MisAdventures & Ramblings

All works ©️Autumn Bear.

[sparrowgoil]

Clinger

I wouldn’t call it love, not even infatuation, even stalkers typically take a reprieve.

She won’t leave. I tell her I’m done. Remind her that I never even asked her over for a cup of tea.

She refuses to listen to reason; the Sandman isn’t happy when I’m running late. Even less so when I fail to show.

She mocks modern medicine. Laughing at my agony.

I try to reason, tell her the grass is greener next door. Yet she presses closer, refusing to be ignored.

©️Autumn Bear 2018

[sparrowgoil]

Monster

When I was little there was a house that I’d stay at sometimes; and when I’d try to sleep the monster would stare at me from the closet. He was never anywhere else, so I assumed I’d left him there.

Recently I’ve realized that it’s the things you just want to walk away from that come back to haunt you.

If only it were the situations where I’d played the monster, coming back to say hello. That I could wrap my head around.

I played clean. For once I didn’t break the rules. I wanted a clean break, to be done and walk away.

But the monster has grown more faces and has learned to use his feet.

©️Autumn Bear 2018

[sparrowgoil]

Scared of Jesus

When I was younger I had a handful of recurring dreams; most of which would leave me terrified, shaken for days.

This wasn’t one of those, instead I’d wake up confused wondering why Jesus was coming for me and why the hell an otter was on land.

I spent the first few years of my life on a commune. Not the fun, free love, drug fueled type that typically comes to mind; this was all about Jesus and the word of god.

So perhaps it’s not so odd that this dream would always open with members of the commune in a circle on the beach singing in tongues.

I would watch myself all the while sensing my own confusion as a playful otter would make his way to the center of the circle. We begin passing him around, I take him and pull away, my mother screams at me, yet I continue to make my way down the beach. I find myself running from a long haired, bearded man.. Terror consumes me as I know that it has to be Jesus and he is coming for me and I have to keep running...

As I run I progress to my current age and all the while he keeps chasing me down the beach.

I always wake up shortly after, perhaps it’s because I’m a lousy runner and Jesus catches me. Or maybe I become the otter and jump back into the sea.

©️Autumn Bear

[sparrowgoil]

Inappropriate

It was nearly a year ago that I got the text saying she was dead.

I relplied, “That’s unfortunate”.

Since I’ve been told my response was inappropriate.

I had to agree, we were best friends. But then again I’m quite good at being inappropriate.

This whole rotten worlds inappropriate.

Dont get me wrong, I choke on those words. I really just didn’t know what to say in response to a three word text, “Psalm is dead”.

I didn’t admit that I shed tears for her almost weekly. That I feel silly as we hadn’t spoken in decades. Perhaps I feel guilty for leaving her, if I’d waited just a little while our paths wouldn’t have parted. That it took months for it to hit.

I try to write it out. The commune/ her disgusting father/ the church/ our lives/ her death. Hoping to make sense of it. Trying to find an appropriate response.

All I find is anger, tears and the undeniable feeling that I’m not the inappropriate one.

©️Autumn Bear 2018

[sparrowgoil]

Current

The sound of the river has always put me at ease. Wether it be rushing or at a complete standstill.

Yes, even still, empty rivers have a sound to them. You only have to listen.

The traces of energy left behind, humming gently. Asking so many questions. Leaving me at peace.

There is a connection between us. I have trouble believing it isn’t mutual.

I find myself next to a river rushing by at a frightening pace. Filled to the brink. Threatening to take me with it. Screaming at me. It reminds me why I’m here. Like it, I need to move on. The known roads washed away, my refusal to take them.

Scared of the unknown. It’s time. The only path forward.

The river invites me to leap in; let me join it’s muddy waters, be washed away. To somewhere better or worse, no promises just change.

The murky abyss reads my mind and slows it’s pace. It can feel my fear. It goes silent. Lets the wind take over.

The wind and I co-exist; not a particularly friendly relationship, nor one filled with animosity. It screams at me. Makes my head want to explode. Then my old friend returns with its strengthening current; only to whisper, “Jump in while you can”.

©️Autumn Bear 2018

[sparrowgoil]

Meadow

The hot yellow grasses wave like an old friend from the other side. Once almost a shade of green surrounded by dunes of brown. A barren sea now bleached by the sun.

I try to block these images from my memory. The grass and dirt never held good things once you crossed the safety of the fence.

Friends of a neighbors cousin. The first time I earned the nickname jaws. I learned to escape. I learned to run.

The dry grass, the sparse hot endless stalks, dry like my throat. So many of those pills. I was young, stupid, didn’t bring nearly enough water. So many little pills. The earth itches in the heat like my throat dry. I learned to crawl.

