damage – Page 2 – Anélemc's Writing

Posted on April 24, 2019April 24, 2019 by Anelemc · 3 Comments

Tired, not sick and tired…just tired.

I am getting to the point where retirement is looking damn so good so good

But…

Don’t have that Big Fat Retirement pension coming my way,

(that’s what happens when you move from job to job)

as it’s always been hard to stay at one job for too long.

(you say that now, but that’s not what you thought while you were moving about)

I get bored, not because I’m boring but spending 35-40 hours a week with some co workers you’d never hang out with on your day off is boring.

(having your own business for 15 years can do that to you)

And there are those with positions of power who wave their condescending and micromanaging wands of glory directed towards Image result for people stifling your creativity

(I treated my assistants with respect and appreciation and was in awe I could hire them)

bursting a tiny bubble, well actually Big Bubbles of ideas and hopes and inspirations,

(creative people are a bit off their rockers and can get carried away with ideas…)

into shards of Papyrus paper needed for input into the databases of an excel spreadsheet that personifies an aged metal filing cabinet that

(pushing papers is basically water torture to those who have so much more to give)

is bent on being resistant to assault and fondling,

(as the creativity dies instead of glowing and rising through adversity)

I give up and give in. Nothing left to prove. The only proof needed to verify the my gifts earned through life is the proof HE and I alone share.

(Peace out to those who love being obstacles in another’s path. Your insecurities will eventually rot out your core.)

***images courtesy of the WWW, just because…

Posted on April 19, 2019April 19, 2019 by Anelemc

The Power of goodbye or …goodbye, pretty damn much the final curtain call

Grief is lingering and continues to show its fangs when least expected.

I wish I could just stay home from work for a month, get things in order and come to terms with dealing with the new normal grief has chosen to give to me as a present san bows and glitter.

A new normal I didn’t seek.

But…

Work is work and dictates the attendance of 35 hours a week to maintain insurance benefits along with the coveted vacation accrued hours.

Well…

Grief

is here and not going anywhere too soon.

I think it’s going to stick around until the day I draw my last breath

Hopefully seeing the dead of family past at my bedside ready to welcome me into another realm will make that last breath worth its’ draw.

But…

Related image In the meantime, I’ll listen to music to numb the silence.

“Pain is a warning that something’s wrong

I pray to God that it won’t be long”

-It will forever be long for pain has no expiration date, no renewal before expiration fees, no put it on a payment plan and go

Nothing…

“There’s nothing left to try

There’s no place left to hide”

-What is there to try? I’ve cried and cried to block away the reality of goodbye and I’ve tried to hide behind substances legal or not to no avail

There’s nothing left to lose

There’s no more heart to bruise.

– Heck I get to leave all that busy no nonsense stuff behind because what I’ve lost can never be replaced or substituted. Pi-Patel took my heart, Toby and Marge took mi alma.

Related image

There’s no greater power

Than the power of goodby

-The power of goodbye is accepting the finality of a goodbye. A goodbye so final it leaves a void of blackness after those words leave your lips

I loved so deeply three souls that made getting up each day worthwhile… so difficult to go to bed at night knowing you won’t be there in the morning

Image result for japanese artist with dark artwork

I love you Butterfly

I love you boys

https://youtu.be/NHydngA5C4E

***images borrowed from the web –I adore the artist Avogado6 who captures my raw emotions

Posted on March 10, 2019March 10, 2019 by Anelemc · 4 Comments

Serenity prayer or…feel so different

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference…

Every morning I wake up with a broken heart and every night as I lay my head down on my mom’s pillow I try to keep the broken pieces from traveling far.

You are gone and it’s not even a question of accepting that reality but trying to adjust to a new reality that no longer includes you, my best friend and my mother. mom 2

October 7^th, should have been a normal Sunday with you getting ready for church, asking me if I’d go and gathering your dollars for the plate collection.

Instead…

on October 7^th, I woke at 2:15am and did not hear your breath with the oxygen machine.

I got up…

turned on the light and saw the look of vacancy on your face even though your eyes were closed.

I knew…

you were gone.

I felt your forehead which was warm to touch and my hand traveled to your back which was cold. I reached for my stethoscope and placed it on the honey coloured skin on top of your heart. Mom 1

No sound, no breath, an empty shell void of the pulse of life it once contained.

At first, I was relieved.

The previous day, as I held your hand, I begged you to go, to let go of the body that so betrayed you. To let go of the organs slowly shutting down. To let go of the month of starvation your body endured. To let go of the dependency on the morphine I resented giving you for I knew each dose sent you further into oblivion and I so badly wanted to see you smile at me with eyes that saw me and not death.

It is almost six months since you’ve gone.

The morphine and the Percocet sit in my medicine cabinet.

Sundays are bad and I always hold the vials in my hand contemplating, while being angry at you for not taking me with you. Each Sunday that passes the urge to take them diminishes.

You so loved life and I’m trying so hard to learn to love and dwell in it as you often wished I would.

