Month: September 2015

I hope you’re out there somewhere safe. I hope you’ve taken a nice, hot shower and put on clean clothes. I hope you’ve eaten and had enough water for the night. I even hope whoever you’re with lets you stay the night so that you can get a good night’s sleep. Not really. I actually don’t care at this point. You called me this morning after not having heard anything from you in a year or so. I stopped everything I was doing just to pay attention to you. You were crying so hard that I could only make out one or two words until I was able to calm you down to where you could listen and make sense. You hadn’t eaten in two days. You had nowhere to stay. You had no money.

You told me what was going on. I already knew. I had already figured out what game you were playing and I had told you that. I didn’t know about the fight with grandpa. He’s an asshole. He’s mean, cruel and irrational, but you know that and you know how to avoid it. If he did knock or push grandma down and come at you with a baseball bat (yes, he’s done the same to me) you should’ve called the cops on him and let them sort it out rather than getting into an altercation. My father is not capable of rational thought and can’t see further than black or white. He simply reacts violently. For some reason, that’s all he knows how to do, except toward your father. I suppose he sees himself in your father and doesn’t want to confront his own demons. It’s easier to blame them on mom.

It took me two hours to calm your ass down enough to where you were thinking rationally again. I assured you that I wasn’t judging you bc that’s not what I do. I only wanted to help you. I was concerned about three, and only three, things: food, shelter and whether or not you were a harm to yourself or others. I didn’t care about a job or about what happened with grandpa or any of that. I only wanted to make sure that your basic needs were being met. I didn’t even care about your emotional wellbeing, even though you made a big fuss about it.

You told me first that you were at Walmart because you had to charge your phone. I directed you to a soup kitchen that you could’ve easily made it to before they closed for lunch. At the same time, I was IMing grandma to see whether or not she would come pick you up and take you to her house. She really wanted to but grandpa wasn’t having it. So, as I continued to talk you down and talk to you, I searched for shelters in Kenton, Bellefontaine, Marion, Lima and Findlay. I finally got mom to agree to take you to a shelter at least.

By this time, you told me that you were at an apartment complex in Kenton. Both are on the north side of town, so I had an approximate location to give her. You told me where you were and I asked you to stay there until she got there to pick you up and take you to the shelter. You agreed to stay and we hung up. A few minutes later, I told you that she was on her way. I didn’t get a response. Meanwhile, grandma had gone to where you were supposed to be to look for you. About a half an hour later, I noticed you on FB and sent you another message about your phone being dead and asking you where you were. You had probably missed grandma, but I’d see what I could do if I had an address.

Imagine my surprise when you told me that you had gone to a friend’s house and you’re phone had been charged. Imagine how I felt when you told me that you had found somewhere to ‘kick it.’ I’m still suffering greatly from this morning and I’m absolutely sure that 1) you don’t remember anything about it and 2) you wouldn’t give a fuck if you did. What I forgot to tell you is that we actually contacted the police department and the sheriff’s office to be on the lookout for you because you’re suicidal and a threat to yourself and others. I sincerely hope they can keep you locked up for 72 hours.

As for me, please don’t call me again. I expended all the energy I could on you and may still have to go to the ER tonight. You’ve ripped my heart out and smashed it and I don’t recover from that easily. I was your last line of defense and you’ve now burned that bridge too. I really do hope someone is there to help you pick up the pieces because it won’t be me.

Uncle Mike

We returned to the diverging paths between the happy, warm world that I had created as Nydia’s child. {left} I am loved, adored, wanted and safe. I cry and someone, everyone comes to see what I need. I’m allowed to explore my new world and all sorts of new contact, humans and animals. When it’s time to eat, Nydia and my sisters take turns feeding me. I’m everyone’s child. Nydia sings to me and cuddles me and touches me all over just to reassure me that I belong to her and by extension everyone else in the house. She puts me down to sleep between her and Luís and hums quietly until I’m asleep. If I murmur, one wakes to see what I need. Sometimes, they put me in my own bed too, but it’s not like it was. I can see them and it’s quiet. I sleep peacefully, until I need something. I cry and one of them gets up and feeds or changes or rocks me back to sleep. My life here is safe and comfortable. I have no worries, but something is tugging on my right side. Something doesn’t feel quite right and the picture elongates much like the Starship Enterprise does before it goes into warp speed. Something is pulling me the the right. Something I don’t know and something I’m afraid of.