On the other side of the fence the earth cries long yellow tears in the form of a golden meadow.

~ For Psalmie, who was always there and never said a word.

©️Autumn Bear 2017

[sparrowgoil]

I'll take a leg

More often than not I find myself swallowing my foot. When I catch myself and try to remedy it, it usually results with me choking on my knee.

I'm not sure if it's gotten worse with age; or if I've grown more aware and now I find myself trying not to choke on my thigh

©️Autumn Bear 2017

[sparrowgoil]

A or B, Never C

I woke up this morning with a mysterious 3" scab that ran up and down my abdomen. By the time I’d undressed for the shower it was bleeding.

As I grabbed something to stop the bleeding, I realized that there are only 2 logical explanations.

1) Aliens are fucking with me. I’m not okay with this as I don’t know how to fuck with aliens.

2) I’m a super hero in a parallel universe. I’d feel better about this if I could convince my self to take a little time off from fighting crime; so I could enjoy some time in this universe.

I had to eliminate the 3rd option of insanity. As this afternoon the MRI tech kept asking me if I was okay after he slid me out of the scanner. I’m assuming he saw the alien implant or he knows that’s how we jump between dimensions.

There are only two logical conclusions.

©️Autumn Bear

[sparrowgoil]

Cutting the Cord

My frustration with pain management finally reached the point that I’m over it.

When hearing that I’m doing worse without pain meds, that I’m accomplishing less… he makes me fight to keep my muscle relaxers threatens to take away the seizure meds. When I ask what to do about the immobilizing pain, he says nothing.

I laid out how it affects me. That I’d like to run errands, see friends occasionally, be able to job hunt, be able to walk down stairs without crying at night…

He asked, “What are your plans for the holidays?”

I left in shock.

Currently the holidays aren’t an option.

Seeing a friend for my birthday next Sunday, just won’t happen.

I found myself back in front of my primary today. Not willing to accept that fate…

I voiced my frustration, my goals, my limitations…

He suggested acupuncture, I said why not.

I’m a firm believer in exploring new options.

I asked what to do about the pain in the meantime when he realized I haven’t been able to treat my pain since September.

I was gently informed that since I experience chronic pain I’m better accepting my fate and dealing with the tears; despite the fact that I was able to function before they pulled pain meds from the equation.

I can’t stop thinking of the letter from the CDC to a fellow chronic pain patient, that clearly stated the new recommendations were merely recommendations. That patients weren’t meant to be left in the cold.

It finished with the suicide prevention hotline.

Why would I call that number?

I’m 40 and being told that I need to spend the rest of my life isolated in pain.

I find myself wondering wether or not tell my nieces to live hard, fast, seize life by its horns and to never back down. As one day those those things may no longer be an option and at the very least you’ll have the memories. ©️Autumn Bear 2016

[sparrowgoil]

Facing Fears

Admitting the following I’m pretty sure makes me an asshole.

As a child I was terrified by my aunts inability to walk, and later her odd posturing that resembled the gnarled branches of an oak tree.

Until recently every time the Drs mentioned those initials, I’d die inside. Terrified that one day I might become her, gnarled limbs and all. My final memories of her bedridden, unable to feed herself. I assumed it was just MS, unaware that the symptoms I mistook as part of her illness were likely attributed to a movement disorder that can accompany the disease.

When I 1st got back the results from my LP, I was overjoyed that it was just dystonia. Unaware of the possible implications of the disorder. Don’t get me wrong I’d been told it was one of the many reasons we were once again looking at MS.

A month ago I stopped visiting the dystonia support groups and message boards; as I’d finally connected the dots. At the time I was in a dark place brought on by a nasty reaction to one of my meds and the undeniable reality of what I was potentially up against hit and frankly it was too much.

In the last year the spasms have worsened, my feet at times resemble claws: cramped painfully sideways.

Unfortunately I get notifications when my Neuro revisits labs. I see that he’s reviewing the tests they ran on my CSF fluid, my recent MRI, the blood work…

It no longer worries me. The monster I was so afraid of is already here, it just took me 30+ years to learn it’s name.

©️Autumn Bear 2016

[sparrowgoil]

Things I Wish People Wouldn't Say

I love you.

You must be harboring resentment, and it’s skewing your perspective.

We want what’s best for you.

The last MRI had alarming characteristics, that need further investigation.

How are you handling things?

It’s just a lesion, nothing to worry about.

Have you tried juicing? Maybe it’s gluten.

I’m scared for you, but I doubt they’ll narrow it down in the next decade.

Is your vision okay?

I don’t know how it’ll effect you, but I have samples from the rep.

I can’t help you.

Don’t they have a pill for that?

Let me turn on some lights.

Why won’t you let me help?

I love you.

