Looking

People worry about people 
looking at them.
I worry about me looking at people
and people catching me
looking at something
I probably shouldn't look at.

Christmas Magic

A child's nose smashed against the window
next to some frozen snowflakes.
The air outside is brisk and still,
Christmas Carols, Silent Night.
Christmas is magic
The trees and the lights
Letters to Santa,
Kids saying they've been good.
In hopes of getting toys and candy
hoping Santa Understood 
and brought the right stuff. 
Carrying around a warm feeling inside,
excitement and peace, 
Joy on Earth
Remembering the manger
The Little Lord Jesus at his birth.

Mud

Immerging from my dark hole,
I am covered with mud.
People looking at me
See a pile of mud.
It takes a hose
To spray water and
Wash it away. 
I remain a little dirty. 
When people recognize me
They help me clean up and.
I am back,
Cripy clean and happy..

Screaming Silence

A child failed to speak and people wondered why.
She failed to cuddle to react to those around her.
"Maybe she's deaf," they wondered
"What's wrong with our baby?"
" Sounds like autism," A doctor declared.
Bewildered parents prayed.
"Help us hear our baby's
silent screaming."

A Helping Hand

Early morning in my bed
I grab at the colored prisms
I see in front of my face.
My sheets are soaked
As I try to get up
My legs collapse
I don't know what's going on.

Back in bed
I think I'm in the hospital.
Between sopping sheets.
Spiders and ants
Crawling under my skin.

Suddenly, a warm hand
Touches my icy fingers.
A strong, firm yet
Gentle hand,
A comforting hand
Holding on to mine..

I'm going to be OK.

From Inside

In my hole,
People stop by to check on me.
Feeding me with kind words,
A few at a time.
I wait anxiously anticipating
their next visit.

Using Technology

Needing someone to talk to,
I go to my computer.
I tell it about my personal
struggles, desires and my dreams.
My computer doesn't answer me and
Facebook can be devastating.

Wasted

My used body
lies tossed and ragged
along side the road.
My soul is limp.
I lay crumbled and weeping
seemingly forever.

Room of Torture

Room of darkness
Being smothered
By an entity
Sopping wet and
Hating me.
Squeeze me
And I will ooze
Sharing my insides.
Creating relief. 

Conspicuously Invisible

I've lived my life
In the background
Always on the back row
Trying to listen,
But distracted and
Drifting away

I feel invisible
And yet
I am tortured
By my shyness
Being on display
My oddness
Amusing people
Making light
Of my discomfort.

Singing in the Bathroom

I have always loved singing,
from the waltz in Tennessee
to the reindeer I can see
by it's nose shining bright on
Christmas Eve.

I tried to sing like Elvis
in the bathroom at school.
From within my soul
I belted,
"Don't be Cruel"

Then came an interruption
a messenger at the school
My songs distracted students
Very much against the rules.

Writing Pictures

Sunset over the Ocean
Writers paint 
the orange clouds
strung across the
edge of the earth.
A scene written
over and over again,
with many different words
and combinations of words.
Trying to create feelings.
like peace.
Seemingly impossible
to create something
unique.

Funerals

At my grandmother's funeral
being a toddler 
I didn't understand death
or why we had funerals.
I didn't understand
why everyone was sad.
Some were crying.
I thought it was about 
the beautiful flowers.
Mom held me in her arms
while she wept.
My sisters Jan and Yvonne
were carrying flowers.
"I want to carry flowers."
I demanded.
"You're too little."
I was always too little.
I started screaming.
Mom responded,
"Quit your crying!"
"Everybody's crying.
Why can't I cry?"
I sobbed.
Funerals aren't fair. 

Magic Pills

Devastated with
Pain, agony
sorrow, depression
and anxiety
Suffering for decades
My mind as worn
as my body that loses balance.
The discovery of a pill and it's gone
and I am here
enjoying the ordinary. 