I don’t like it here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to do this again. I remember the curtain. I remember the little box with the rubber hands. I remember the little crib that filled and emptied and filled and emptied while I stayed. Nydia was the only constant. I don’t know this place. I only know the {left). This void scares me. My little arms and hands and legs and feet are flailing all to get back to what I know and what I’m comfortable with, familiar with {left), but it keeps moving away and I’m being dragged farther and farther into this dark place that I don’t recognize. As the light fades, I stop fighting. My hands, arms, legs and feet stop moving and go cold. My body shuts down. This keeps happening. This is the third or fourth time now that I’ve been ripped away from the only things I’ve known, good {left} or bad. My tiny proto-self isn’t able to withstand too much more.

I lazily gaze toward the direction I’m headed. {right} I see a faint light. I’m headed toward that faint light and I can’t stop myself. I look back left and see only a pin-prick of my little yellow home {left} and a tear forms in the corner of my eye and drifts effortlessly into the void. I don’t like the void. I don’t know it. It’s dark and unfamiliar. It’s cold and impersonal, but it has a certain warmth and appeal to it. In the void there are no expectations. There are no disappointments. I’m a baby. I’m less than 6 months old and have been disappointed many times already. I force myself to stop somewhere in the middle of the void and look around. There’s nothing. I feel nothing. There’s no hot, no cold, nothing. No happy, no sad, nothing. No anger. Just nothingness. I decide that I want to stay in the nothingness. I want it to envelope me. I want it to protect me. In the nothingness, I’ll be invisible and I’ll never be pulled away from anything again.

The unfamiliar light starts tugging at me again and you can’t hold on to nothingness {void}. I look back home {left} and can just barely make out the little yellow start from where I came. I’m moving faster and the big, brash white light is quickly getting nearer. {right} I’m tired. I don’t want to play this game anymore. I close my eyes and shut down again. {right}

I sense that I’ve stopped moving. I’m being held, but it’s not the same way. It’s not the same touch. I feel fingertips on my skin. I don’t know them. They don’t belong to {left}. They’re cooler, somehow. I feel a finger in my little hand and it’s the same sensation. The touch is not the same. Maybe my body is just protecting itself from being rejected again. I look up and see different faces, less round, more oval shaped. One has brown eyes, like {left} but not as big and not as bright. The other has clear, cold eyes that I’ve never seen before. I go back to sleep while they talk to someone else.

I wake up momentarily and realize that I’m not being held. I cry and the one with brown eyes turns around and tries to quiet me. The cold eyed one grumbles a little because I should be asleep. I’m used to being held and not being in a box. I also know that I’m moving, but I don’t understand how. There’s a stop and then moving again. I’m completely confused and start to scream because I don’t know what else to do. The cold-eyed one stops the cage and the brown-eyed one gets in the back with me to soothe me. The cage starts moving again. The brown-eyed on touches me and sings, kind of like {left}, but different. It was still soothing. I try looking left and the little yellow dot that was my home had vanished. {Left} was gone and I knew instinctively that something wasn’t quite right about {right}.

Now, 46 years later, I stand at the top of a pyramid. I see and partially experienced  {left} and I went through all of {right}. I see where some of the links are. I see what could’ve been had I been able to grow up {left}. I see all of the little tragedies flayed out nicely by my experience growing up {right}. I don’t see the void at the bottom of the the pyramid that hold the whole thing together because I don’t exist in that space.

Brian came in for the long weekend. I was, of course, really happy to see him. I was a little nervous bc I had gotten the tat and hadn’t said anything about it to him. He knew I had been thinking about one, but he didn’t actually think that I’d go out and have one done. He liked it and he appreciated the story behind it and what it represented to me. I was very happy. We met good friends out that night in the burbs for sushi. It’s a good place and it’s always fun to get together with Major and Sharenda. When we got home, we started thinking about what to do tomorrow. Our friends, Edward and Joey, texted us and told us they they’d be in Vegas tomorrow afternoon and they we should meet them there. Beautiful, we though. It’s a four hour drive, no big deal. (Especially for me, since I don’t drive.)

Saturday morning, I’m feeling fine, 3-4, and into the car we go. Great shots. Beautiful scenery. Brian learned that the desert isn’t deserted. We went through a forest of Joshua trees. That was kinda creepy, but beautiful at the same time.

