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~Hurricane Katrina~ Chapter 1~ My novel 1017 Cypress Street~

The buzz of dread filled the atmosphere. A storm like Katrina hadn’t come this close and been this strong in years and it was strengthening to a Catagory 5…. A storm of such magnitude can change everything instantly.
With heavy laden feet and numb heart she got up and began getting ready for work, the weather channel could be heard in the background as she leaned in closer to the mirror applying mascara, eyes sallow, concern washed over her and she looked disheveled worrying about what was going to take place. All eyes in the world were waiting to see where Katrina would land. Mississippi or Louisiana.
Idly she stood with a catatonic stare. She did not feel like working yet she stood next to the Lancôme counter leaning against it, watching people just moving around like ants shopping all smeared faces of strangers, rich women who could wear her patients thin because a shade of lipstick was not exactly the same shade of their purse and shoes they just bought. It was a good job, she was just tired of retail and marketing.
Fate and the fate of her son and a final location to take root and live were all resting on the storm. 

Beyond the present state of the earthly forces, She had recently partnered with her ex husband to help raise her son, that alone was a gamble, one she took. She wouldn’t let Donnell hurt her or their child. Later on she’ll wish she had taken thought long and hard before making any decisions, however Katrina wasn’t going to give up any more time. 
Katrina had its eye on Biloxi, and she staid her course. Although Biloxi was hit worse, New Orleans being a bigger city received more news coverage due to the levees breaking and the floods, continual rain were all turning New Orleans into a nightmare. 
After making it through 5 hours of work she was finally headed home. Her heels clicked with each step as she neared her car in the parking garage Her cell phone rang as she was getting into her car , She answered to hear her Mom on the other line. “honey listen, I need you to find my boys make sure they’re alright” her Mom said as she cried. She thought “Her boys”…. She must have tucked her siblings into the back of her mind. “What boys?” She asked. “Your brothers honey” “I know you can’t remember you were to young but you have 4 brothers”…. She was Floored when she heard that news. Brothers! Finally she spoke “ok Mom I’ll see what I can do, but I need names and a place to

Start looking.” “Look for Labello’s Auto” it’s a car shop one of your brothers had” try there”.
So now plot thickens She has 4 brothers she has no recollection of a storm that’s a killer hitting land. The likely hood of finding her “brothers” whom she never met or can’t remember meeting would be thin since most all her Mom’s children had different Dads.
Slowly as the storm bared down on land she could feel an ache in her belly. So much is going to change very fast She just could feel it. 

A storm of this magnitude is going to rearrange her life and the lives of many others,how symbolic it was the storm, a methrphor of her unyielding, continually shocking tail of what is her life. Things churn in storms. Storms stir up lives and deaths and sometimes life and death are straight ahead but you never knew it. Ghost hidden come out to play. Her “brothers” were a fine example of ghost coming out to play.

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(Excerpt of My Novel) ~1017 Cypress Street~Based on actual events~Edited~

She felt her life was always a puzzle piece and the puzzle couldn’t completely be found. Personal wars and scars she endured from early childhood.Her life never yielded a dull moment. The sense of the bottom dropping out always lived in the back of her mind, but she pressed on and tried to control the feeling that haunted her.

She was excited at the thought of her new home, although it was an older home she would carve it out and make a home for her and her family. The pool was a big selling point, she loved to swim, was always drawn to water. Calmed the storm that seemed to always be slightly to the left of her thoughts, tucked away.
The moment she walked through the front door the house seemed to welcome her, feed on her energy… It was as though the two would be as one. Never did she think about departure……..her having to leave this home,after all she was going to buy it.

Now the house sits quietly never keeping anyone there long. It was her house, but he made her leave. 

Parts of her loss haunts the halls of that house… It will forever cry for her return. Forever warning her of the evil intent that lurks across the street.

Years have gone by but for her it feels like yesterday, with the blink of her eye and a deep breath she is back there, a part of her is back there back at the house.

As her eyes remain closed she remembers how it felt ….Jumping effortlessly into the beautiful pool late at night her body completely covered only by the water. Right across the street he watched her,captivated. Intrigued. 

Quickly as though a jolt of energy sent shock waves through her body, her eyes blink open to her present reality one that’s never been the same since that house since she met him. 
She didn’t have a clue that her life was building up to that moment, a moment that could kill the very essesnse of all the good she had in her, change her forever leaving her a shell of the women she once was.

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~The Depressive Side of Bipolar~

There are two modes of bipolar 1, as well as bipolar 2. In fact in all bipolar diagnosis you have two modes. Some of the bipolar labels have mixed modes which means being hypo manic and depressed at the same time.

