Catalog of Emotions

[luvalilwriter-blog]

Dear my Daughter, Week Five

Today, I write of a theory of mine and the topic is human Emotion. They are beautiful things but they are also incredibly powerful. Those who can wear their hearts on their sleeves? You should admire them, be proud of them for them, and strive to be most like them - for you will find no one stronger anywhere else. Our emotions can be wickedly sharp double edged swords, and there is no physical blade that can cut deeper than the emotional scars that remain after a shattered heart has been pieced back together.

My theory is this: at any given time, we are experiencing an intense cocktail of varying emotions which make up our moods - they coexist much like yin and yang. Using my own depression as my primary subject, I will go through the layers that I feel make up the steepness of depression and why I believe it to be so.

Most of my (admittedly short) life, I have dedicated to deciphering my own emotions and where they fall on a scale of [Acceptable] to [Incriminating]. I chose Depression because I am intimately familiar with the topic. I have mentioned before that I am diagnosed Bipolar, and with the disorder, comes rage and depression like no else.

Whether I am hyper-manic or hypomanic, there is no single emotion that I experience at the given time. Depression, for me, is a state of being where my every twinge of guilt, sadness, restlessness, or even boredom, shifts into anger. Anger which is turned in on myself, anger at my own actions, inability to take action, thoughts or other behaviors. It is a place of self-loathing and disgust.

In the moments that I become depressed, the initial emotions (guilt, sadness, restlessness) are often vanquished to make room for the new ones, sometimes I don’t even remember what brought on the episode. Occasionally there is no trigger at all, but there is usually a point where I can determine, after the fact, where my mood turned sour.

Anyhow. Once I’ve entered a state of hypomania, I experience new, stronger emotions such as obsessive anguish, hatred, fear, anger, impatience and longing. Each of these emotions I can point towards different things. My anguish is turned on me, on the result of my life and decisions, it is my own pity party. My hatred is of myself, of everything that I am. I often even terrify myself, and there is always an underlying restlessness and impatience. And longing, longing for death, for no longer existing, for the sweet relief of giving everything away.

My depression is a potluck of other emotions and I feel each one separately and yet united. Each of them are potent and just as lethal as the others, always coiling in and around each other but never quite merging completely. It is my harshest blade for Depression is omnipresent. Every moment can be rooted down into the stewing pool of despair and anguish that is depression. I may not bear physical scars (for I do not cut or otherwise cause injury to myself) but the ones that ride rent free in my mind is enough to remind me just how powerful our emotions can be.

They can lead us to love one another, or they can lead us down a dark path of self-destruction. By mastering our emotions, may we go on to master the confusing world at large that rules us.

Love,

Your Teen Mom

[luvalilwriter-blog]

Dear my Daughter, Week Four

With my recent move from the northern half of the country to the southern, I have been forced to readjust yet again to another school (proving to be my ninth placement of academia in the last five years) and also to redefine the meaning and impact of education that I hold dear to my heart. I fear there is simply no other way to approach this particular topic without being absolutely straightforward and direct in both opinion - and insult.

I can no longer find the countless number of school systems in the USA to be reliable, and that is disheartening because the youths that represent our futures will someday be a result of this system; you will inevitably become a result of this system. Someday, your moldable, innocent mind will be settled into one of these facilities and I will be forced to watch as you conform into the unreasonable expectation the country, and the world, has of you. I will be forced to watch as you bend and bow under the weight of your predecessors’ knowledge.

The world has steadily advanced over the past hundred years to the point where we now produce billions of bytes worth of new information each day, but we are slowly but steadily becoming less and less prepared for the product of humanity’s advancement. Each day, children are learning things at younger and younger ages. How many toddlers now know how to access a tablet application? Children are learning to read, write, count, and speak comprehensively earlier and earlier because they have to! There’s no choice!

If children don’t pick things up like the snap of a finger, they will be left behind, forever grasping at the dust their peers choke them with. It’s grown to the point where I, as a teenager and soon to be adult, do not feel capable of considering myself an “adult” at the age of eighteen years old. My high school(s) will have taught me advanced academics such as but not limited to the following classes: Anatomy and Physiology Honors, College and Career oriented Computer-Technology Literacy Certification Course, English Honors, AutoCAD: Engineering and Architectural Designing, etc.

Yet still, no where in my schooling career will I have been taught how to write my resume, how to apply for a job, how to apply to a college, how to apply for government funding or scholarships, how to open a bank account, how to budget my money appropriately, how to go about purchasing a car or a home, or where to look for resources when I may need them. The United States expects us to suddenly go from being children to fully self-sustaining adults on the magical chime of a biological clock.

