FWF, Kellie Elmore, Pain

Uncle Wally

My name is Wally, though people used to call me Mr. Dawson. I barely remember those days but I was you, Mister Fancy Suit, a long time ago. I had a great family and a job I loved, until my life changed and I became who I am today. My whole body is wracked in pain, every bone and muscle, even the inside of my head hurts all the time.

Pain

Pain (Photo credit: Rickydavid)

My liver and kidneys are rotting, orange like rust. I have lots of pain when I am sober enough to look at my life long enough to remember. It lasts only a minute or two, then I pop a handful of pills, drink two or three shots of cheap whiskey

 

and vodka or whatever I can get my hands on just to dull the edges around my sorry life.

I got the needle tracks on my arms, but today I’m hurting with no more crack or heroin to get me through the day. My friend Ben said he’ll come meet me at this here bar. He still isn’t here and I’m going through hell.

English: 2 Gs of Tweak

English: 2 Gs of Tweak (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

People don’t believe me when I tell them that I was  a white-collar, middle-class family man for more than twenty-five years. I had a little office, a desk and chair. I was a loyal employee and where did that get me? It got me nothing, that’s for sure. I put in all my hours, never took a sick day once and still they let me go.

I dealt with unemployment well the first year, I went on interviews but after a year and a half things slowed down. People weren’t returning my calls, I would interview for jobs and they would never say if I got the job or if I didn’t. I would call up and ask and people never returned the call. First, I thought it was just me but then I talked to some other guys, women too, who had lost their jobs and the same thing was happening to them, to everyone I knew.

I’d spent my whole adult life working here, every single day, being the husband to my wife Adele and the father to Gordon and Jennifer. Why, my office was a mini-vacation for my kids. every year they spent some time with me in “Daddy’s big office.” I loved that, when they came in and Mom made us all sandwiches from home. She’d do something special for herself that day, like get her hair done or her nails and I was so proud that I could give that to her. She was the best wife and mother you could ask for in a person.

Liquid Dinner

Liquid Dinner (Photo credit: Rolling Okie)

What happened to the great country I lived in? No money coming in, now Adele was working part-time. Finally, something inside me died. I couldn’t stand it anymore it hurt so much that I started drinking a lot to dull the pain, I drank around the clock, I stopped shaving and wouldn’t leave the house. My wife used to scream at me, she said I was a “bad influence on the kids.” We fought all the time.

I was a nasty drunk too. Adele, threw me out. The last straw was when I got real angry, so angry that I slapped my wife, well, I pushed her and she turned pale, she was scared of me. She had every right. I was not the man she married. I was not the husband she loved, the father of her children. I was an addict but I didn’t want help, I just wanted out.

Description unavailable

I grabbed a few of my things and stuffed them into a bag. The kids were at school and Adele was working. I took our savings money and I left. I walked out the door thinking it would be better for them. I thought I did the right thing, looking at me now, three years later, I am convinced I was right.

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

FWF, Kellie Elmore- Image Prompt

Image Credit: We Heart It

The” haunted house” has always been in my neighborhood. When we were little we stayed away from it. When I became a teenager and my little sister, Dani, would annoy me I would tell her the ghosts from the haunted house would fly in our windows and take her if she wasn’t asleep. I thought it was funny, you know one of those older sister “things.”

When I was 15 I claimed that neglected house as my own. Eventually it became our crack house,but for the first few months it was our hang out. We’d go there every day, cutting Senior year’s “internship” program. We had a tight circle of five or six friends. We all brought drugs, I stole pills from my mother’s medicine cabinet, there was alcohol, weed, all of us brought food, Benny and Steve always had heroin, my best friend Jenny brought cocaine and chocolate chip cookies.

My parents had no idea of who I had become. All they did was fight with each other. It was pathetic how easy lying was. If you wanted to change your life, it was so simple.  Assholes. They didn’t even pay attention. My little sister played in her room, alone. She barely came out.

One night, at dinner, the tension between my parents was especially bad, thick like the humid rain forests, we had to study. Hard to breathe. I saw my  7-year-old sister sucking her thumb which she hadn’t done since she was 3. I was fed-up with their non-stop bickering but when I tried to say something both my parents would tersely say “not now Tess.”

I pushed my chair back from the table and left, telling them I had study group and they didn’t even question me about what class or where I was going, so I left. I headed to my real home, the crack house where I knew my friends were.