Injured Souls

Hate is an emotion
that everyone feels,
even children.
Hatred makes blisters
that swell and ooze,
creating a scab
red and painful.
covering our soul,
Making our insides ugly.

Stigma

I wonder which stigma
I should fight today
Will it be religion,
old age
or my medical condition.
I am a Mormon
Senior Citizen
with a mental illness.
stereotyped and persecuted.
The bible teaches us
to love one another.
You who are without sin,
Wanna trade places.

Being Mentally Ill

Whisper when you talk about it.
Be picky with whom you share.
People think of us as odd,
dangerous and frightening.
blaming us for 
all shocking behaviors and
acts of violence.

I want to scream at the world,
"I am not ashamed! I am innocent!"

The Present

We are told to live in the present.
what if the present is
agony, depression and self loathing.

We can learn from the past and
we can shape, color and build our future.

We are in control.

Depression Is

When your black world
squeezes your energy
Like a tube of tooth paste
left empty and flat.
Too weak for 
Anything to matter.
You could die
hungering for affection
And yet it's too hard 
to hunt for it.
Lying alone, 
Caring about nothing
Praying for a heart attack.

Beulah

A long time ago
an entity, Beulah
shared my room
much like a ghost
a demon
filling my whole room.
smothering me,
choking me.
trying to destroy me.
laughing 
at my suffering,
she called me a friend.
A friend?

Surgery

They cut open my body
to do all the corrections.
It seems like it only takes seconds.
Waking up 
I find myself an invalid
that hurts
for a long time
trying to walk.

Eventually most of the pain is gone
still feeling tender,
weak and dizzy
I  feel like I'm tipping over
Sometimes I collapse
I could break my bones
but not my spirit.

Yvonne

Always there
Always helping
If she doesn't know
The answer she finds it.

When I am lost in the river
Yvonne patiently waits
Gently she offers her hand
To help me get hold of the rod.
She never pressures me.
She just offers her hand.

Telling My Story

Telling my story
I write facts
Carefully choosing
My words
In fear of exposing
My naked feelings. 

Far Away

I can tell the story
but it's from far away,
spoken about a person
who isn't real
just a character in my story
I can tell the details, but
I feel absolutely nothing.
I don't touch things that hurt.

Jan

My sister loves me
and I am blessed.
She tries hard to
make sure I'm OK.
I love her singing
So pretty and peaceful,
Sometimes bold.
comforting when I'm troubled
She is bright almost shining
smiling
Forever young.

Kisses

What's so great about kisses?
A man feels like sand paper
and a woman feels like marble.
Kisses make me feel
loved, warm and happy.
That's what so great about kisses.

Confusion

Confusion is not knowing
Whether or not you are confused.
Not knowing whether or not you are lying.
Giving your life away
For someone else to take care of,
Because you think you may be too
Confused. 

Wher's Kathy

My family loved me.
We played together,
laughed together,
We scolded and
we told each other secrets

After having broken
I was no longer Kathy
I had become an illness.
Everything
I think, do or feel
is about my illness.
I miss me.

Living In The Dark

In this darkness that encircles me
I don't notice the upcoming day.
each day and each night
merges in to one 
Going past me
Leaving me here
in this room
of darkness and confusion
until I am old
Peeking through a crack
in the Venetian Blinds
at the outside world.

It's Our Turn Next

Get ready baby boomers
Crowding Nursing homes,
Assisted Living Centers,
Retirement Villas

Old age is 
Not pretty
Naked dimpled white flesh
Wrinkled
Like a piece of driftwood
On the beach.
Exposed 
Like a large infant.

People saying I'm cute
Helping me into the store,
Suggesting a walker,
Referring me to nursing homes.

As I approach my latter days,
I remind young people
Muffling your giggles,
You're turn will come.

Cry in Private

Trying to conceal my tears

Choking unable to speak

I tell myself,

"Hide your feelings.

Hide your feelings."