We go from legal responsibility of a guardian, to suddenly floundering amidst a mudslide with no place to look and no foothold. On our eighteenth birthday (coincidentally the year most teenagers graduate high school), we are no longer children and it's treated as a date to be celebrated, to be cheered and fawned over. Then why do I feel such trepidation towards that looming date? How can I look forward to something that terrifies me so horribly?

The school wants us to be well rounded so we may have a fighting chance in this damning world so we might survive but we are not beings who can learn things without being taught. Children are not capable of sprouting new information on the dime when it’s called for. The school teaches us quadratics when we ought to learn how to save that dime.

Love,

Your Teen Mom

[luvalilwriter-blog]

An Undefined Me

The words won’t come to describe just what it’s like to be me

It’s like a whirlwind of nothingness and empty terms

Is it that there are none to describe?

Or that I simply haven’t found them yet?

  Because, today, it’s like I am a fire that’s been put out

Like I’m a washed out photograph

Or a pen without any ink

  There are no wants or desires

And it’s just so hard to want to be alive

When I can’t even believe the lies from my mouth

How can anyone believe that I’m alright?

  I’m sounding faker by the minute

Like this isn’t me

I feel like I’ve lost a part of me

Or maybe I never had it all

  How can I lose more of myself when there hadn’t been any at all to begin with?

Sometimes the questions come in endless droves

And all without answers

  The darkness under my eyelids is more inviting

Than the dreariness of a future I can’t imagine

There’s something wrong with me

And I think they’re catching on

  Everyone’s asking “What’s wrong with you?”

And I have so much on the tip of my tongue

All that I can never say

For fear that they just might see

What kind of monster hides inside of me

  I’m losing to the madness

The madness of a broken me

I’m losing to this beast

To my own bloodlust

  And again

I’m losing yet another piece of me

Why can’t I hold on?

How much will it take before it can be satisfied?

  The madness is my personal tempo

And it’s serenading my fall into darkness

I lay here tonight

And I want to tell you what it’s like to be me...

[luvalilwriter-blog]

Dear my Daughter, Week Three

Human beings are intimate. We’re sensitive and innately sensual. And I know that there is a time when you will inevitably question yourself and your sexuality. It’s natural. However, for some reason, the people of today find this stage of internal exploration as a weakness. It is not! And don’t you ever let anyone ever tell you otherwise.

There are so many labels out there that people try to pin their sexuality under: heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, asexual, pansexual, demisexual, transgender/transexual. However, that’s what society tries to enforce, not what I want you to believe or try to assimilate to. The human body is the embodiment of all sexuality itself and it should be appreciated regardless of gender or attraction. By giving sexuality labels, we are trying to limit the way we see the world, but why would we only eat the red and purple M&Ms if the blue and green ones taste just the same?

It’s like trying to take a certain color out of our spectrum just because we are the way we are. Sexuality is a lot more than just the genders involved. Humans are sexy because of more than just the body. Personally, I am attracted to intelligence and passion. I say that because I gravitate towards people that are both passionate and intelligent regardless of gender and association. By not labelling my own sexuality, I can appreciate the beauty of the human entirety - the body, mind and soul - separately from myself.

Whether someone identifies themselves as male or female, internally or externally, it quite simply, doesn’t matter to me. And I would like to instill that in you. The human race as a whole is sensual and there is something to be appreciated in everyone. Whether it is the body form or the sharing of experience or the sharing of knowledge that attracts you, I want you to approach your sexuality with the idea of sensuality instead.

It is okay to be confused and uncertain about what you want, but as long as you aren’t trying to conform to society’s narrowed views by being focused on labels, then I’m okay with that. You should enjoy all your M&Ms because they’re all chocolate inside, regardless of the candy coat on the outside and regardless of their shape or size. Eat them all and savor each one separately.

Humanity is sensuality and sensuality is not sexuality. Sexuality is not love and love is universal. What I want for you, more than anything else, is that you may spread your love far and wide; that you may someday make every decision you are faced with one based on love. If I can succeed in helping you along to reaching that point, then I will see that as my greatest achievement.

Love should never be limited, and by focusing on sexuality, we narrow our chances at finding the greatest thing on earth. Be free in your attraction and let acceptance guide you to the answers of your questions. Should you choose to let love guide you, then I can only seeing you succeeding in life and that is every mom’s greatest desire.