I sat on the floor next to Danny he lit up a joint and we shared a few beers. It felt so good. I tried to forget about mom and dad but it was hard. Danny said there was one thing that would help me forget all about it as we giggled together and he nuzzled into me and whispered in my ear “I have something special just for you.” He laughed and said “Baby. I promise you, it is the biggest high you will ever have, all your silly problems will melt away in a minute.” He showed me the heroin and the idea of escaping my miserable world was so tempting.”Since it’s your first time, I’ll even stay with you if you want.”

We kissed and I whispered “okay” in his ear. He looked so happy that I let him inject the heroin into my vein. First, from what I can remember, I felt amazing, lots of colors and sounds, I had no idea where I was but it was better than any place I had seen. I remember dancing to the music alone, smiling a lot.

Later on, I got paranoid and scared. I just remember screaming so loudly in my ear. Everywhere people were screaming and I couldn’t take all that noise, I cried from the pain, covered my ears with my hands but it did not go away. Hours later there was nobody left and the screaming remained. Apparently the screaming came from me.

I don’t know what happened after that, someone must have called the police because I just remember an ambulance coming and strapping me down. I screamed when I saw both my parents waiting at the hospital, holding hands? The nurse gave me a shot. I felt  asleep in seconds.

When I awakened I pretty much just felt stupid, only realizing then that my problems had just begun.I saw a glimpse of my little sister hiding behind the curtains. I tried to smile but she did not want anything to do with me. I didn’t blame her.

I really was sorry, I guess we all were. My parents decided we would all go to family therapy and they would go to couples counseling. I lived back at home and my relationship with my little sister got better, sometimes I even played with her in her room. The crack house had been gutted and cleared.

I was happy to see it go. More than happy.

Enhanced by Zemanta

FWF Kellie Elmore

“We started dying before the snow, and like the snow, we continued to fall.” — Louise Erdrich, TracksPain Teens (album)

I was weary, weak beyond anyone’s mind could see. It wasn’t just my physical pain that had failed me, I was used to pain. It stayed with me like a shadow every day and night of my life. This was different, this was emotional, mind pain that wrapped itself around my neck and pulled tight. I knew I could breathe but I felt like I couldn’t, like some evil demon was choking me, I could practically see inside myself, red, raw lines around my throat from the choke marks. This would be my undoing. I hoped it was.

I knew I couldn’t fight and the hysteria that I felt came bubbling up like a spring on a hot, dry day. I was out of control, lots of pills, lots of pills. Weed too. I could see the water but I couldn’t taste it or feel it. As much as I knew that logically, it didn’t prevent me from continually trying, again, the pain getting deeper, the vice holding my throat deepening every second. I was only thirteen but I had lived a thousand years already, I wanted to die, I was not scared of death. That was not a fear I had.

I knew what I was up against, I already had been living on the streets my whole life. It didn’t matter. No pills I bought from the street, that I dry swallowed, could lessen that inside feeling of feeling out of control. It was a horrible feeling, so I tried more pills, pink, blue, white, lots of colors. Like in a magazine, little pretty children wandering alone, not being able to find their mother in the middle of a busy city, constantly calling out, yet nobody would answer them. They were lost but not found. It did not have a happy ending. All these children could do was cry and be afraid and the story would finish just the way it started. I knew better than that. I kept popping more pills, nothing was happening to me. Yet.

Sometimes that’s the way the world works. Not everything gets tied up perfectly with a pink, lace ribbon, curled on the ends. Not everyone is a tiny ballerina on stage, showered with perfect red roses after a performance on their pointed pink ballet shoes. No, that was for dreamers and I was no dreamer. That was for people, the very tiny amount of people that lived in the rich life I never came in contact with but I heard about or read about it. My mother was a junkie, she lived on the streets, sometimes but not with me, no. I saw my mom who I called “Destiny” shooting up heroin in a corner, on a street. We didn’t say hello to each other. Usually she was so out of it she wouldn’t know me. When I recognized her, I pretended I didn’t. Me, popping pills, her doing heroin.

I was a street child, a crazy one at that. I lived here and there, whatever place I decided was mine for the night. The only name my mother ever called me was “gutter-child.” That’s the only name I knew.

Haiku Heights

English: X Factor Auditions View of the hundre...