Continue on…

I have no choice, trudging through trying to find the new ‘normal’ while desperately holding on to what was, knowing the was, is in the past and no longer has a place in the present. mom3

I so miss you mom, my butterfly and my best friend. You are at peace, flying through another dimension. I pray you will be there, when it’s my time, to welcome me into your world as you welcomed me into this world.

I love you.

Posted on July 18, 2018July 18, 2018 by Anelemc

Sometimes…or have a lot of time on hand.

‘Sometimes you need bad things to happen to inspire you to change and grow’

Sometimes…

Growth has no end or beginning. Image result for sometimes

Sometimes…

Change is constant with no restrictions, boundaries or cut offs.

Sometimes…

Inspiration comes from places least expected.

Sometimes…

Things happen for a reason.

Sometimes…

There’s no logic to why things happen.

Sometimes…

Bad things happen to good people.

Sometimes…

Bad things happen to bad people.

Sometimes…

Good things happen to good people.

Sometimes…

Nothing happens at all to anyone. Image result for images of sometimes

Sometimes…

The way to win a battle is to walk away.

Sometimes…

Walking away leads to the battle.

Sometimes…

Dark, rainy grey clouds bring a smile.

Sometimes…

White cotton candied clouds make you sick.

Sometimes…

Silence is golden.

Sometimes…

Screaming profanities at high volume is bliss.

Sometimes…

Bliss.

Sometimes…

Disruption.

Sometimes

Posted on July 2, 2018 by Anelemc

Smiling faces…or Reality Bites

I work with them and so do you…there’s no getting around it, no putting it on the side…you know who they are.

They smile in your face, play the extrovert full of empathy that’s really apathy meanwhile you see the fakeness, the fake emotions while they shove you under the bus.

“Play the game” close confidents whisper in your ear. Nod your head, say yes and pamper their whimsical hysterical demands. Hey, they make more than you so suck it up.

When the time comes when enough is enough, do you go postal, cursing with eloquent profanity, blazing high pitched and on target as you sashay out the door?

Or do you smile, weakly, tuck the tail up where the sun can’t shine, walk backwards out the door, bowing and saying, “Oh so sorry. Me quit”.

Who has the answers to dealing with those ‘smiling faces’ 35 plus hours a week?

I don’t.

Actually, I do. Image result for smiling faces

From those packs of smiling hyenas there are those who shine through.

They are sincere…

They are supportive…

They are encouraging…

They are…

the coworkers you love to work with!

But always remember:

Smiling faces sometime pretend to by your friend

Posted on January 23, 2018January 23, 2018 by Anelemc

Transparency or why the hell can’t ya just tell the truth…

Transparency is our motto…

Yea right. Transparency is far from your motto and if the need is so great to state it, it says one thing: You’re lying.

We believe in transparency…

Really now? Transparency is what you call a twisted version of the truth which is lying to make it seem real.

Transparency is our commitment to you…

To me? Or did you mean your Board Members who are fully aware of the transparency and what lies behind it.

Kane-Transparency-Bubbles-1200-1200x627

Our transparency speaks for itself…

Does it now? I guess the attention of your transparency should focus on what you’re not saying.

Our money supply is transparent…

Um…like those over seas bank accounts?

I feel if I hear the usage of ‘transparency’ one mo’ time, I’ma gonna go ballistic and put going postal to shame.

Please…

Cut the crap, when has ‘transparency’ replaced telling the truth?

Or is lying in any form necessary to make a buck the new norm?

I do not have the answers.

Transparency is bull…

download

But, there are some great quotes on it:

“Truth never damages a cause that is just.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

“In the kingdom of glass everything is transparent, and there is no place to hide a dark heart.”
― Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration

“If you remove Al Sharpton’s blackness, he disappears. He’s transparent. There’s nothing there because he bases his whole life on his blackness. Me, I’m a black man; but my blackness has submission to my Christianity.”
― Ken Hutcherson

“You have to be transparent
so you no longer cast a shadow
but instead let the light pass through you.”
― Kamand Kojouri

Give me lies or give me transparency!!!

**First photo is mine, the rest, courtesy of the WWW

Posted on November 17, 2017November 17, 2017 by Anelemc

No money in my pocket…

The job I do which comes with money, insurance, sick and vacation days-

Will Never Define Me.

If I left tomorrow, another would take my place and yesterday’s trash would hold my memory. I work for an organization that bears no ownership from me but seeks to own me 9-5 five days a week, 52 weeks of the year.

Not my circus, not my monkeys and,

still I work.

For the pitiful salary that allows me to live paycheck to paycheck.

I work.

Twenty-three dollars of green and cream coloured paper can pay for a NYRR race so yes, I

work.

Some money is better than no money.

Before 9am I am the person who owns myself, running 4-6 miles through Ppark alleviating all the knots and kinks required for the introvert in me to go forth into the wonderful office space world where, annoying can’t be alone extroverts, rule.

After 5pm, I revert to being me, in my apartment, wearing the jammies, with the furbabies, two glasses of wine and a good book or SVU on the tube. The introvert in me welcomes my non-inclusive space.

Non-inclusive means space for me and surely not you.

