Hurricanes and Heirarchies

 Not sure what I'm writing this post about yet. I just kinda go until I figure it out. I'm reading several books while I'm in the seventh circle of hell. 

Do they still teach that in school? 

Dante? Dante's Inferno? 

To be honest, I had trouble reading that whole thing, I got a lot of my information from Cliff's Notes. Nobody knows Cliff anymore. He has names now like: Perplexity, Gemini, Claude, ChatGPT. I really like several applications but I have not dipped a toe in the AI pool. I don't even use the talk to text or ask Siri or ask Alexa. I still like hard copies of things. Printed out versions. It's easier on my eyes and once it's printed, it cannot be changed. 

That's part of the reason I became a papergirl. I don't want the newspapers to go away. How will we know what really happened? I still have several prints of newspapers, carefully stashed away in my old room. 

What do you like to collect? What is important to you? Computers, fashion, books? 

I'll get back to the mental health stuff. I started working on it twenty years ago and I don't think I'll ever stop. I need my son. 

My family was so busy trying to find a diagnosis for my attitude and personality it never dawned on them I just had a temper. A 'hair trigger temper' is what I like to call it. 

Doesn't everyone's family fuck them up? 

Over and over and over and over and over...
sike, just kidding, kind of. 😏 

                                           

                                             'There's one in every family.... TWO in mine.'

                                                                                                - Zazu

 


My immediate family that I got stuck with, Bobby and Son, couldn't wait to find a pill that would put all that to a stop. They didn't care if it left me unable to tie my shoes and drooling on myself, which actually happened. They were comfortable that month. It controlled my temper, it controlled me. It changed me to someone unrecognizable. I have to use the word hate. I hated it. And it fueled my contempt and rage and resentment towards them. I couldn't even roll a joint.

Unfortunately, that very word, control, was a trigger. I could tell they were trying to control me from the minute I woke up in the morning until I went to bed at night. IF I went to bed at night. The more control that was exerted over me the more out of control I became. 

 

I like to make threats when I'm angry. I like to hold it all in until I explode. 

 

Some of it is learned behavior. 

Some of it is stubbornness. 

Some of it is the feeling of being pushed around.

Some of it is constant boundary crossing.

Some of it is lack of patience. 

Some of it's rebellion.

Some of it's immaturity. 

All of it.....is me. 

All of it....is lack of trust.

All of it...had become our family dynamic. 

 

There's a song by a group called 'Cannons'. They sing lots of cool songs actually. I'll link it at the bottom. It's called 'Hurricane'. She sings, 'I'm coming back like a Hurricane....I'm gonna take you higher...' 

I have the wolves in me. One good one, one bad one. Which wolf you'll encounter depends on which wolf I feed. When it comes to Bobby and Son I'm always feeding the Hurricane. When it comes to closer friends and closer family, I'm feeding to take you higher. Figuratively or literally depending on what you're into.

'The choice is yours.' I always used to say. 'The choice is yours.' 

But was it? Or was it mine? Ah-ha. Radical Acceptance.

I am the reason why I do not have my son right now. Regardless of what anyone had done to me, I made the choices that got me here today. 

Radical, dude, radical. 

 'Hurricane' by Cannons


 

 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Christmas. 2026.

Image
Here it comes. Christmas.  This is the first time in twelve years I've been without my son on Christmas. I've never had to share him. I've never had him taken away from me. I'm trying not to focus on the losses. I'm trying not to focus on the anger. I'm focusing on me. I want to be the elusive 'good surprise'.  The hits I've taken through the years are minor compared to ones I've taken this year. Sometimes I feel like leftovers. What does that mean?  It's always about the unanswered questions. Leftovers. The details left out. The details left behind. The questions about Christmas morning this year. Will Bobby have the gifts wrapped and placed neatly on the chair for when Jude comes down the steps in the morning? Is Jude going to let tears fall down his face in the dark before he falls asleep like I do?  Christmas is a dark time for me this year. Dark like the path I was running with no place to go. It's easy to get lost in the darkness. I...
Read more

Mister Pittsburgh

Image
 PITTSBURGH -    It was once a city filled with smog and steel mills but has become a romantic, cozy, beautiful urban entity. It entices and entertains with the Cultural District and Civic Light Opera shows. It has everything from 'Hamilton' to 'Hello Dolly!' performing throughout the year.  The Strip District has always been my hot spot. Let me tell you about when I was young. Let me take you back like the dream sequence in 'Wayne's World'...     At night the clubs opened up and there were a plethora of them. Several of them literally floated along the river on one big dock. A restaurant called Cruisers had tables with umbrellas overlooking the dark and dangerous looking waters of the Allegheny. The river wasn't something to look at back in those days. The depth was unknown, what was in it was not alive, and it had a very distinct smell. If you fell in or went into the river a single shower would not take the smell away. You would have to use bleach and...
Read more

So.Buttons on Your Underpants

Image
 I wanted to Trauma Dump so I can stop talking about it. I thought it would stop being a part of me. I thought it would stop being a part of my writing. But that will never be.  That will never be.  'But to say never say never you done said never twice...it's the questions, it's the questions boy...' (Common Sense)  'Sew, buttons on your underpants.'  My Mom always used to say that. I would sigh and say, 'So....'  She would finish my sentence with, 'buttons on your underpants.' I still catch myself repeating her quips and phrases after all these years.  Semantics.  What a 'mother huncher'!  That's another little phrase I picked up from my buddy's Dad. He would say 'mother huncher' instead of y'know....the big cuss word.  He also called Giant Eagle, 'The Dirty Bird'. Ew.  But that's what we are left with when people leave our lives in one way or another. Things they've said, things they'v...
Read more