I can remember clearly at the beginning of my diagnosis waking up feel grand happy, beyond happy, only to feel like suicide may be the only answer later in the day.
I’ve written a piece of what a manic episode feels like. I’m going to try to give you what the depressive episode feels like.
Unlike depression which is another form of mental illness, bipolar depression although similar is more severe.
So let’s begin. Please keep in mind these are my experiences.
It’s a subtle sneaky liar that begins softly in the mind, growing into a monster within hours. The littlest things can evoke tears and regrets and fears that on a scale of 1-10 it’s an 11. Which means it’s beyond the norm,
What I mean by littlest thing is the catalyst can be just the loss of something, something you feel certain you put there, such as a book or a your shoes. Why surely I remember clearly that’s where I put them!
Truth be told I just think that. Because later the item will be found. The item may often be very close by where I thought I put it, and as though I have blinders on I simply am not registering it’s right in front of me.
This begins the tail spin,then thoughts begin, you know all the reasons why everything is not right how could it be I absolutely know where I put this item, this thing.Obviously I didn’t. It seemed as though I did put it there, not the case.
The thoughts continue and start to make me feel stupid hopeless and disillusioned by all injustice I feel exist in the world.
Next my thoughts take me to what I like to call the exit door. The exit door is basically suicide. Thoughts seem to rationalize that being non existent will solve all problems I’m incurring. Not being around anymore I don’t have a meltdown and this sounds like a good idea, or at least at the moment it does.
I will lay down and begin what call the stages of loss. Anger, disappointment, the “Why me” syndrome, finally arriving at the fact that I’m afraid. Afraid of what you ask? The unknown, the lack of courage to carry out the task of going through the exit door. Yes, I just used the word courage. I wrote a long piece of why suicide takes courage. In order to understand you would not only need to read that piece, but be me, think like me.
This mode can last for only hours, a day, sometimes days. Then just like a snap of a finger abracadabra bam it’s all good again, life is ok and onward I go.
Normal reaction by those not afflicted with bipolar reach depressive states in extreme loss. Loss such as death of a loved one, a terminal illness that will take a life quickly ( by the way bipolar is indeed a terminal illness and can indeed take life away) a loss of a pet, breaking up with a lover or spouse, losing a job, these are a few examples. However for me and my reaction the normal (by the way define normal…. Yeah exactly) reaction is I thrive under real pressure or loss.
My experience with the lows of bipolar may differ from yours, I’m here to share, to educate, communicate, and break the stigma. In order to do so we all must share. Find your voice share let’s compare then let’s see where we can all go from there. Thank you to those who took the time to read this.
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~Let Me Introduce Myself, I am Depression~A must Read for anyone depressed~

~You point out all the reasons to not be depressed. I see clearly the things you so readily direct my attention to.

What you can not see is for all the positives you see, there are negatives waiting to consume the positives you point out to me.

With brittle faith, and frailty  of the mind, the positives you refer to are impossible to find But wait… Hold on a minute, it could be far worse than you have.
Could it now? In this I believe. But often easier spoken than to fully receive.You must change your thoughts, don’t think about these things.
Oh, ok and again I can hear what you say. But shifting this mindset will take more than a day. It will only surrender when it’s run it’s course, after consuming the mind with regret and remorse. Shake it off already get over it, move on.
Oh, I see… You have not met me, let me introduce myself, get acquainted with you. In no random order I’ll make you feel blue. My name is depression, mental illness with no cure. To live right beside me you’ll have to learn to endure.
‘Ill make your decision making a complete udder mess, while you can’t decide which question to address.Remorse, despair, there with no hope, I’ll squeeze out your life until you choke… And then right before you take your last breath, I’ll decide that to today will not be your death.
I want you to be quiet, don’t say a word, it makes the goal easy, you’ll never be heard. Genetics is what I hear many say , is the very reason you are this way. But I’m no respecter of persons, not choosy one bit, I’ll  fester around you and in your mind I will sit.

 

Awaiting the circumstance to sneak my way in, and you’ll question the link of genetics again. But regardless you will not win, and I’ll  not give a clue, because its to easy to get within you.

 

Invisibility to me can not be acquired , nor obtained.  The seeds are well planted and I’ll make you feel that all is for granted.

 

I prefer to romance you, woo as you will. Tinker and tangle the web I can weave, and the beauty of all, is I’ll never leave. Not for long at least, but when I’m away, you might enjoy life for more than a day.~

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~It Takes One to Know One~WJL~Updated

I was recently told that an Episcopalian Bishop said I had demons on me. Hmmm…………

I used to live across the street from him that is how I came to know him and his family. Ole Gibson and Cypress…on those corners.

 I also interviewed him for a college class that needed me to contrast two religions.

Now I try …… Let me stress TRY to be what I call a non tradional Christian.

I thought awhile about the comment. It was repeated to me  from a person trying to make a mends to me.

Then I remembered all the parts both the Bishop and his son have played in my life…. Not positive in anyway might I add.

In life we reflect. We all have also heard the saying “it takes one to know one”.

This is a true statement.
So my dear bishop touche’.

You too have demons on you, as do we all.

I’m still floored that a man of the cloth a Bishop would speak such.

There is no love in that statement only judgement,disdain and entitlement, makes sense why your son is how he is.

So Bishop L)&)@t I believe the bible states to cast not the first stone, it also says if you reject the least of my brother/sisters that I do unto you. 
God simply is Love, by rejecting me or any other human being you reject yourself.
Being a Bishop you ought to uphold what Jesus taught”love thy neighbor as thyself. You Bishop of all should be an example of that. However YOU ARE NOT. God have mercy on your soul.

So to be clear Bishop Lambear or Lambert it’s all a French name, think you may need to face a few of your demons, as we all.
I suggest that the confused sexuality you exude makes you inferior considering the time you were born. 
Having your beard protects you to some, but not to me, why you say? It takes one to know one, that’s how see.
Retour à l’Eau Claire nous roturiers n’ont pas besoin de plus jusdgement d’amd de rejet aux mains d’un usurpateur et un tyran !
P.S. I know longer concern myself with things that no longer are of my concern.

Oh, one more thing, God didn’t speak to me in the shower as per your experience …God just speaks everywhere…
scandaleuse vous ne pensez pas ? Oui, je crois que ça pourrait être…

Go figure.

~Please Read if Bipolar and comment if you feel this way, Please~

Am I a poetic tragedy in living form Fumbling around this earth

I’d rather be dead than be a cliche or martyr

Self deprecating is getting worn thin

Problem no courage no action taken

To exit

But instead I live on a roller coaster 

For all the faith and love in the world can’t console me

Yet I know love exist for some 

Enough to sustain

God watches me

But intervention upon Gods part

Is tricky and random

Consistency is needed

Daily lacking

Am I alone?

Isolated by illness

Lacking the love necessary 

I’m sorry I’d just rather die~