We got to Vegas, check in and quickly heard from Ed and Joey. I had never seen downtown Vegas, so I wanted to stay around the Plaza and Freemont street. They, however, insisted that we go to Sam’s Town and meet them. They didn’t have a car and didn’t want to take a taxi. We saw them and I gave both a big hug and kiss bc I hadn’t seen them since I left for Phoenix. Ed was happy to see me. Joey, who knows. We played a few games and had a few drinks and then Brian and I went off for dinner. My headache had been steadily climbing since arriving in Vegas, but I though the drugs would hold it constant. I forgot to take anything with me to Sam’s Town and that was dumb on my part.

After dinner, they invited us up to see their suite. My cluster had gone full blown by this time and everyone knew it. I couldn’t even open my right eye. They made me a vodka whatever and I drank it. Then it was off to the Cannery for more smoke, lights and booze (luckily I was on a winning streak with the Wonder Woman slot game, so that distracted me.) Finally, it was off to the Boulder. We weren’t there 20 before I had to leave. Of course Joey wanted to stay longer, but since we took them, they had to come with us.

We took them back to Sam’s Town. Boo hoo hoo, I hope you feel better. Bye, and they were off. I didn’t care. I wanted meds. Brian and I got back to the hotel and he helped me back to the room. He protects me when I’m that bad. I grabbed the Norflex and shot it. I took my night meds and an extra tranq and couldn’t sleep. I didn’t fall asleep until around 2:30 and woke up around 8:30.

We met Ed and Joey at Sam’s Club again for brunch. It was nice. The place has decent food. The waitress is very nice to us because we’ve been there before and she remembers us. The champagne flowed all through out brunch. Something still wasn’t right. I woke up better, but the level of the headache was still a five or higher. It didn’t take long and Bam! I looked at Brian and asked him if it was 10:3ish. It was. Edward asked me a question and I said yes. It’s the 10:30 express. I need some red bull to try to stop it. Joey of course lectured me that they couldn’t come on a schedule like that and that red bull wouldn’t do anything. Brian just looked at him. We couldn’t get any from the waitress, so I waited another 1/2 until we left the dining room. Brian took me straight to the Gold Fish games bc the music tends to calm me down. He gave me the red bull and someone lit up right beside me. That ended gold fish.

I had to get out of the lights and sounds and smoke and everything, so I led Brian to the inner courtyard. I tried sitting down, but I couldn’t do that either. The pain was quickly passing to 8-9. I don’t know how many times I staggered around the outside track of that stupid thing. I know a second failed red bull attempt was tried, but this time, I had my meds and took a thorazine and a xanax with champagne.

Brian instinctively knew that we had to go. He asked and my face told him everything he needed to know. I apologized, but he told me not to. There wasn’t anything anyone could do about it. He understands.

We didn’t know exactly where Ed and Joey had gotten off to. I knew that they had gone to talk with one of Ed’s cousins who works in the Casino. They had also gone to show someone else their room. They were also talking about going to the pool. Once they finally showed up, Joey told Brian just to sit me at Wonder Woman and let me play. They had something they needed to show him. Brian did, but he didn’t go far. I was so confused during that period that I lost all of the money I had won the night before. He came back with ‘I don’t know what the fuck they’re doing, but I have to get you back to Phoenix.’ They came back and we said goodbye to an ‘aw shucks, I hope you feel better.’ (Yeah me too, now get my fat ass to the car.)

I hate the fact that the clusters sent me packing. I hate the fact that the clusters once again changed Brian and my plan for the weekend. I hate that it does things like that, but I can’t control it. What I loathe more is fake concern or sincerity. Joey tell me that you think this whole thing is faked and I’m doing it for attention. Tell me that cluster headaches don’t exist. Tell me that it’s all in my mind and that if I’d go to a social worker like you I’d be cured. Tell me that. You’ve seen me in one of the most violent attacks I’ve ever had. You had no fucking clue what to do with me. You weren’t even smart enough to have Michelle call 911 just in case I was having a stroke or something. It was obvious that I was in distress and in physical pain beyond what you can imagine. Please, don’t ask me about my battle scar. You, as well as everyone who knows me, knows that the last thing I would ever do is get a tattoo. Don’t ask the story behind it, how it is and/or what it represents. Don’t ask why I chose this specific image of the thousands that exist. You are white trash masquerading as someone who is trying to be educated. It won’t take long before you either burn out or self destruct. I will not help you put the pieces together, but I will happily watch.

