~No one Could Hold A Candle to Me~Not even a Match to Light It~

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Shit is its own vocabulary sir

Southern vernacular

Colloquial expression

Layden with

Insipid ideas

Treacherous deciet

Yet evermore

Longing for yet without

From great distance and in our heart something tells me we never part

I’m in you

As you are in me

Like the creole roots embedded in me I am as Southern as Southern can be

We try to part but you refuse to see

That no one could love you better than me

You tasted the sweet the bitter the brine deep inside you know you are mine

It takes your attention from me

This new idea

Person……

Fall pretense

Unoriginal bland

If you only could see

What you had in your hand

Blinded by your own lust and deceit

I’ll stand tall and unique

Out of my mouth doth angels speak

So you will see

They could never hold a candle to me, not even the match to light it with~

Can’t you see?

~Let Me Introduce Myself, I am Depression~A must Read for anyone Depressed~

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~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.~

~Breaking Bad~One Hundred And One Days of Hell~Needs lots of Work on this for damn sure~

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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…….

  ~Walking Away~With My Weirdness intact~

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I’m weird

I’m not of this world  🌎

The ether

I’m ethereal

I have lost

To much

The touch

The energy

The love

The essence

The Friends ……as I walked away

I lost it all

Had bills to pay

I lost my son, he is not the boy he was

And now it would seem I must accept I have lost a love I’ll never understand ……. boy to man~

So remember me and I’ll remember you….. yes I know I bit off more than I can chew

I lost the will to continue on

So I’m walking away it’s time to move on

You and I both know

You broke me

Still yet I am here

I’m gonna walk away now gotta learn somehow

You know I know you are with him

Hard headed always was

I’ll see you again in this I’m sure

Remember from this point my intentions pure

But I’m waving goodbye to you
I’m walking away now in this I know

I have to go

Walking away

Catch you on another day, time, place, or another life

These wounds cut like a knife

Looking back once more

Wish you would talk to me once Again, before I close the exit door

As…………………….. I’m

……….walking away~

Happy Mother’s Day to my Mom Mary Louis Bourgeois~One of the greatest fortune tellers On the Bayous of Houma Louisiana~

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My Mon was 78 years old right there in the photo, just saying~

Momma I called Dennis today, been 7 years since you passed away.

I was sick in my mind and was unable to help when you died.

Momma we had a very strained relationship I felt that you tried……. the best you knew how, oh how I wish you were here now.

The words I speak now are still hard to find.

After 7 years I asked Dennis, I never met face to face.

If he would render the ashes, if not where they were placed?

Momma he couldn’t you see.

He gave them to your companion who was 20 years younger , as you well knew his name is cecil. Here I got his picture today! He looks great see 

I searched Cecil down and what a surprise he did tell. By the way he is doing well.

He poured out your ashes onto your mothers grave.

It was to late for your ashes for me to save.

Momma I’m sorry I was sick in my mind, there were many around me who were very unkind. You warned me long ago but I didn’t take heed. Watch who you let in and what exactly they need. They will cling to you, your life force and will breed.

You mailed me a card voicing concern, it was mailed the day you died I finally learned.

Momma it is bittersweet to know the day you passed & went away that you mailed the card to me that very day.

Momma you already know I grieve differently than most.

I have delayed grief it takes many years to finally sink in.

Just like when Dad died ashes to wind, he died on my birthday as you already knew. He died 7 years before you.

Momma lately you haunt my dreams… I want you to know I don’t have a Stone where your ashes did go, so this is your headstone now this is your grave.

Momma you kept secrets to tell……

But I’m not sure if those secrets went to heaven or hell.

I’ll never know but I can presume you’re finally at rest you paid the price you passed the test.

I know your life was really hard it was far from the best.

How I wish things were different

How they could’ve been.

Momma receiving the card you sent on the day of your death,

It was delivered 3 days later

I opened the mail box took a deep breath.

Momma the last two years of your life we became close

I want you to know I miss you and Dad both.

You lived through Katrina I found  your sons as you asked, I never knew you had many children each one you left except me, I don’t know why,

And will never understand why it was me? Or why the others never came to see, except my sister Jackie

But time has a way to change what has past make it what’s best.

Momma I talked to Dennis to day

Twice before too, this is what he would say “Kismet” at first I didn’t know what he meant

Didn’t know how time moves,

How time is spent.

I know that will be the last time I’ll talk to him as he announced to me his Kismet is due.

Momma Dennis is now 71 years old.

He had a few stories that needed to be told.

His accent sounded so good so Cajun you see the blood so creole in you and in me.

Momma you instilled in me the Bible and quotes each day

At night on bent knee psalms 91 we would pray.

I still can recite it in its entirety today.

Momma you were known as the great fortune teller who lived on the bayou I saw what you did…….

How you always eventually knew.

People would come from cities around to see what was ahead of them to see what you found.

You used a plain deck of cards for you to see what would be.

The kings and the Queens and jokers Jumped out of the deck.

Taking inventory gave them the check read them the mail from the outer realm, touched by the unseen, you taught some to me, taught my unseen instincts only you could at first see.

Prophetic words spilled out of your mouth. You could summon the knowledge from North, West, East and south.

You never approved of any man I brought before you.

They were not good enough,

They weren’t good men.

“Not able “you’d say to give my daughter only truth long the way, to love me as needed, to protect me from harm, guess you knew that none existed so you never did tell how life could often be hell.

People clouded by lies shackled in death, confessing only in their last breath.

I’m so sorry momma I couldn’t get you in a casket into the ground.

But Jimi sang a song just for you how profound

“The wind cries Mary” all around.

https://g.co/kgs/pxdqgQ
I think of you when I hear that song, Jimi tapped into your life somehow in that unseen realm… I think it’s cool and truly old school.

How could he see the creole Mary how the wind would cry your name, how the words painted your life, your strife, your hope, the saddest thing to me was you had to learn to cope.

So Momma this is your headstone on the web of the world immortalized but your story not all told.

Momma I too now am getting old.

Your grandson is growing up to, I see so much of me in him like I see so much of you in me.

Funny how life works how it moves along somehow.

Momma I pray for your blessing as I move along on my quest

Momma inside me I know you’re at rest.
Love Nicole
Mary Louise Bourgeois

R.I.P.

7/12/1927 – 9/30/2010

In that photo she was 75… died at age 83.