~The Moth~

~Like a moth to the flame, bursting with light, I eagerly follow and put forth no fight~wings spread outward fluttering fast, I am hoping to captivate love at long last~burning the edges as I ignite in flame when I finally realize that it’s not a game~I struggle to back track to gain back my strength I’m slowly learning that you will go to any length~This marvelous magic stunning surreal I am waking up and I can now feel~ your powerful magnetism drawing me near as I let down my walls and abandon all fear~

Make no mistake as I slowly burn, that time has a way to make it your turn~
So when you feel powerful, all above, remember the fine line between hate and love~

You’ve been allowed into my secrets and my tethered torn walls~make no quick movements right now I can show you heaven or hell somehow~Moths are like butterfly’s in so many ways~transforming even burning it’s life light churning~Emerging with brilliance shimmering light perhaps it maybe you who will now have to fight, I’ll make it so true, and most definitely real to a point that I’m all that you Will feel~

I’ll burn in my heart, I’ll burn in my hell, I’ll take this time as the tides begin to swell~ this current this flame is not a game, I speak clearly now~and you’ll scream my name, I’ve screamed yours on a time or two/too
Suppose it’s that flame that keeps it real ~keeps it true.

Aaaahhh yes You.

Not for Reproduction~

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~Breaking Bad~101 Days of Hell~Most Recent Manic Attack~

I have thought over and over about the events that provoked my most recent manic episode.

It began on July 28 of 2018. Let me begin by saying that often extreme Manic episodes take time to build up to a Crescendo so to speak, to hit its high….. to hit the apex of insanity. Stress always is the catalyst, I hadn’t seen my son in months although I share custody. I was being parentally alienated, I was in a stressful relationship and I had to many people around me with drama,like mental vampires that suck all your peace and solitude away from your mind.

As I write this I realize that this may be too much to write too soon after these events occurred, events that should never occurred yet unfortunately did.

But I want to be brave and I don’t want what happened to me to happen to others, that is why I write this blog is to educate and share my personal experiences in hope that someone else can learn and understand bipolar disorder and posttraumatic stress disorder better. Read the links below this Is where 2 inmates died in less than a year in this jail because they don’t care and do what they want when they want. Why? They don’t listen nor care , See that’s another thing they won’t give you your meds either. I take benzodiazepines, you are not to stop abruptly or you could go into seizure and die. I know this happened to me once while baker acted I almost died because they wouldn’t give me my usual dose of benzodiazepine. Here is the article this only shows part of the negligence at Lake County jail

https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.wftv.com/amp/news/9-investigates/lake-county-sheriffs-office-investigates-armor-correctional-following-inmates-death/760398047 and here is another story https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.orlandosentinel.com/news/lake/os-ne-lake-county-jail-inmate-suicide-20190122-story,amp.html

I lost a lot this last episode I even lost myself for a while. I should’ve been baker acted but instead I was taken to jail for 101 days of hell.

I was also tasered in the heart while seated in my vehicle by an officer who knows and is well aware of my condition…..my disability which is bipolar disorder and posttraumatic stress disorder and yet he treated me and my disability without regard. This cop has baker acted me before. The police report is full of lies all my stuff was stolen there were about 20 responders…. too many …. shit got all fucked up, and a lot of my expensive things are gone….. stolen. I even lost my car.

I can’t go into detail right now after a lot of thought, I also have attorneys they probably wouldn’t want me talk about my experience while they are investigating case numbers of complaints I was brave enough to report to a nurse who helped me.

I held onto that piece of paper with a single case number and the name of the officer who put me into a room alone with him present while I was directed to write all of the things that happened to me.

I remembering asking him after hours of writing “is that all I get is a piece of paper with just a case number no dates no nothing but a number and your name?” Seriously?” Yep.

I was called the quiet one in jail. I didn’t talk much and I never cried. Couldn’t I shut down. I had no emotion left. Most likely all the trauma. Upon release on November 5th still no emotions. Honestly I only started crying after I watched all of the show “Breaking Bad” I completely could relate to Jesse’s character at the end, he drives away, and Walter white (aka Eisenberg) is on the lab floor dying as the cops are coming. That was the last episode…..I could feel for the first time watching it as it ended Jesse did the most amazing job of hitting that steering wheel so hard crying and screaming from all he endured, I felt it in…..that moment and it all bled through and finally after 5 and half months I cried…… so hard.

One day maybe I’ll tell more. Till then you can fill in blanks or not.

Perhaps I should have called this Breaking Bad…. 101 days of hell..or

“Finally I Cried, I’m beginning to feel again. . Now maybe I can learn to write again I’m learning to live again slowly. Thanks for reading. Breaking Bad definitely…….