English: X Factor Auditions View of the hundreds of hopefuls going through the vetting procedure before going through to the next rounds. Is there a future winner here? (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

EXPECTATION

Edge of seat, trembling

sticky pink gum, wet with sweat

her name called, door slams.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Pinpoint pupils, raw

heroin, addict, veins pop

Once his Mama’s dream.

A clandestine kit containing materials to inje...

A clandestine kit containing materials to inject illicit drugs. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

**********************************

FWF Kellie Elmore: B Is For Bum

English: Three drug addicts seen smoking a hug...

English: Three drug addicts seen smoking a huge amount of crack cocaine, in a downtown eastside alley, in Vancouver BC Canada. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“When you get into a tight place you, till it seems as though you could not hang on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn.” Harriet Beecher Stowe

“Bitches,” Anna growled underneath her breath, what the fuck do they know? These stupid clichéd words were written on a huge, dumb banner in bright red, thick letters right when you walked into the room. A bare room with folding chairs, a typical support group, she was there for what they called “Substance Abuse.” Yeah, you know, weed, coke, meth, snow, uppers and downers and whatever shit she could find to snort up her nose or inject into her spidery veins.

She had gone to court appointed meetings from jail, not like she had a choice, she had gotten busted, “possession of illegal drugs.” Big deal. She only had two more “meetings” to go to get her out of prison and then she would be free. These fools knew nothing. They didn’t even know that right here in the audience she was high.  Hopefully, if she was careful, she could score coke after the meeting but that was tricky.

What did these rich, entitled “group leaders” know about suffering and pain? They stood up there beaming, wearing their matching navy skirts and blazers and talking to us like we were a lower species. Oh sure, they said they had gone through the program too. Really? Maybe they used coke twice or three times at a party  and got busted or hooked and their CFO husbands had found out so they went to some private, fancy, swimming pool facility in a secluded area in the Berkshires or San Diego where it is warm.

They were probably in for  two weeks, paid the fine and out. Simple, easy, if you have money and a really good lawyer. That stupid banner was not for people like me, it was for people like them. Didn’t they get it? The world is divided into those who have and those who have not. My wicked step-mother is one of those kind of people, she lives in the land of entitlement, in a suburb in a big mansion, except there’s no room for her stepdaughter, you know, me the drug addict.

She and my daddy can have five martinis plus and smoke cigarettes but I’m not allowed to sleepover, damn hypocrites with their “own” children now. You know what? You don’t always learn when you are “in a tight place.” Got that? It’s not FOR everyone.  Me? I’ve been pushed into a lot of tight places in my life, gray, dusty, tiny, urine smelling corners and what did I learn? I learned to get out of that space and find another. That’s it. Some people like tiny spaces, especially those whose daddy don’t love them any more.

There you have it twinkle-toes. “Tides don’t always turn” and maybe I don’t want  this tide to turn. Face it, my daddy and I used to be so close, and now he doesn’t even talk to me. She made him like that, I know it. He doesn’t want anything to do with me now, the wicked witch of the north changed him and now I’m trash. So, you see that corner I’m in? Once I get out, I’m hitching a ride to NYC, to live in the streets with my fellow bums, to get drunk every single day with beer and cheap box wine and at night score drugs until I’m dead and gone. You think I want to be alive? Hell no.

When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hang on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn.

Harriet Beecher Stowe

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/h/harrietbee126390.html#CjQDWIeOXQhWKejR.99

When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hang on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn.

Harriet Beecher Stowe

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/h/harrietbee126390.html#CjQDWIeOXQhWKejR.99

Dear Glee, Just Tell The Truth About Finn. Please.

English: Logo of the TV series Glee

English: Logo of the TV series Glee (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Here’s a newsflash, drugs really do KILL young people. Yup, and guess when kids do drugs and alcohol?l Apparently my two started in high school but from what I hear kids are starting younger and younger. I have two kids in college now and I think I’m a very good mom and have good instincts but apparently I trusted my kids too much and I had NO IDEA  that they were drinking in high school.  My son said once, when I asked him about high school:”high school is one big lie.”  Boy, was he ever right. Watch for it, prepare for it, it will happen and yes, it is true.

