand, many people I haven't spoken to in long periods of time are coming out of the woodwork to congratulate or give advice to me. There are so many things I'm learning now that it's quite evident on my stomach and my body that I have something fragile and precious stirring inside. He moves. A lot. Much more active than I expected and in a day or two he will be able to kick. 

From a physical perspective, I completely understand why it is not only the hours of labor, but the months of actually harboring a miniature person inside, is held over a child's head when being scorned.

This brings me to another factor of pregnancy: I suddenly have much more appreciation and respect for my mother, who was also pregnant for the first time at 20, and I know she appreciates that. We've become closer in just this past month, it's amazing. I finally understand and respect what she went through to get by as a young mother just for her children. She is an amazing woman that went through thick and thin to give both Sean and I a functional, wholesome childhood. 

Formula I

It's the time to feel invincible, indestructible and intense

Let the journey on a better path be planned and the process to solve commence

It's never been a better moment to wake up, to evolve is the only sense

But before it gets better, it will always get worse like a karmic test for honor's defense

Just remember

Never surrender

Always be faithful

Without being hateful

It's not a higher power

Which makes life sweet or sour

Don't deny your faults

Ignore false insults

Never forget

To learn, not regret

Understand and aware

Indulge here and there

Only if the work

Deserves life's dessert

Always remember

Never surrender

Always be true but especially savor

When life will return a karmic favor

 

Post IV

Anger Man-Age-Ment

I've been talking about my childhood more openly with my mother lately for a few reasons. The nostalgia helps me recall the adoration I had for my mother growing up. She was my hero, and about two years after my parents divorced I began to develop resentment towards her, and I know now those were false. I also feel old enough to look back and recall how I felt, how I was raised, and the many reasons I live my life how I do now that I'm a bit older.

I've been thinking about the anger and angst I held towards damn near everyone, only truly surpassing and repressed the most this recent year. I was a very angry child though, and my temper tantrums grew worse and more dangerous as I grew into my teen years. On occasion I broke many glass and ceramic house hold object against walls, and I destroyed a fairly new cordless house phone one year - against a desk. I'm not even sure who or what made me that angry. There were many marks on my desk and door frames around the house I had made with large kitchen knives, the basement computer chair lost wheels and never worked quite right after I hurled it across the basement only to smash into a wall. I even broke many of my father's CDs by stomping on the jewel cases with my bare feet.

I've always had quite a mouth on me as well. I learned at a young age if I didn't want to take shit from the other kids about my height I would make up for it in words and personality - always the brave kid, not even afraid of the school bullies. They didn't want to be made fun of, no one did, so they stayed on my good side or ignored me all together. It made quite a reputation for me at every school I attended. People knew me either as the funny girl who seemed to be nicer than most - or the bitch who had a vendetta against anyone breathing my air. I only treated anyone who deserved it like shit though. My moto was always: it isn't fair to make fun of someone for anything they can't help, but if they need their own medicine I would be delighted to bring the instant karma.

   

Post III

Goal Setter Is Not My Real Name

Ok, so I know it's been a little while and I promised to post when I could, or at least I promised myself. I tend not to look back at anything I write or I doubt myself as a writer. I truly am my own worst critic. But I do like to re-read the endless amounts of shitty poetry I write until my fingers turn blue just so my crying feels justified. This shit doesn't rhyme or have a good beat to it, so it usually just depresses me. 

Now I'm going to try to set some goals, which I never really did too much of before, and force myself to re-read my stuff so I can remember my goals. I also forget a lot of the promises I make myself. There's only so much I can set my mind too. When I was in community college before I set the goal to lose weight, I had gained a good 40 lbs in the relationship I was in for 2 years previous to that. I was very unhappy and didn't have anywhere to turn, the relationships I had with my mother and brother were stronger after the divorce, and then never the same again after I ended this tragic love story. I did accomplish the goal to lose weight, and then some unfortunately, and ended up under weight because I was so caught up in stepping on that scale to see lower and lower digits.

I set the goal to get back to 115 lbs, and at about three quarters of a year later I hit 110. Then 100, then 95, and finally down to 90. Though it sounds frightening, I am only 4'11" to give you a better idea a medically healthy range is 100 lbs - 120 lbs. I was only 10 under, but it looked worse. I was just bones, I had gone down a cup size in the chest, and my spine began to raise the skin on my back. It took me another year or so to realize I looked slightly sick, though most people only mentioned I had lost weight since high school. 