Edward. Fuck you. This time, really. Fuck you! We’ve helped each other through some really big crises and it hasn’t always been fun over the years. The whole going to prison thing and me not really finding out the truth about how much you really did know until the end, well, that was a little more than I bargained for. I visited you twice in prison in the middle of nowhere in South Dakota. Once, we even brought your mother, RIP. Your mother drove me insane with her OCD and inappropriate questions. We live in the same fucking city and I’ve been inpatient 15 times since 2007 and you’ve not visited me once, Once! I know you don’t like hospitals. I don’t like prisons, but I visited you. Francis even came from PR and NYC to visit me, but you haven’t visited once. It’s not even real hospital. We walk around in mostly PJs or exercise clothes with IV poles connected to us, but we’re free to go where we want on the floor if we’re able to. I understand that Christman was a kinda wedge between us. I knew he would be. I didn’t so much want to take him in because I liked him. I took him in bc you broke our steam cleaner over his head. One of the two of you would’ve been in jail for homicide had you stayed in the same house. I was thrilled when he moved back to Ohio.

Francis. My precious Francis. Yeah, you probably get it now. Francis is the best friend I have. You actually made that happen. You left him with a steaming pile of shit before you went away that had nothing to do with him. You knew you were going away and didn’t do what you needed to. You left it all up to him. Francis did the best he could and it wasn’t good enough for you or your mom. No, I gave the fucking violin to Pat because it would’ve rotted in the basement. Francis didn’t even know that violin was there and who the fuck would want a box of whigs?

Yes. Francis stole money from you. Yes, Francis stole drugs from you. Yes, Francis blah, blah, blah. How many things did he do for you that he didn’t have to?  Paint the condo so it could be sold? Return the kegs from the party? Repaint the hole where you had the party? That was all your responsibility. I wouldn’t have done any of it.

He knew my best friend in the world was in prison. He consoled me. He listed to my pointless stories from school with interest, whether he wanted to or not, Yeah, he continued to steal money and drugs, until I put a stop to a certain drug he was stealing. Eventually, he did realize he had a problem and turned to NA/AA. He’s clean now. It’s hard for him, but he’s clean. I’m proud of him. He’s turned his life around. You’re stuck on $500, some drugs and a box of whigs. He’s getting a BA and will be done in a year or so. Joey, although, laughs it off because no one’s as important as he is and Francis could only counsel kids. I told him that Francis does, the ones with one foot in jail and the other barely in school. Your hubby shut up. You need to shut up about him too and let him atone like he has for everyone else.

I’m ecstatic that after so many years you’ve got your life back online. You stayed at our house for two of those years as we helped you from halfway house to home. You do things like that for friends. I guess I’m just frustrated because once Joey walked into your life, the rest of your friends have been kind of pushed out. That might be something for you to consider.

I wasn’t happy with your reaction to my cluster either. You were at ‘Chicks too. You know even more than Joey what they do. You’ve seen them over a longer period of time. I guess it’s easier not to deal with anything you don’t want or have to deal with other than to say uh oh or oopsie.

Unfortunately, for me now, it Muere, Muere Las Vegas and possibly keeping both of you at an arms length.

I’m sitting in a tat parlor waiting for my fiery battle scar. I’ve been thinking about this for the past two years. I finally decided it was time. I picked the image, chose the place and boom. It’s happening. I can’t wait to see what it looks like on the other side. It’s the outward face of my pain.

The face of my pain has appeared on the outside of my body. I subjected myself to 6 hours of exquisite pain today and came out on the other end just fine. This was not pain that my body inflicted on me. I inflicted this pain on my clusters, my migraines, my daily chronic headaches and my narcolepsy. They’ve taken so much away from me and it was time to tell them to stop! Enough was enough. I have my first battle scar. The pain can be seen on the outside of my body, but that pain, I control. I cause and I initiate. It is my own pain. It was amazing. At times it caused my scalp to pulsate uncontrollably. I’m not sure how it happened, but it was unusual. Other times, the needles hardly bothered me. Most of the time, I was able to control the pain through biofeedback breathing exercises. Most important, I controlled this pain. It did not control me. My pain has two faces now. It will always come. I can’t stop that, but I will make it leave.