They mustn't know

How worthless, unimportant

I feel.

But it doesn't matter

Who cares.

Scared

The excitement
is making my insides rumble.
Wanting to share
my thoughts  skipping
                               in my head.
What should I say?
How should I tell it?
What will they think?
My forehead sweats    and
        my fingers tremble.
I try to breathe
in and out        Rapidly
my hearts beats in rhythm
My stiffening throat hurts
       while choking 
         on my words
that I decide no to tell.

Exposed

I put my life out there
to share.
Part of me wants to shout
"Hooray! I did it!

but then
another part of me
quivers
at the thought.

My Creation

Through dreams, ambitions,

advice and affection

I have created and presented

this child to the world.

My eyes see a beautiful child

and yet I wonder if

I am deceiving myself.

On the Bookshelf

Most of my life is in that book.
I have exposed myself,
My experiences,
My relationships,
Mostly my inner feelings
My anxiety,
My remorse,
My affection and my love.

Today,
I finished my book,
Set it on the bookshelf
And walked out into
A fresh world.

Prejudice

May father's generation
learned from his father's generation
how to hate
according to race.

As a child,
I used to eat nigger babbys candy
and nigger toe nuts.
I thought of these people
as story book characters
not real people.

On the bus with my mother
at age 3
I saw a real Afro American.
"Mommy look! A nigger!"
I announced

I discovered that this lady
had feellings
which I had exposed.
I found that
I cannot hate someone
who I don't even know.

I cannot purposely hurt them.

Number one

Studying my brother, Bill

I read some of his poetry

that reveals his soul.

The words flow

Creating crisp images,

Raw feelings.

Whether it be his talents,

his IQ or

Simply his loving, sweet spirit,

My brother will always be number one.

I love him to much

to be jealous.

Starving

I've waited so long
for you to come and
fill my hunger.

I am weak and needy
Anticipating comfort
Relief from my nervous sweat

But then you give me tid-bits
and leave me
Alone again still
Starving.

Passing

When I'm with you
It seems that now will be forever.
Yet, as time passes
people move beside us
and away from us.
Going from one life to another.
In different places on this earth.
We make our final passing from this world
one at a time
And we weep with every passing.

Insomnia

Can't slow down

Can't lie still

Headed for the door

I walk into the wall.

The wall talks to me

The ceiling falls onto my head.

I don't want to think this stuff

Please stop laughing at me.

I pray to slow down my brain

and let me rest.

I need to rest.

Bursting

Energy in my mind

Pulsating, throbbing,

Pounding on me.

I am a piñata.

I burst when pounded on

And everything inside of me

Is scattered.


All the king's horses

And all the king's men

Cannot put Kathy together again.

Judy's World

I can't stand it.
It's too horrible.
I can't handle fear, rejection and pain
I have to be smart, pretty and successful.
Otherwise I can't even exist.

I'm not really who you think I am.
I have a secret sister.
She's a movie star.
One of these days she's coming to get me
To take me back home to California
to live in our mansion
in luxury and sunshine
for the rest of my life.

About Budget Cuts

I have lived with mental illness for most of my life.  As I have struggled, I am lucky to have lived as long as I have.

The public has been concerned about recent acts of violence, even the killing little children.  The assailants were not in the mental health system, but they probably should have been.

Mental Illness is not going away, but it is treatable.  The treatment needs to be available for the people who dream up these horrible tragedies before they happen.  It is hard for young people to admit they have a problem.  It is even harder for them to ask for help.  Turning them away doesn't help anything.

There used to be a place in Midvale called ITU.  It was a residential and crisis center.  A lot of people went there usually because they were severely troubled.  One evening when I was hanging around ITU, I noticed a young girl.  She was about twenty years old, with long brown hair, very pretty.  She was trying to tell everyone that she wanted to die.  The crisis worker thought that she wanted constant attention and believed that ignoring her would be therapeutic.  I looked out the window and noticed that she was walking away.  I told a crisis worker, he said, "Let her go."  The next morning we found out that she had gone to a friends home, borrowed a gun and killed herself.