It was until I made up with my very close friend since childhood, Kaitlyn. Though we were only a week or two apart in birthdays, I always felt like she was a big sister to me, always being one of the few brave enough to tell me when I wasn't doing the right thing or anything that was wrong or unsettling. It was her bravery that told me I looked sick, and I needed to put the weight back on. I had reached my goal and then continued, and nothing like that is good in abundance. I had to admit to myself I had become anorexic, which was never an addictive behavior I thought I would pick up - I was always a little chubby due to the high fat diet I was on from birth. I learned to eat sugar and carbs leaving me always slightly plump, or "healthy" as my mother and her family would say. 

If I didn't have Kaitlyn to stand up to my face when she noticed, I would have kept going and knowing that Anorexia leads to heart problems and in untreated eventually death, I know I couldn't have ended up anywhere good. I could've ended up like a close friend Mikayla, who is now spending her 3rd year in a half-way home. Addicted to stimulants and making herself vomit or skipping meals altogether, Mikayla has burned most of the bridges in her life and a lot of hope for her improvement is no longer there. I know very well she had an influence, cheering me on as I lost weight, but because I was used to being hungrier, I lost touch with my stomach and all the amazing food I used to eat and placed the importance on seeing those numbers drop.

Since that goal, I am very reluctant to begin a new diet, hoping I don't lose sight of reality again and overwork myself. I am usually able to disassociate myself from issues so that I can be objective, but setting a goal to me is very similar as to when I fall in love: I am very able to lose sight in what is good or right for me, and I tend to rely on what feels good, engaging in risky behavior and unable to see the truth in that situation. That is why I am learning to be reluctant with love as well.. I'm not sure I know love but I know what it isn't, and that's a good start.

Back to the goals, I'm still trying to decide what to even set. A 1 to 5 year plan? A day by day schedule? A bi-annual event? I suppose the next time I'll actually set them, and for now I will just brainstorm what is important at this time in my life, and what I need to be doing to get where I want to go.

First thing is first: I am going back to school this fall, no exceptions. I will continue my path in psychology as originally planned, and after I get my A.A. I can think about more specialization and when I complete my B.A. I can set my heart to it. I want to go towards abnormal psychology, it is a hell of a lot more interesting and challenging. Once you know psychology, abnormal psychology opens up the door to all the anomalies that can occur due to genetics, environment, and everything in between. I really like brain mapping and neurology. It's very interesting, all the stimuli you can use to create reactions in someone's brain. Or neural-nets, implanted in a specific region of a brain to stimulate new neural-pathways creating new emotions, sensations, perceptions, consciousness, and behaviors. There are so many things that neural-nets can fix or help to accomplish. If I could keep a steady hand, I would have gone towards neurosurgeon. 

What next? I would like to set the goal to be a more tidy person. And maybe lose the weight I put back on since resisting to urge to skip a meal every time I'm hungry. I did damage my stomach a bit in the process, leaving me with a stomach ulcer, and consistent aches and nausea. 

I also need to set a goal to be healthier in general, and stop ignoring what my body tells me. I am so used to basing my perceptions on my emotional attachments, I must begin to think more with my body sensations. When I do not ignore them, they are strong and exhausting, but I am hyper sensitive and am able to tell when the pressure changes in the air and even when something inhuman emerges. These things I have claimed to be more curse than blessing, but I suppose my strange ability is what makes me very good at psychology and studying people in general. I like science and medicine as well, so biology comes easily as well. It's truly astonishing what our bodies and minds are capable of and what inconsistencies they also do create in accordance to damage, genetic quirks, environment, learned, resistance to changes or adaptions. There are so many factors, and every single one of them are so important, and are so relevant in my life so I'd like to make the knowledge more available. This in turn could provide a more general understanding of ourselves so that we can then understand each other, and who knows what kind of revelations that could bring. I want society to be much more informed of things more relevant to their lives and the lives of those around them. Life could be slightly less restricted and more pleasant. Even introverts can adapt to other people, and maybe pathology would not be so easily adaptable to fit their needs and keep narcissistic goals and inability to feel remorse hidden. These are only dreams. I could be stuck in a lab for the rest of my life, living to collaborate statistics and research to form laws or processes over time. 