You aren’t alone in your confusion and, if you have questions, then I’m sure we’ve all asked them at some time. Ask your questions and if we don’t have the answers to them, then maybe it’s a mystery of life that we haven’t discovered yet.

Love,

Your Teen Mom

[luvalilwriter-blog]

Reflection: Misery in a Mirror

When I open my eyes and look into the surface of my mirror…

Have you any clue what it is I see each and every time?

There is a girl standing in that glistening reflection I would never recognize

Her lips are chapped and bloodied as the corners turn downward just so

She never quite sees me but neither does she ever look away

When she opens her mouth, it’s an ode to misery and numbness that befalls her

She’s so alone in this pain and she’s alone in her self inflicted sorrow

  Then she hears the sound of her mother’s call

And in that reflection, the rumble of construction raises walls

And the march of soldiers up her guard

Her lips curve up into another listless smile

And she sets her glasses upon her nose to hide her lifeless gaze

She fights the urge to wash the taint from her mouth and she turns

As that illusion marches from my mirror...

I’m left alone with what she signifies

  Mindlessly, I’ve been conducting the song to each masquerade

And painting each line into my million masks

I have to wonder what it’s like to feel

Haven’t I already lost my chance?

Is there even the hope of saving me?

Or is it now far too late to even dream…

  In the evenings, my false reflection lays in her bed

And she rubs her eyes because the tears sting even if they’ll never fall

She wants to scream or shout

Anything to feel something besides this deafening silence inside of her

She’d die for another chance at living

There’s a part of her that clings to hope even if there’s none to be had

She wants and she wants with all her heart but she knows

Oh, how she knows that it’s just a little too far out of reach

[luvalilwriter-blog]

Dear my Daughter, Week Two

My mom and I had a conversation today about mental disorder. I was diagnosed Bipolar at the age of twelve (after ten years in a third world country and roughly two years of misdiagnosis and lots of therapy). I’m not sure how our conversation started but I remember saying, “People are too focused on fixing things that aren’t broken.”

I am one of those kids you see at school that never has any friends, hardly ever speaks to anyone, and has an IEP (individualized education plan). I sit where I’m directed to sit, hate making decisions and often hide away from sight. However, there’s a flaw in the school system of the United States (and yes, I am beginning to think of myself as a miniature expert due to my being transferred through nine different schools in the past five years).

An IEP is supposed to mean that you get your own plan unique to yourself, but there’s only two kinds of IEPs. You have the IEPs for physical disorders, ones that require the use of a wheelchair for example, then there are ones for “behavioral issues” which encompasses the rest of us. Well, these behavioral IEPs tend to stick us all under a different stereotype umbrella and, for the most part, they are geared more towards finding the cause of the “problem” and fixing it.

I find this an incorrect way of approaching the issue. Nothing will work because for kids like me, there is no problem. It’s, quite frankly, how we are born and that’s all there is to it. It’s one of those “take it or leave it” things because that’s how we are, and we’re not going to change. We are going to live our entire lives this way, so instead of trying to make everything easier for us temporarily, why can’t the schools focus on letting us adjust at our own pace to the world as a whole?

Right now, I have a few choice words for a couple of the programs that I have been in and gotten out of: I am ashamed. How can we trust the future to these kids? After high school, where are they going to go? Because, I doubt the kids that are already having kids at seventeen will go to college when he graduate with F’s on their report cards. How can I feel safe with you in a world where they will be the role models? It causes me to be sick to the stomach.

I feel that this whole generation is messed up in some way or another. There are just so many things wrong with the way these kids are growing up, how they’re being taught. I can’t help but feel entirely at unease. In my peers, I see several things lacking in their character. There is no humility or compassion, no kindness.

Oh, it makes me sick. There are so many lessons I wish these children could learn, and I am determined that I do my best to raise you to recognize the traits I want you to surround yourself and your kids with. I’ll probably have you in dance and martial arts as soon as you can walk because they teach you the things that school doesn’t. They teach you control and dignity, the appreciation of art and talent, and they teach you to respect your body.

Some things can’t be taught, they can only be learned through firsthand experience, but I feel that the world’s refusal to do anything about it is stifling. I can’t say I’ll be the best mom ever, but I’ll be the best mom I can be regardless and, in my eyes, teaching you the most I can about being yourself in a world where people will try to “fix” you is going to be one of my priorities.