Gone is Sunday’s Rest~

There was a time where time did move slowly calculated differently~

Humble beginning
From brutal wars~
We all bare the scars
Of our history of all wars
Fought~
A time where God was revered
A time where many feared~
Then some stood up
Spoke a strong truth
An uprising inspired by the youth
That day~
Conflict contained?
No. Look around foolishly we believe yet in lies~
Sadly we eat what they feed us eagerly~
Children of all the times never truly protected~
Further more the Poor, hungry, homeless, rejected, neglected~
A time where stores closed on Sunday’s the world did rest on that day, in honor of the Lord, the very notion that sparked all wars~
Quiet was heard on Sunday
Like a Christmas holiday
Quiet energy radiating as all took rest, refuge around the dinner table~
Then Machines gave rise through men’s eyes
Able computers doing what hands had been hired
In this many jobs lost, people fired~
Clogging up lives, red tape causing rape, news travels at unbeatable rates, instantly communicate~
Cops get away with murder and rape of people and youth, twisted all the stories turning lies into truth,What of protection? ah yes a broken connection~
There was a time where families gathered, and looked past the insanity of each other, embracing brother, mother, sister, father
Tolerance replaced by intolerance~
A time where children were quietly abused
Now children are loudly treated as adults they are often used, for fill ins, mind games, stolen, runaways, used for porn and sickness of men
Times has it changed much then?~
From beatings by hands of a Mom or a Dad oh the children cry out, so sad
You’re that child still, you, me
But we chose to forget, not see~
Time it changes~
It echos impervious
Yet alters,  leaving illusions, confusion~
Population out of control
Not enough can go around
People subdued no rising up
Cloned, drones marching onward without a sound~
Revolutions things of the past
Time long gone
Machines compute making our voice mute
Just a text~
Busy busy on the go
Did you know, we once rested on Sunday?
Time handled carefully, treasured and indeed measured by standards long lost
Human race you did not count the cost?~
Insanity is cool, disorders separate, labels everywhere often causing hate
War we still are, that is we are at war
Not winning, not by far~
Comfortably some sit, afforded the bliss of ignorance~
Could they be the ones who could bring about difference?
Won’t know, complacency rules
No not one can be used as needed for tools~
Time once moved slowly
Sunday’s we took rest,
Personally think it best~
Time not captured but in a memory
Believe we should take rest~
Mixture of times both then and now
Mingling to concoct a recipe
To level, even it out~
Would a revolution shout out bring about needed change?
All lives rearranged~
We used to rest and revered Sunday’s~
Quiet as a holiday where energy is mellow and slow, resting peacefully on that day, we all stopped at once~
There was a time
But it’s gone~

~The Art of Being Sorry in 4 Simple Steps~

The art of sorry in 4 easy steps…….

For the majority of us being sorry is something we often feel when we do something wrong. We often forget is that when we truly are sorry and we apologize to the other person with whom we done wrong too we open ourselves up for hurt.

Feeling regret or remorse or sorry is an emotion that humans feel after doing something against their lack of better judgment or against their values or morals…..basically in any circumstances that they should’ve acted differently in.

Previously I stated you open yourself up for hurt when you truly are sorry, you then proceed to tell the person with whom you have wronged that hey “I’m sorry truly sorry”

What happens when you are sorry 1. You say it and 2. Mean it and 3. Leave yourself open to the persons response there are no “but’s” or “Could’s” or “Should’s” or Would’s” 4. There is but one single statement” I am sorry” that is all that should come out of your mouth. Next you should prepare yourself to receive whatever the other person Has to say in response to your contriteness silently listening without excuses.

Lately it appears or so it seems that the majority of relationships that I engage in are all one sided. This makes for a lonely existence. Unfortunately however alone it may feel I am learning that it is necessary to limit those around you who continuously make excuses or are master manipulators at trying to always turn everything into their “reasons for” never truly being sorry , only wanting to explain why they did what they did… see that is not sorry, Or at least where I come from that’s not what I was taught.

So to recap…..don’t ever say that you were sorry unless it is the only three words that you were going to say to the person you wronged,there is no excuse for whatever you’re sorry for that’s why it’s called being sorry….So there it is 4 simple steps to the Art of truly being sorry.

~Breath Suffocate Untimely Death~great read~

I write many poetic pieces some beautiful… But I’m truly a cynical poet

I hope you can read this and gain its truth and remember that death can happen in youth. Enjoy.

~Breath Suffocate Untimely Death~

Part 1.