When we make cuts to mental health and close programs, we are saying, "Let them go."

This is not a good time to cut funding for mental health.  Are we more concerned about money than we are  people?

Beauty

Some paragraphs from my book




While in the nursing home, I used to go to the morning exercise group.  Most of the people there were severely disabled with crooked legs and arms and wobbly heads, yet they reached out.  Lin, a young lady who looked oriental wasn't able to talk very well.  She used to tease one of the aides saying, "Ahdy Fyuh" (Andy Fired.)  She then laughed mischeiviously. 

A young man took a liking to me.  He was brain damaged and in a wheelchair.   Every time I walked in the room, he get excited and waved.  These peole will probably be there the rest of their lives, yet they laughed and teased and got excited to see someone who they liked  They create their own pleasures.



I see a lot of beauty now that I'm able to notice.  When we think of beauty we think of nature, mountains and flowers.  I see beauty in people looking out for each other, to make life better.  I'm thinking about the person who stops to help when your car is stuck in an intersection.  I am also thinking about severely handcapped people reaching out to each other and laughing. 

I am so thankful for the people who work in mental health and I am so thankful for the people who did research and discovered Chlozaril. 

Query Letter

SURVIVING IN SPITE OF MYSELF is my 50,000 word account of my own mental illnesss and that of others.  It takes place in the 1970's through the early 1990's.  It starts in Salt Lake City, Utah.  Goes toVentura, California, then back to Salt Lake City.

Entering a room with a red tile floor, I see a table, chairs a pool table and some people gathered around.  This is part of a mental health center in Utah.  The room was filled with smoke.  People visiting, laughing, arguing. Some were sitting quietly.  A couple of guys were playing pool.  In the middle of this chaos, someone yells, "Beam up their intestines!  Do it Zorro!

I have lived more than half of my life as a consumer of mental health services.  We mentally ill people seem to have our own community.  This is a true story about our struggles and our relationships.  Its about being treated like sadistic freaks who people need to fear.  It's about people trying to support each other and watching as some of our friends lose their battles.  It is about breakthroughs in psychiatric medicine that has changed peoples lives miraculously.

This account visits hospitals, crisis centers, emergency room and residential treatment centers.  It provides first hand insight into different kinds of mental illness and their manifestation.  It includes many crisis situations and resolutions.  As you read you will meet some of us individually.  Take a look.  We're not too frightening.

I have been certified as a mental health case manager and a peer mentor.  I led a writing group and edited a newsletter for Valley Mental Health, in Salt Lake City, Utah.  I have attended several writing classes.  The Utah Association of Personal Histories has published one of my stories in their book, "One World, Many Stories."  I attended their Fall conferance.  NAMI (National Alliance for the Mentally Ill.) published one of my poems in their literary booklet., "Voices of the Mentally Ill."
 I received an award from Valley Mental Health for my "Insperational Recover.) in the year 2011

With you aurthorization, I will gladly send you a copy of my manuscript.

Mood Swings

I'm sorry.
It's hard for me to listen.
I feel flat and tired.
I look towards religion.
 by going to Sunday School.
The meeting hadn't started.
People stood in a row
shaking hands.
looking down at the ground,
I burst into laughter.
She stood shaking hands with
the priesthood men.
Her pany hose fallen,
crinkled around her ankles.
Now, How am I supposed to be depressed?

Anger

Don't bottle it up.

It will explode.

I wish it would explode

and get the hell out of my body.

Suicide

Suicidal ideation is a difficult problem for people who have a mental illness.  I have struggled with it for most of my life.  Looking back, I am amazed that I have survived.  I fear dying in that way.