Love,

Your Teen Mom

[luvalilwriter-blog]

Seductress

She drags herself through the mud every morning

Then she looks around her and sees no one else is going to save her

So she thumps her fist against the ground and picks herself off the floor

She arms herself with a candy coated smile and gives each sling her best shot

  It’s not her fists one should fear

Oh no, she’s a master at seduction and that’s her deadliest power

With a snap of her fingers, she’ll have you dancing in her palm

On your knees, you’ll look up and see her crimson smile even in your dreams

  She’s like red roses on a clear summer night

Or the sweetest wine at the dinner table

She’s the whisper of the wind in your ear

And the softest flicker of a passionate flame

She’s the dawn sun on the glow of a new horizon

  Oh, but she’s a seductress and she’s picked her target

She’ll come wearing the highest heels and her best dress

Here she comes and I think she’s after you

  When she’s alone, there’s no life in those pretty eyes

But when she smiles, why, it’s a wonder she isn’t the life of every party

She’s got the voice of a sinner and you’d better bet

That when she sings her tune, boy, you’ll be dancing to it

You’re just like the rest of us and there ain’t no denying it

There’s no resisting it because she’s a wicked one

  She’ll have you on your knees with just a smile

And even if you say you won’t

You’ll lose your heart when she speaks your name

And she’ll play the strings of your heart just like a fiddle

Maybe she’ll smile that smile just for you

But you ought to remember

  She’s seduction at its sweetest image

And, oh, she knows what she does

You’ll hand over your soul on a silver platter

Then she’ll walk away and take all the sun with her

You can’t survive without her once you’ve had her

But her love’s a poison and it shows its form in heartbreak

[luvalilwriter-blog]

Dear my Daughter, Week One

Sometime in the next ten to fifteen years, I will have a child and there are so many things I want to tell you. Because you are not here, I will write these letters to you, and while gender really doesn’t matter to me in the slightest, I will use the feminine just for ease’s sake (if you’re a boy… well, maybe I’ll have time to back edit?).

I don’t know who I will have become by the time you finally come around but I think I ought to give you some sort of pre-warning anyway - your mother isn’t quite right in the head. For as long as I can remember, I have been battling myself and my emotions, fighting along this fine line of passion and insanity. There are so many things to tell you and really, I just don’t know where to start.

Well, I guess the best place to start would be telling you just how much I have wanted you. There is nothing I could possibly want more and, as strange as it must sound, there is not a single day that I can remember where I have not thought about you. Like a lingering ghost, your presence clings to my consciousness and I almost cannot wait to hold you. There is just something about being depended on and being responsible for another human being that just resonates deep inside of me.

But wait! I’m not ready yet! I’m way too young to be having kids at my age and I recognize that, even if it pains me to say so, I hope you don’t come for at least another six or seven years. I can’t devote myself to you if I haven’t found myself yet and I want you to only be graced with the best of me. I’m too young, too insecure and too afraid to be the best parent I can be for you and the best is what you deserve, so take your time and when we’re all ready, I’ll be more than overjoyed to have you here with me.

In the mean time, these letters are here for me as a coping mechanism and for me to tell you all the little things about me that you may not ever even realize that I am. But most of all, I guess I just want to show that I’m not perfect, that I make mistakes, and that sometimes I say all the wrong things even when I try my hardest to be perfect. I’m a perfectionist and it’s sometimes so hard to be okay with not being perfect.

Technically, it’s just really hard to be a teenager at all these days. I’m just like every other kid out there, lost and unsure of her place in the world, but I’m also a little not like everyone else too. I’m a little un-social and I don’t really like people, I hate being touched and I’m grouchy almost all the time. I hate waking up and depression’s a vacuum to my inspiration. Sometimes I feel a little emotionless, like there’s just nothing inside of me at all, and that’s when I think of you.

Well, today was about introductions and all the warning’s I give out to potential friends before they get too close.

Love,

Your Teen Mom

Ps. We all grow up, but sometimes it’s nice to just allow ourselves time to relax and enjoy being the young’uns that we are. At least for what little time we have as children. I almost can’t believe how fast time flies.

[luvalilwriter-blog]

A World of Hopelessness

There is a world of hopelessness that dwells deep inside of me

It's a house built of all the miseries that have burrowed into this soul of mine

Somewhere inside of me... there is yet another piece that dies

And this fate repeats itself over and over and over

It does not resist for this is all it has ever known and what reason is there to change?

In this vessel that is me, the despair and emptiness is common ground

Yet, the discontent it radiates leaves behind a sense of dissatisfaction

And it makes me wonder whether there ought to be any change at all

Or whether I am simply empty of all but emptiness itself

There is a well of tears that funnels through my very core..

It cradles every tear that I've never cried and they seep through to my foundation...