I bring this up because I happened to watch an episode of Glee on-line the other night and I felt shocked and disappointed. Of all shows, Glee was hiding something? It was hiding something HUGE and from what I read about it when it happened, there were no plans to tell the viewers how Finn/Cory died. Are you kidding me? Why not?  It is an opportunity to TEACH unlike any other. I know during the beginning of the episode Kurt’s character says something about “I don’t care how he died, I just want to remember how he lived. ” Very convenient but truly a big disappointment. Life is not one musical melody after another in the real world. Glee has covered some amazingly wonderful and difficult topics: bullying, homosexuality, transgender, obsessive compulsive behavior, Down’s Syndrome, etc. why are they coping out now?

Cory Monteith/Finn Hudson

Died of an overdose of heroin and alcohol.

English: Actor Cory Monteith at premiere party...

English: Actor Cory Monteith at premiere party of TV series Glee, Santa Monica, California. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This is a show that has taken on so many important issues and I would like to see Finn’s/Cory Monteith’s death handled HONESTLY, not for me but for the thousands, millions of teenagers or pre-teens that need to understand the harsh, sometimes deadly implications of drugs and alcohol. This is reality, folks. True, we don’t go around high school breaking into song when we want with perfectly pitched voices but there is bullying and discrimination, popular kids, mean teachers and yes, there is most certainly drugs and alcohol. This is a show that has taken on so many important issues and I would like to see Finn’s/Cory Monteith’s death handled HONESTLY, not for me but for the thousands, millions of teenagers or pre-teens that need to see this. This is reality, folks. True, we don’t go around high school breaking into song when we want with perfectly pitched voices but there is bullying and discrimination, popular kids, mean teachers and yes, there is most certainly drugs and alcohol.

I’m not sure how  the last episode of the longest good-bye in history will go. I’ve heard different things but please, please just listen and let this be a teaching moment for the kids and their parents. Cory Monteith died of an overdose of heroin and alcohol, let Finn die the same way. Let others learn from his tragic mistake. Watch it together, talk about it. It’s a great opportunity to communicate. You owe it to Cory Monteith and those that loved him. Honestly, I think he would have wanted it this way.Giving his life some real meaning for others, saving lives not losing them.

Blood Moon, FWF: Kellie Elmore/ Mark

Blood Moon

Blood Moon (Photo credit: AZAdam)

Blood red moon

when the stars stop twinkling out of fear

there is a different air, like holding your

breath way too long, past the point

of sanity.

Crimson streaks of blood are streaming down the bold

crisscrossed striped lines on her wrists and her arms

like a colored waterfall,

past the point of pain.

This was the day, the day she had been waiting for,

to ease her troubled, drug induced life.

Heroin was her hero,

this was the only way she could be free, she knew that.

Blood red moon, outside the window, looking in.

Finally, she was slipping away, she would be successful in death.

I Would Be OverJoyed If ….

1. I NEVER had to hear about Anthony Weiner or his “wiener/weiner” again.

, member of the United States House of Represe...

, member of the United States House of Representatives. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

2.  I never saw any of the Kardashians/siblings/spouses/children ever. I’m sorry, I must have missed something. Why exactly is this family famous? They did WHAT? Related to #1? That just can’t be right. And the first husband is not the father of whom? And the mother has a talk show, why? However, I do want the nice sister to get pregnant if indeed she wants to get pregnant. Whatever.

3. a) ( I was going to write about Honey BooBoo but she is a child, so I’m not as tempting as it might be.)

b)   The government would pass an anti-papparazi bill so that celebrities/government officials would not have to WORRY about people chasing their children and hiding in bushes for a good shot. Car chasing is WRONG. Come on, this is easy, just do it. All those who have stood up to the paparazzi for their children Right you are!! Yes, you are famous but your child is not (unless you make him or her famous) cough, like some actors and actresses have done. Your bad.

4. The makers of Nutella would have never come to America because my family and I addicts  big time. KIDDING. (We ❤ you Nutella) We are so glad you came to America from Europe in 1983, We are thoroughly addicted, thank you and all we need is a spoon or our greedy fingers.

5.People/Relatives/Fans would let Paris Jackson have some more time to grieve and keep her away from the public eye and too much emotional upheaval. Give this young woman some supervised space with someone she can thoroughly trust. Oprah, Gayle.Rosie?  Any of you in?

6. Lindsay Lohan doesn’t end up dead because from all the signs it sure looks like she is heading that way. It is NOT a joke.

7. One teenager, one kid, would take Glee’s Cory Monteith (or anyone else’s overdose) SERIOUSLY and decide NOT to do drugs. I FRIGGIN MEAN IT.