I want most of all to be happy. And now that I've had my time away, I know it is what I want and realize it is the only thing that will fulfill my heart in case I never marry. I will always have my career, and I have to make myself happy before I can even be true to someone else in a commitment. Scholastic desires are always more realistic to me, and it keeps my interest where as people become dull and sour.

So I suppose I did set a large goal with all those small possibilities along the way. I also want to be happy. That is my unspoken truest desire that I need to focus on more clearly: to be happy without substance or person to fill my addictions void. I want to be addicted to education like I was in the last year or two of high school. I want to live for the rush of learning new concepts or discovering even newer personal philosophies.

Post II

Dissociate is all I Know

Given the news that I have the genetic markers, and I suppose enough to make it possible for me to actually to be later diagnosed with lupus. This is not the first time I've been given bad news by a doctor, only I've already been diagnosed with genetic afflictions that I've been dealing with and I don't want to count or do the figures and guess just when I'll have to start worrying about this. I feel like shit now. Can we do something about that?

In the past 6 months, I have been to the urgent care facility at least 4 times (i will not go to the hospital or they will 4th floor me), my regular physician about six times, two other doctors when my regular physician was out, and a rheumatoid and inner medicine doctor. I've had blood test up to maybe eight times, one of them consisting of 27 blood tests and all I could give them was 7 1/2 viles of blood. I've had ultrasounds two or three times, and three or four x-rays of different body parts.

I'm 20 years old. I wake up feeling like I'm 60 every morning. I get cold easily, I take medicine that has permanently damaged my stomach lining, I put on and take off weight every month, I don't get my period, I constantly ache, I catch infections like I've got no immune system, and these are just the things caused by my life style caused by my genetic afflictions. 

It's a vicious cycle.

I have Bipolar II Disorder with a side of Panic Disorder, Acute Agoraphobia, and many addictive behaviors qualifying as a disease. Insomnia, occasionally when I'm not over-sleeping, and I am currently Depressed. I'm usually depressed. I get Hypo-mania more than I have manic episodes.. woo. 

Because of this I live my life far differently than any of my friends, my family members or really most people I have ever met. It's really hard for me to get close to others now, though I used to be a social butterfly. Now I'd just people rather not see me like this.. 

I do go out though, and usually it's on the occasion I have enough energy to find something to satisfy my drug and or alcoholic habits, and that's enough for me. 

I dissociate myself from almost every situation I come across, or at least that's what I was used to up until about the time I turned 20. This past year all I've done is self-reflect, self-analyze and try to be better.. but I'm still trying to figure out what "better" is to me.

Post I

What You Can Expect From My Posts

This blog is for me, the rest of you are by standers, honestly, and I don't mean that in any sense of hierarchy: I mean more than you and in my blog I'm the boss so whatever I say goes, damn it, and you will be my minions! No, it's just when I can't draw or paint (especially when I have no other form of income currently) I like to express myself through writing. If I can stay out of trouble, and keep away from all of those terrible little things that people try to hide from their loved ones and co-worker and closest friends (if they can and usually aren't good at for long), I'm going to try. I'd rather not get arrested again, it's the one that get's me a go straight to jail card, and I'm no the jail type. I'm an artsy, sarcastic, bipolar anomaly. I would hope to god that my talking, which has gotten me out of so many situations before, would be my only hope of salvation.

So, in this blog, you can't truly expect much but you can hope to see a lot. My father is a writer, quite a good one too but I would never use his name to get anywhere, and though I know I'm a good one, I only fallow in his footsteps for pleasure not for a living as well. And I'm not going to school for communications, I'm a psychology major (go figure). He is pushing me to write an auto-biography, though, which I admire the thought of my life on pages to help me get it out but so far this is what I'm doing. I'm hoping that me getting out the things I go through, and the crazy self-analysis that anyone who knows me well enough can agree too, I do it quite often and quite well for someone who can be rather irrational. It's the after-the-fact situation where I disassociate myself and can become my own therapist. My therapist would like me to leave it to him, but he doesn't blame me for doing a good job while he's not around.

For anyone who does come upon this blog, I hope you enjoy and appreciate the life I live and the problems at hand, my next post, which I'm sure will come quickly, will be more personal, rather than explaining to you what this whole thing was started for. I just wanted to give a clue, if it helped, which I'm sure it left you more confused - I do it to myself a lot, on what you can expect.

This is meandering. I am Megan.