Death is final.  Once it's done people can't change their minds and come back.  We don't know where they are or what they are doing or if they even exist.  We know that we miss them and are distraught with the reality of suicide.  Before taking a risk, they need to think about people who they are leaving, who they may never see again in this life.  For the people who love us it brings an agony, that doesn't go away.  I'm still greiving the death of my friend, who died in 1989.

Henry's story touches my heart.  Henry was an electrician.  While hooking up electrical wires in a house.  He made a mistake that cost him his electrician's license.  When he came to ITU, he was very depressed.  He felt like a failure who couldn't provide for his family.

He arrived at ITU in September.  It was hard to watch him deteriorate.  In November he was so depressed that I thought he would be hospitalized.  He wasn't. At Christmas, he went home a pass to spend the holidays with his family.  On Christmas Day, he shot himself in front of his family.

The following summer, I was attending a group at the out patient clinic.  A young man was talking about hia father shooting himself in front of him on Christmas Day. 
I asked, "Was your father's name Henry?" 

He shook his head, "Yes."

I wanted  so badly to say someting that would ease this young man's pain.  I told him that I knew his father at ITU.  He was a good man, but he was severly depressed.  I felt horribly inadequate in this situation.  The youn man asked me to be his friend.  I was honored.  The last time I saw him, he said that he had joined the army.  I sure hope he is OK.

What Crazy Feels Like

I could feel commotion in my head.

Emotions escaping through words

Which only I could hear.

Spilling over

Smothering me

Until my whole being was drenched.

Annoyed, uncomfortable and worse.

Wishing for a blanket to cover me

and bring me peace.

Recent Murders

In recent mass murders, even though some of the assailants were found to be psychotic, they weren't in the mental health system.

We can make sure the mentally ill take their medicine and we can lock them up if we think they are dangerous.  That doesn't help people who have never been in the system.  We need to educate.  We need to identify these people and get them into the system.  There are many signs we can look for while watching people grow.  Young people need to recognize their own signs.  They may grow up feeling peculiar.  They may have thoughts they don't understand.  They may have gruesome fantasies.  We need to make it easier for them to ask for help, before a tragedy happens.  At the same time, we need to fight stigma.  Getting help is understandingly frightening.

Survival

These are paragraphs out of my book, "Surviving and More."

I discovered that I walk in my sleep when I woke up half way out the bedroom window.  One morning I woke up smelling gas and having difficulty breathing.  I went to see if the burners on the stove were on.  Sure enough, the burners were on and the pilot life was out.  When I went to bed the night before, I was having thoughts about turning on the gas.  I figured that I must have done it in my sleep.  I turned the burners off, opened the windows and went for a ride in my car, while apartment was airing out.



Camping, Eric's Cabin

It was getting dark and time to go up the ladder to the loft where we would sleep.  Judy was ahead of me. 

At the bottom of the ladder she remarked, "I don't think I can climb that."

"You can do it." we said, trying to encourage her.

She climbed three steps, looked down and screamed, "I'm scared of heights."

"Don't look down.  Take another step." we suggested.

"AAAAH!  I can't go down either."

She wouldn't let us help her.  I had visions of her standing on that ladder for the rest of her life, becuase she couldn't go up and she couldn't go down.  Eventually, she slept on the loft.  I'm not sure how she did that.

One Person

Always alone
Never sharing
Even as a child
feeling comfortable
in my silence.
My whole being
held secret.

I am sixty six years old,
sitting in my stuffed chair.
Lacking warmth,
Missing laughter,
Hearing no happy words

One Person
Always alone.

Talking Eyes

Severely handicapped,
Stiff and bent
like a twisted tree limb
and a head that tips and wobbles
unable to stand
or use their hands
Their speech seems tangled

And yet
they find ways of reaching out,
whether it be by touch,
a nod or a smile.

Connecting
beautiful people
creating pleasures

When they reach out to you,
if only by their eyes that talk,
don't be afraid.
They like you.

Love My Kitty

She crawls onto my lap,

Nudges my arm with her nose

Begging for strokes of affection.