Suffocating upon needs that are often forgotten losing importance~

Open that window let the outside in~

The world we’ve been born into our earned sin~

Sent to reside foolish rules often broken we hide despise ….hypocrites …are we? living within, believing without seeing thoughts clouded over with doubt~

Knowing mask shields unspoken thoughts of fear rejection, desire for perfection~

Casual communication God help please, oh please can you repeat that sentence again, go on say that again, and again. It’s repetitive resound stealing time never gaining it back, stolen suffocating spit it out quickly speech just runs on, is there ever an end into this needles repetition yet again and again~

Suffocating, choking refusing to see hide between tasks between lies wearing masks, craving the spotlight that place, face in lights flashing brightly above others, laughing fake, fifteen minutes of fame forgetting the game is debilitating yet feeling the importance the sickening strain~

Feeling like winning first place in a fifth grade science fair feeling proud having others stare at your perfect work your well thought masterpiece

Still searching for that aching relief~

Sit right there suffocating, breathe just breathe, breathe that breath suck it in trying secretly all the while unsure where to begin~

Pass time with confidence those we propagate later to only negate, even family often we hate yet smile into that camera dance that dance, talk that talk, walk that walk robbing yourself, suffocate go on hold that breath the way all this is going all these dreams unfulfilled goals diminished work so unfinished and breathing it in won’t bring back the breath in the end all that’s left that elusive breath searching for air often life is completely unfair~

Crave always craving cunning tongue spews forth truth that are truly lies, the soul bleeds and cries loudly inside, keep that smile, smile really big take that picture hold that moment elegant style, ah yes elegant style that picture so perfect that fake ass smile~

That image that picture of holding our breath suffocating, breathe, don’t breathe instead we leave pieces, scattered in space knowing all the while about that untimely place it suffocates negates~

Gasp try to breathe Instead hold that breath because in this life the one thing that is certain none will escape the beautiful yet pitiful untimely death. Death, we all die can’t you see this with your mortal eye? Is there such thing as a timely death? No. Either way breathe your last breath. So suffocate hold your breath that breath sucking in and hold tight but you can never win the fight~

Part 2

Suffocating in the shadow of hate together a dance eternal as two souls mate~

Still evermore mediate, complicate, hate is exactly that which often suffocates you, me all that we see death awaits in each corner, ending breath so breathe breath, suck it in but you will not win born to die blind eyes see the heaven clatters and hell shakes, no way to determine the in or out pray unto God your soul is tried true otherwise the devil waits upon you~

A fashion and mold so uniquely you so breathe go on and breathe all the while suffocating forgetting the origin of divinity of which we were born~

Sent straight from heaven down to this earth, the Creator God that gave breath allowed our birth, still suffocate feel that nothing left suffocated by the shackles of this existence the very creation that was executed flawlessly or so thought but was it in blood that we were bought?~

A pawn in a game of chess you see, the stadium of gods watch and wait to reach for their pawn to take, and before we go to the creator that made you, me, will you breathe your last breath or suffocate~

The question remains did you live your life in love or live life in vain? Very simply one can hate scratching cursing as they suffocate. Truly can you breathe?~

Wind enticing leaves blowing the flowers slightly bending but to feel that breeze, its unseen force blowing touching the skin and caressing our hair ah yes the wind so wild and free ever reminding of the unseen breath that nature does take yet not enough do we stop for a brake to enjoy the mysterious breeze created by the forces of nature still suffocate, clearly not seen that we’re not breathing we suffocate did you receive that moment as the wind whisked by, or did you gasp choke allowing breath a foreboding goodbye? Flooded ever breaking crashing suffocating slowly stealing each breath it was bought never ours to begin, it was borrowed from God and elements unknown yet meet the supreme being who sits on the throne so breathe as you suffocate letting go, your last breath as you finalize your inevitable untimely death~

Suffocating breath~

Not For Reproduction~

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Does someone who is bipolar know that they’re wrong when they are verbally abusive and threatening during a manic phase?

Well, I’m speaking of my experience.
No and yes.

When manic, your sense of boundaries are skewed. The filter that most individuals use and have in place cease to exist.

In the manic phase, mania takes on many forms. Strong hostility, as well as a viscous tongue can arise if provoked even the slightest by someone who at one time or another failed me, these fails will indeed rise to the surface.

With that I’ve never been dishonest with my words but verbally abusive would fit. What I would say was often very true about what I felt about things they’ve done. But it was said very harshly, and with viscous intent. The message I conveyed was not false , but was said in such abrupt disregard that it would leave its scar.

Threatening. I only threatened when I was threatened. By that I mean because I’m bi polar, and may be within a confrontation , statements ” like you need to take your meds”or “no one will believe you cause you crazy ” will set me off, especially since those words are meant to make me feel less than, and with ignorance. Which at that point I will zone into all character flaws of the said individual I’m in conflict with and rip them to shreds, at which point I can leave them speechless.

In short I must be provoked in order to act in such ways. Granted I’m more sensitive when manic. So if the person is aware of my state. Then all could be avoided. It’s all in the care, in the handling.

Most of those whom I’ve done this too, had in most cases abandoned me when I may have needed them most. And when they needed me most I was there for them in their time of need.This is why I’ve burned a few bridges. But if they were unsupportive of me after my diagnosis then those bridges need not be crossed again.
These are my experiences , the only thing I felt bad for was how I said it. How I said it, and my intent behind it. But I was never sorry for speaking the truth.
Written 16 Dec, 2013. Asked to answer by Marcus Ford.