Lord have mercy…

for the extroverts and their lonely selves cannot exist without the attention sucked from introverts who long for the private office the extroverts occupy.

Still I work.

Money is earned not given in my case.

I work…

not for the accolades which are reserved for those who make the most and work the least.

Work,

because it pays the endless bills left always in arrears.

Some money is better than no money so

I work and will keep working until the bills ride off into the sunset or I win mega millions and with my middle finger held high, I ride off into the sunset.

***images from the web…

Posted on July 20, 2017July 20, 2017 by Anelemc

Feelin’ Groovy, Felling Well…But…

Wellbutrin… wellbutrin-lawyer-lawsuit-law-firm-attorney-300x300.jpg

(or rather the generic version since my insurance will not pay for the real thing)

Well…

We have a rather strange relationship.

I take it.

It takes me.

Well…

We have separated for now.

Possibly a long separation…

Although (Wellbutrin) you are noted to deliver far more than I could ever imagine,

You don’t…and

Well…

You leave my brain in a state of discombobulation, like walking through a foggy swamp, pausing long enough to see the resident croc munching on my left big toe and then later wondering where did it go?

My sleeping is flawless as you cruise through my blood, leading me on pinkish cotton candy paths until I step on the dog s***t someone left behind.

Appetite is in check as there is no appetite, for you are a cheap date who does not pay for food, you as a foodie who loves to boast about consuming, but once I run away from you, my chomping mouth is on non-stop mode, savouring all the non-delicacies your stinginess denied.

Liver values checked every three months, just to make sure you’re not taking more than you should and yes, thank you my liver is quite clever at leavin’ you wishing and hoping

Okay…

Getting back to what was initially stated,

Wellbutrin and I are separated for now.

Maybe indefinitely. pills

Maybe forever as was the case of my first so called civil court matrimony union to a man who thought I was wacko anyway…

Wellbutrin.

You are a wonder drug for some.

For me, too many questions on what you bring to the table…

What you have you done for me?…

Ms Jackson…if you’re nasty.

***BTW-Be so very careful-make sure you research and familiarize yourself with Wellbutrin. If you post ignorant statements, beware…

Posted on May 27, 2017May 27, 2017 by Anelemc

Pieces…Bits and Pieces or WHEN

How quickly the quality of life changes from normal to abnormal

WHEN…

You shaved under your arms with a dull razor two days ago and now two days later your pits are burning

WHEN…

You apply aloe vera to the burning pits, feeling relief until you feel, the LUMPS

WHEN…

Survival mode kicks in, and you’ve been through this before with your mom and know the deal-time is of the essence, so they say, but when it’s happening to you, time goes on fast forward with you driving the train with a clutch when you only know how to drive automatic

WHEN…

Through the layers of receptionists at the doctor’s office and strategically planning, you finally get the receptionist who is willing to help you get that next day appointment

WHEN…

You go through a mammogram diagnostic (you don’t wanna know the details) and ultrasound on the day of your mother’s birth and you keep it on the down low, because your mom is 90 and can’t deal with the possibility of her daughter being diagnosed with breast cancer, most especially when your mom went through the kidney bean episode with her sister who died from it.

WHEN…

You realize how YOU are the THREAD that holds your precious family (mom and fur babies) together and don’t have any provisions or alternative plans for them to follow if YOU should GO before THEM

WHEN…

The diagnosis is normal.

Nothing’s wrong.

No lumps.

Enlarged lymph nodes due to shaving.

And…

the doctor looks at you as if you have three heads but you could care less because being hysterically pro active when cancer runs in the family is far better than sitting back and wishing the lumps would magically disappear overnight.

How quickly our quality of life changes from abnormal back to normal.

…Bye Felicia Razors…
Hello Nair!

Posted on April 3, 2017 by Anelemc

Fragile…or How grief takes hold.

DSCN0869 Today, this day, the sky is grey and rain comes down. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, sometimes taking a break and sometimes…still waiting for the next sometime to write.

In November I posted my blog piece, ‘I No Longer have a heart…’ on an animal mourning website. Not sure what prompt me to do so but at the time felt a need to release my mourning by whatever means necessary. Forgot about the post, months passed and then Tuesday came.

I received an email from a pet owner. She lost her fur baby two days prior and was on her 18^th hour of crying, screaming, lashing out and not knowing how to deal with the pain.

Like me, she had to make the decision to end her dog’s life and wanted to know how I was doing after six months had passed.

Floored I was.

Did not expect this.

Came out of nowhere into my email which I was checking via Iphone while sitting in Fairway’s parking lot.

Started crying in the parking lot.

Cried, when I got home.

Cried touching his ashes.

Cried.

So f*****g sick of crying.

I responded to her email to let her know it does get better. Memories and pictures guide you through. Allowing grief to take its course is a given.

And it does get better.

I’ve surrounded myself with so many memories of him. His leash hangs on my coat rack, his collar on a peg in my bedroom where his ashes also rest. I live in the place, Brooklyn and in the house, Berkeley where the memories began. I run in the park he so cherished, especially on Monday mornings after the weekend barbeque garbage lays waiting.

Pi Patel will always be with me.