I scratch her head and

She rolls over

Wanting her belly scratched

When her hunger is satisfied

She walks away.


At the time of her return

I am preoccupied.

I don't notice her

Nudging my arm

and rolling over

She pounces on me

Standing on my chest

She meows at my face

Still, her longings go unnoticed

Oh Well!

Beware

Traveling through the forest
Hunting wild animals
Wolves, Lions and bears.
Bending tree limbs
Tripping on pine cones,
Being impressed by my bravery.

I hear a growling above me
Looking around
I see him, a mountain lion
Ready to pounce.
Clutching my rifle,
I take off running
squashing everything in my path.
Lucky for the lion.
He got away.

Walking along
Thinking I was home free,
I stepped right into a hornets nest.
My body was swollen.
My ego drained.
The possibility of a hornets nest
hadn't occured to me..

All Alone

Needing someone to talk to,

I go to my computer.

I tell it about my personal

struggles, desires and dreams.

My computer doesn't answer me.


In my hole,

People stop by to check on me,

Feeding me with kind words

a few at a time.

I wait anxiously between visits.

Introduction to Surviving and More

This is an introduction to a book I have recently finished.  I welcome any comments.


This is the story of my life which includes a feeling of being different, too tall and too shy.  It includes a mental illness that was dormant until my late teens, early adulthood.  The people involved in my life include, family, girlfriends, boyfriends and people I have met in the mental health community.  This story is about these people and about our relationships.  It is about anger and being annoyed.  It's about people trying to support each, yet sometimes making things worse.

In the mental health community, we have beautiful, good people who have an illness.  I am hoping we can look past our unusual behavior and love who's inside.

What I mean

When I say I'm OK or I'm fine,
It means I am tolerating
what has been given me.

When you tell me to take care,
I ask, "why?"

When I say "Leave me alone!"
I mean, "Please stay."
"I need you."

Shrinking

Feeling awkward and conspicuous
People gawking, gossiping and judging.
In my efforts to  become invisible
I shrink to a little girl
Hiding behind my daddy
who teases me
about gollywhallupers

My father
A sweet man
who always protects me.

Climbing the Ladder

You have to climb the ladder!
Standing in the middle,
Trembling with fear.
Never mind the steps beneath
Don't look back.
Don't look down.

Unless you want
to spend your life
Stuck in the middle

Swallowing Nails

A pain in my belly

I've been swallowing nails,

Forced upon me

by people who matter.

My secret

but not my shame.

Petifult

Imagine

Never doing anything for yourself.

To never fix a sandwich

Tie your shoe

Walk to your refridgerator.

Imagine,

Lying in your bed

Unable to walk

Because you've gone

so long without walking

Your muscles being weak and useless.

Helping her isn't helping her.

Sally and Lucy

 

They entered the dining room,

Sometimes confused,

Finding their seats.

Greeting us with a smile.

A picture I thought I would watch

Forever.

Suddenly,

Poof! They were gone.

Leaving only an image in my mind.

A vision I see every day.

Callloused

I have been a victim
so many times.
I have formed callouses
From my head to my toes,
and on the inside,
My callouses protect me.

So, go ahead
Ignore me.
Chasttize me
Throw your knives
and scalding water.
at me.
You cannot hurt me,
anymore.

The Passing of LeMar

Ninety years old

Skinny

In baggy belted pants.

and brown hair

refusing to turn grey


He gave me candy

and always waved at me

while sitting at lunch.

I didn't see him

slip from his body.

I saw and empty chair

that told me he was gone.

In my mind,

I could still see him

sitting there

Smiling and waving.
.

Nothing Poems

Nothing Poems

Hiding behind nothing poems,

Creating no images,

Telling no secrets,

Expressing no feelings.

Peek-a-Boo

I see you.

Bet you can't see me.

