The hardest thing for anyone with -any- “invisible” disability, mental or physical, seems to me to be that no one really believes it. As long as you are doing badly, dark days, physical issues, pain…it’s fine. But just as soon as you manage to drag yourself up from the bottom, it all of a sudden becomes a commonplace. Not a struggle well rewarded, but merely “Why didn’t you do that before?”.
They hold “normal people” up to you as if they were some goal that you are supposed to aspire to. “Normal people take daily showers. Normal people are social. Normal people…” Normal people can kiss my ass. I can’t think of anything I’d less rather be than “normal”. Normal people watch politics, reality shows, commercial/cable tv…and -enjoy- it! Normal people are “too old for cartoons”, even anime. Normal people believe everything someone posts on FaceBook, even when the same picture has been used a thousand times to solicit help for so many different causes no one can even remember what the original was. Normal people watch sports…well, the guy half, anyway. Normal people don’t take medications unless they have a cold, or they’re over 50. Normal people don’t collect “toys” from their favorite series or books. Normal people don’t read speculative fiction, unless it’s romantic, and then it’s ok.
Let’s pause on that one for a second…never mind that, as the quote almost said “it’s like having an affair with a cheese sandwich”…never mind the uber-teen-angst aspect…never mind all that. Since when did the paranormal/supernatural turn into todays fantasy romance? Not dissing the goth thing. Far from it. Full-fledged Fairy Goth right here. But seriously, people? Vampires and Werewolves in love triangles with poor confused women…notice that it’s almost -never- a human -male- having to choose between the woodsy, outdoorsy, sexy-feral wolf-chick and the sophisticated, refined, sexy-dangerous vamp-chick. Hmm. Maybe I should write one. Or mix it up. Gay vampire is a thing…and lord knows that Were’s and Bears would hit it off…so a confused young queer boy who doesn’t understand why both sides are attractive to him? *giggle* No, luckily for the world of Para-Romance I have more self-respect than that. ;p Besides, according to “rule whatever-it-is” it’s bound to be already out there. >.>
Ok, Wild Tangent exercised, now back to the original rant. It’s just frustrating to be the only one telling me how well I’m doing, and having to lift myself by my own bootstraps, figuratively speaking. And it’s downright painful to have people accuse me of not being sick, now that I’m doing better. Hard enough swimming upstream without the folks around me pouring poison in the water and strengthening the current by weakening me. I know all the explanations: “They’re jealous. They’re afraid you won’t need them. They need to be needed, so they sabotage.” Bull. In my case, while the first might be barely possible, it’s accompanied by so much straight out hate and paranoia that “unintentional sabotage” isn’t an operative phrase…it’s closer to “deliberate malfeasance”. Frustrating? Try infuriating, especially since there’s not a blessed thing I can do about it, not having that sort of temperament, little say the physical, psychological or emotional -ability- for that sort of nonsense. *shrug*
So yeah. It’s almost 5 in the morning, I haven’t written a word in weeks, haven’t even opened my laptop to play games…why should I, I have my phone for that? And so my brain rots slowly away, and my “curious appetites” get…well, curiouser and curiouser, if you’ll excuse the misquote. ;p So I get on tonight, for various reasons, and start looking at craft things. >.< Doh. Sooo many new toys!!! I need all the pretties and shinies! Mia and I are in a constant tug-of-war over all the bright beads and moldable plastics and jello-molds (No, dear heart, we need to actually -use- the ones we’ve bought before we can -maybe- justify buying more…no, not even the 100 count silicone gummi bear mold with the special dropper, I’m sorry. ;p) and so on, until I’m left to wonder…how in all the special hells of Hel do “normal folks” manage to keep from going insane and running ferret-shock through the internetz screaming “Shut up and take my money!”?
Also, is insanity different from creativity, and if so, how? Discuss. ;p
This is now over 700 words long, in case anyone is interested, and since I love you all to distraction…I’m gonna go and stop distracting you. Don’t worry, though…I’ll be back with more whinging and complaining and maybe, possibly, although don’t count on it, some actual creative work. Like a poem or story or something. Not just me/us rambling. Oh, and just in case it isn’t clear or you’re just tuning in to the Kyotzeta Channel…there’s only one of me. Promise. I’m BPD (or whatever new buzz-word they’re calling it now…;p) not MPD/DD. I just happen to have unusually talkative inner voices that refuse to stay inner, and since I’m my own best company, why the Hel not?
TTYL, my internetz!
KC, Mia, et al.
A Doll is a Doll, no matter how small,
or a Bride, no matter how tall,
and a sweet british dude
who knows how to be rude,
is the very best Thing of all!
the flat cat has a hat
he throws it at the silly bat
because the bat it squashed him flat
and sat on top of his new hat
the car goes far under the star
the star looks down to see the car
the car stops at the soda bar
and then it goes on far and far
the silly fox sits in a box
until the man comes with the locks
and locks the box up with the fox
because the fox stole all his socks
the sad bear lives at the fair
and dances in the sticky air
and wishes he was out of there
and back at home in his warm lair
the little bug lives in the rug
in a hole he dug and dug
and gives his family a great big hug
because they live there nice and snug
milk in a cup
in my dream
a sea of rubber ducks
and a soap iceberg
a way to tell the future
are dogs soothsayers?
fleas in summer
on one tail, an itch unending
on three tails, hell on earth
trees in the wind
for me to chase
Again with the silly…;p
The third one got honorable mention. We’ll have to see if we can do better next time. 😉
A young man who was rather urbane,
had a sister that some called “insane”,
when crude folks would jeer
he would speak in their ear;
“Careful, she can kill with her brain…”
(If you haven’t watched Joss Whedons “Firefly” series yet, or the movie “Serenity”, the above won’t mean much…but it makes sense in that context, believe me.)
A rich lass who was rather urbane,
enjoyed taking long walks in the rain,
but when summer was dry,
not a cloud in the sky,
she’d make do with a shower of Champagne.
A man who was rather urbane,
from drinking would often abstain,
when friends asked him why,
he would say, with a sigh,
“Well, the shakes make me spill my cocaine.”
why do they say that morning has broken,
when the deep velvet sky slowly changes its hue?
is it because, like heavens own breakfast,
the bright yolk of daytime comes pouring through?
rain in the morning, a spatter of droplets
singing a song as it meets with the dew,
or is that the sizzle of celestial bacon..
what? am I hungry? not really…are -you-??