8. Families could eat dinner together, every night not just once a week and  I know that is really hard. Please TRY to have some quality time, all together, it’s important. Let the kids have a snack, maybe Mom or Dad could come home early twice a week? Negotiate.

9. If the FDA would NOT approve something until it has been thoroughly tested. Tested. Except drugs for any terminal illness. be flexible there.

10.a) I saw a commercial that said “this commercial has been approved by the Hillary Clinton Presidential Campaign of 20116.”

10.b) I had the technology skills to make a large red X across #1’s smug, arrogant face.

Thanks for reading.

Photo property of the photographer, not mine. Trust me.

Enhanced by Zemanta

Because Jenny The Bloggess Would So Understand

A self-portrait of the Bloggess, also known as...

After hoarsely calling downstairs in my sunshine yellow house with white shutters and no one responding

I resort to messaging: “I am jumping off our copper covered roof

with a hamster between my teeth.’

That’s what it takes to get attention around here but the only response I got from MY Victor who is Danny is “very funny”

as I lay in bed sick with laryngitis and a wheezing cough

sounding like a Mickey Mouse version of Lauren Bacall who was a sexy beast.

English: Roborovski hamster

I have become invisible apparently too.

I message my family on their smart phones,

still no response so I resort to silliness like the wriggling hamster tail clenched

between my bloody lips.

That should do it, I think.

No, not really.

Doesn’t anyone have a sense of humor except for me?

I bet Jenny the Bloggess would understand; she is my heroine or heroin, either way. Or both.

This is for her, because she makes me laugh and brightens my day more than my sunshine yellow house and because I am a

true nerd who pre-ordered her book from Amazon and it is not even due out until April. Jenny, I live in NY so I’m here if you need me,

but more importantly, we need YOU. Your honesty and strength makes us all better people. Yes, Jenny, You Did That.

Dedicated to Jenny Lawson

The Fibromyalgia Fall And Flicker

NYC - MoMA: Andrew Wyeth's Christina's World

Image by wallyg via Flickrfter

On one of those freezing days we suffered through recently I forced myself to do a couple of errands even though with Fibromyalgia, the 50 mph winds and cold temperatures are not my friends. I was proud after I did my first errand but then I fell on a step, hard. I found myself sprawled and hurt in front of a store.  I landed heavily on my left wrist and right knee. I had to wiggle my body closer so I could tap my nails on their door. A few times. I felt like Christina, in Andrew Wyeth’s  famous painting, Christina’s World. Finally, two women came out looking at me like I was a drug addict, alcoholic, or homeless person that  decided to crash there for a good time. The women opened the door a few inches. I said “I fell, I’m hurt,  I can’t move, can you help me up ?”” I can still see their suspicious faces as if I had hit them up for some heroin.  Finally, a man came running from the back of the store and moved the bitches, I mean women, aside. “What happened,” he cried “are you hurt? Let me help you.”  I was so thankful to hear kind words I could have cried. He came over, pulled me up, then made me come in to the store to sit down and asked if I wanted some cold water. This man became my prince for the day.

Driving home was excruciatingly painful but I had no choice. When I arrived, I sat down on our faded, green living room couch, put my head down and stayed there, not moving.  A few minutes later my husband came in, looked at my face and said “What’s wrong?”  I said ‘I fell’ and then told him the story. My wrist was incredibly painful. Knowing my history with loose bones and plenty of breaks and sprains, my daughter drove me to the doctor’s office. She’s 16 and a half, has her junior license and she sailed through the streets remaining  calm, kind and mature.

An x-ray was taken and I returned to his office for the results. I was thrilled that it was not broken or sprained but also incredulous because of the pain, I couldn’t move my hand.  He asked me for a list of medications that I took and I said Synthroid and Savella. His eyebrows furrowed, his voice became louder and firmer and he asked “what do you take Savella for?”  I answered “Fibromyalgia” and then I saw it. The flicker of suspicion in his eyes and the dismissive nod of his head. I then asked him what I should take for the excruciating pain and he snapped like the arrogant lizard he was and said “Motrin, that’s it.”  He shut my file loudly and ushered me quickly out the door. Fibromyalgia is still, for some people, a mystery and a question mark. I hadn’t seen that flicker of hostility and disbelief in a long time; I will never see it from THIS  ignorant doctor again.