 

Painting People

Words paint sunset over the ocean
attempting to capture
comfort, sadness, peace
Our words are old and used.
Yet each painting different.

So many people in the world
matchless persons
our own combinations
of genes and circumstance.
Our poems mirror our existence
hoping to capture
Us our being.

Saving Sneakers

We got Sneakers when he was three months old.  He was a cute little black and white kitten.  We decided to call him Snickers, but because of his white paws and sneaky personality, we called him Sneakers.

When we first got him he was terrified.  He would go near anyone.  I tried to warm up to him by giving him tuna fish but he wouldn't be coaxed.  One morning when I woke up and Sneakers was at the foot of my bed staring at me.  When he noticed I was awake, he meowed at me.  That's when we became good friends.

When he was six months old, he started wanting to go outside a lot.  We thought he might be looking for a girlfriend, so we had him fixed.  He was upset at me for doing that and cried for two days.

He was also mad at me when I pulled out from underneath a car.  He was covered with grease.  He needed a shower, but he didn't want one.  Judy held on to him in the bath tub while I washed him with shampoo.  He was one upset cat.  Judy and I still have battle scars.

Sneakers was an unsual cat.  He liked to eat fruit, spaghetti sauce and taco's were his favorite, next to yogurt.  He was a friendly cat.  He made friends with other cats.  When I would walk to the coke machine, Sneakers and about three other cats followed.

One night Sneakers had been out for a long time and it was getting late.  We were beginning to worry.  When I opened the front door, I could hear Sneakers crying.  Sneakers had a cry that was his alone.  I couldn't see him anywhere.  Judy pointed at the roof.  Sneakers was on the roof crying because he couldn't get down.

A teenage boy said that he could climb up there and get our cat.  At that time, he was one year old.  The teenager was able to climb on the roof, but couldn't catch Sneakers.  It was getting late so we decided to go to bed, hoping that Sneakers could find his way home.

The next morning he was still on the roof.  We called the fire department.  They said it was too cangerous to send a man up there to rescue a cat.

I walked around the building trying to figure how he got up there was a big tree that was close enough to the roof that a cat could jump from onto the roof.  The branches on the tree we to thin to hold a cat jumping from the roof.

Animal services were no help.  They said they didn't have the equipment to catch a cat in that situation.

Our apartment didn't accept pets.  Judy got an idea to call the landlord and tell him about there being a cat on the roof  crying and keeping her awake.
They told her there was nothing they could do.

It had been three days and four nights.  Sneakers was still up there.  It was the middle of June and very hot, especially on the roof.  We worried about Sneakers burning his paws or worse his life.

I couldn't stand to hear him cry.  I tried to climb up their on the hand rail, but I couldn't.  One of neighbors noticed what was happening  and suggested we put some food and water on the roof.  I thought it was a good idea so I filled his dishes.  The neighbor stood on the handrail, putting the dishes on the roof.

I had to get him down. I got a chair, a wooden box and two cushions off the couch then piled them on top of each other.so that I could stand on them to rescue Sneakers .  As Sneakers started drinking the water, I told my neighbor to grab him.  He grabbed him and handed him to me.  I let my kitty jump out of my hands on to the stairs.  He ran straight into our apartment, to the bedroom and under the bed.  All the neighbors were cheering.  In a couple of minutes Sneakers came out from under the bed.
He was nudging my leg as if to say, "THANK YOU!"

Home Again

I was a baby in my father's arms.

While rocking me

He sang,

"I'll Take You Home again,

Kathleen."

Through each of my struggles

He took me home

and will again.

Our whole family will be there.

Together for eternity.

Hurting

When something hurts

We impatiently wait for an end

knowing that pain does end.
.
We often endure for

What seems like an eternity.

Meanwhile we rely on each other

and use our words as aspirin.

Depression vs Sadness

Being sad is not the same as being depressed.

While depressed, I put up a fight.

While sad I just don't care.