©️Autumn Bear

[sparrowgoil]

Lost

I get lost in familiar places. Nothing beats only being able to see 3 feet ahead and nothing on either side. I know where I am, almost. Just not how to get where I need to be. I wish it weren’t literal, that this was a metaphor for where I am in life.

I hate getting lost for hours, minutes from home. I hate that when I’m in excruciating pain I can’t even be home. I shouldn’t be driving but it’s not like there’s a choice.

©️Autumn Bear 2016

[sparrowgoil]

No Refunds

There’s a reason they call them suicide headaches. It has nothing to do with depression. The boring in your eyes makes you wish your head would explode already. Nothing stops it. Like a good friend it will be back around the same time tomorrow.

Layer in a migraine.

You wish you had the balls to make it end. The one thing guaranteed to make the cycle stop and you don’t have the balls to do it.

So you start thinking how when you need something done, you hire a professional….

Sadly insurance doesn’t cover hit men. Theres not enough in your 401k to hire anyone that you’d feel comfortable with getting it right.

I doubt hit men give refunds.

©️Autumn Bear

[sparrowgoil]

Death Pacts

This place is so dark.

I want out, but the exits are sealed.

Spent the day plotting with a friend heroic ways to die, that would result in our beheadings.

We need more suggestions…

Decided the Middle East is too hot. We’d sweat out our meds too fast and wouldn’t manage to terrorize terrorists.

I want out, but to still leave an impact.

Something to justify this pain.

The truth is I can’t stand it. It hurts too much to act.

Joking about it. Plotting. It somehow makes me smile.

©️Autumn Bear

[sparrowgoil]

On the 7th Day It All Went To Shit.

Insurance nightmares…

The realization that I have a little over a week to turn this monster around.

An MRI that 3 doctors can’t agree upon.

Having to tell my Neuro that the bruising around my eyes is a result of 7 days of crying.

For now the walls have stopped melting…

The pain & nausea won’t follow suit.

Intense pain makes me irrational… Unable to ask for help.

Translated Medical Jargon: Basal ganglia/ thalamus, CSF regulation, “Cannot rule out…”

“Nothing appears to be wrong”

“Lesions due to migraines”

“Vitals just within normal”

These are the answers the experts give me and all disagree upon.

I’m smoking like most people breathe.

Caught myself counting…

This isn’t living.

I can barely function.

I don’t know what to think.

I can’t do this, but I can’t do that.

I’m terrified of needles. Now the 1st line of defense, 6 times a month.

They are asking for a miracle in 10 days time.

I will take that pill despite the class action lawsuits.

I’d bathe in dung if there was a chance that it would make it stop.

I will play Jesus

I will wear the mask, and won’t let it crack.

I only hope I can find the glue.

©️Autumn Bear

[sparrowgoil]

All In My Head

The last 4 days, I’ve checked my email like a love sick teenager hoping he sent me something. An answer of some sort. Specifically a link to the official report.

I haven’t had butterflies like this in a while.

Today when my phone rang and my neurologist’s name popped up, like a school girl I answered on the 2nd ring. Only to be greeted by a recording asking me to confirm my appointment next week.

The radiologist always forwards me the report before my appointment. I tell myself maybe he forgot.

I know what’s on the films, what they mean is a different story. I google the images but that gets me studies and opinions that all say there is no straightforward answer.

I should have gone in for a shot, it’s time. Although I know that could lead to the answer being handed to me all at once while my brain is absolute goo. It’s easier this way. If the opinions slowly trickle in. I can brace myself for the appointment. Know what to ask. Then have a good laugh when my Neuro says he had them swap films and that’s not even my brain, then he’ll show me my MRI. It will be unchanged from 2 years prior. Nothing to worry about.

I know that’s unlikely. He may joke, he may make coffee but I doubt my Neuro is playing an elaborate prank.

For once I want him to say it’s all in your head and mean it metaphorically

©️Autumn Bear

[sparrowgoil]

Bleeder

A few lifetimes ago I worked with a charming creature named Nita. She had a thing for popping pimples.

For weeks I had this monster of a zit on my back. Numerous hot compresses and it refused to form a head. I was going nuts but I’d decided I’d let her pop it.

One night I was sitting at the desk and I couldn’t take it anymore. Nita was nowhere around so I made poor, dear Mina take care of it.

It wasn’t ready, it resisted and finally birthed a gigantic glob of puss followed by what seemed to be a never ending stream of blood…

Being the dear that I am I had Mina put it all in an envelope for Nita. Just so she’d know what she had missed, and that we were thinking of her.

I just popped one of those on my face… Not one of the incredibly gooey ones … But a bleeder that wouldn’t stop.

It made me miss that world which feels as if it’s hiding away in another dimension.

©️Autumn Bear