Images of Sneakers

I see him
stretched out on the bed,
sitting in the chair,
standing on my lap,
nudging my arm with his nose,
greeting me
when I walk in the room
and complaining when
I leave him alone.

My kitty,
My baby
is gone.

Being Aunt Kathy

To Marlene's children
My working in a candy facroy
was a wonderous, magical fantasy,
Promisisng them bundles of sweets.

Bill's oldest daughter at age four
looked forward to
playing with my house clock,
sent to me by her father
as a soldier in Germany.

I watched Yvonne's children grow
during their cross country trips
each August.
Growing so enthusiastically.

Jan's boys gave me
my most needed gift.
Knowing my umperfections
they gave me the gift of
acceptance and love.

Slipping Away

One hundred two years old,

She waits wondering when

She will slip away.

I wonder if it is like insomnia

Wondering when it will happen,

When you will slip away

Into sleep.

In an Old Body

I reached old age to fast

Though my body is

wrinkled and stiff

and my memory is leaving

I am the same person inside.

I do not ask you

to gaze into my hollow eyes

looking to see what's there.

It's me, Kathy

I'm still here.

Deadly Agreement

This is from the book I am working on.  It is about a mental health center, ITU(Intensive Treatment Unit) located in Midvale, Utah during the 1980's



While stting in the office at ITU, I noticed one of the residnets was reading the Bible.  She looked very nervous and drugged.  One of the staff members noticed and asked her if there was something wrong.  The girl, Carmen denied it and kept frantically reading the Bible.  She was mumbling about dying and heaven.  "Are you thinking about hurting yourself?" the worker inquired.  Carmen continued to mumble and made little sense.  When they dragged the information out of her they found out that she and another resident, Becky had decided to kill themselves together.  "Where's Becky?"the crisis worker demanded.  "Did you take some pills?" "Yes" Carmen admitted.  "Again they demanded, "Where's Becky?" "She's up in her room." Carmen confessed.  The crisis workers ran up the stairs to Becky's room.  They found Becky unconscious and called the paramedics.  Becky almost died that night.  The doctors had to open her chest to get her heart started.

I got to know Becky in later years.  I'm thankful that she was around so that I could know her.  She later married and had children who would not have been abole to enjoy her if  the doctors hadn't  revived her that night.

As for Carmen, "How would you like to carry that around.?"

Underneath

 

 

 

 

 

  We play and skate

on the frozen lake

seemingly unaware

of the frigid water

that lies beneath the ice

and threatens 
our very being. 

 

No One to Share

Gazing at my long fingers,

I miss my diamond ring

that shined so pretty

on my ring finger.

I am reminded of

My lost love.

I am feeling alone,

peculiar, unloved,

with no one to share

my not so ordinary story.

.

 

Striking Matches

With a book of matches
Mom sent me to the backyard
to burn the trash.
Staring at the the trash pile,
I was overwhelmed with fear.
As I tried to strike a match,
the feelings in my insides
was too powerful,
I ran back to the house.

Mom was angry,
Yet understanding.
She lit a match, then
handed me the matches,
telling me to do the same.
Nervously, I did it.
Nothing awful happened.
Mom taught me how to
face my fear.
Now I can use matches
whenever I want.

Terrified

Being scared
I hung on to
My daddy's leg.
People frighten me.
The fear has clung to me
through my life.

Being isolated and alone
is very painful.

I need to reach out
To everyone one in my life,
"I love you!"

The Top

I lay in the mud,
At the bottom
of a mountain cliff.
My bones are broken,
As is my spirit.

I must climb the mountain.
One foot on a rock,
I raise my broken leg,
enduring the pain.
I felt weak and unable.
With no one to lean on,
it was the only way out.
Raising one leg above the other,
sometimes I slid back.
Still, I kept going higher.
I gripped a rock with my hand,
then pulled myself up.
I was at the top!

The sun was shining!
I was shining!
I made it to the top!
I am the highest person
In the whole world!