Category Archives: Stories

story Student Teacher Thumbtack reaction

story Student Teacher Thumbtack reaction

the tackIn grade nine at the ripe age of 13 while sitting in English Class I conspired with *Roger to place a thumbtack on the seat of *Tommy before the teacher arrived back, from being called out of the classroom. Tommy was standing up. After he stood up he walked over to deposit his crumpled paper into the trashcan. I handed Roger a thumbtack I retrieved from my pencilcase, Across the aisles, no-one was looking in our direction. We sat but 30 inches apart from eachother; my desk being located in the aisle closest the windows in the back left corner. Roger placed the tack on Tommy’s chair. We looked at eachother, smiling awkwardly giggling.

Tommy had begun his journey back to his seat. We watched. The teacher walked in. We watched. Our eyes widened in pure excited terror. We watched. Tommy sat down. We watched. Tommy Screamed ouWAH! We giggled outload; silently we watched. The teacher had turned to face the class. The class giggled. We watched. Tommy pulled the tack out of his ass. The teacher watched. The class watched. We watched. The teacher spoke. The class listened. The teacher abhored the class with a mighty fank speech. Tommy rubbed his bum. No one knew what we did except the teacher who looked upon our faces.

My face reddened in perverse shame. Roger stared grimly smiling. The teacher silent. Our names never spoken. The teacher teached.

Whatever possesed me to do this, causes me to quietly laugh to this day. Sometimes as human beings we do things that are, a little warped, that could cause harm to someone else.
*Names have been changed just in case…

And speaking of thumbtacks. Have a look at ThumbtackPress. They represent and sell prints of artists/illustrators creations from around the globe. Their artists rock! This is the blog behind the idea of ThumbtackPress. Cheers!

In my anger I did not even title this post and have come back to write this as the title.

As a young child I retreated to my bedroom to under the blankets into my bubble. The bubble was my world where I could not get hurt, where I could look out and quietly ponder all that was reality without fear of attack because my ideas were not those of the norm. I just stepped out of that bubble moments ago again remembering, thinking, unable to focus on anything but drops of water creating rings as they landed on the inside of my eylids chrystaline clear. I am tired of being misunderstood.

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Addiction Hurts Just Like Any Other Disease

Birds on wires

There are times when we need to go back to remember how we arrived to, today. Tonight I traveled back to a night that I lived through. On Friday, August 19, 2005 I had written a very convoluted email to my employer essentially giving notice that I quit. That evening turned into night.

Early that Saturday morning I wrote:

3AM Saturday morning

Go play a game he says. But what game do I play. The game of writing comes to mind. I don’t like feeling anxiety and I don’t particularly like the feeling of my heart pounding so hard that it’s going to come out of my chest.

I don’t want to work for blank blank. Maybe he and Eric are right. I should be on meds. Fuck that. I will be ok.

I am having the worst hot flash right now. My feet have been frozen for days and sweating and cold.

However I have had extreme moments of clarity. So clear about where I am and dreams of what I want to do…

I went on to write:

Living with shame, self doubt and anxiety on a daily basis is, in fact slowly killing me.
…inside I’m a thirteen year old girl unable to say no to her mother.

…continuing later with:

When one takes a drug to cope with reality one does not see what is real. Only when one is honest with oneself can one see. Why does clarity come at 3AM in the morning? What causes things to just make since? How is it possible. How is it possible to quit one’s job during an anxiety attack?

On Sunday August 21, 2005 I wrote:

Early morning on day two, 9:15

Yesterday was my first day to regulate my use of G. I was up to taking perhaps 40 caps a day. And I don’t want to die. I want to live to see gorgeous mornings like today. I feel warmth of sun beams caressing my buttocks to feet. I’m clad in a huge white cotton sweater and 3/4 length black stretch pants.

At this time yesterday I was pacing in the apartment and took 4 maybe 10 caps of G unable to shut my mind down nor to accept the many racing thoughts in it. At 12:30 I awoke on the futon somewhat calm knowing I was lucky to be alive. My heart had been beating so fast that night I had begged for death watching myself from afar.

Eric arose at 1:30 and I tried to put on a brave face. I had brushed the dog, and broke down and told him the truth.

When you are addicted… I’m at a loss for words right now. The memory of that weekend has been present in my mind lately. Maybe the weather is stirring it up? Maybe it is because those dates are drawing near? I guess those three days will forever be remembered by me. I think a part of me died that weekend. It makes me so sad, because I can’t comprehend how I got there, in the first place. If it, were not for Eric helping me those first two nights and days of self detoxing at home I would not be here right now. The above are brief entries I wrote in haste during those days. They do not even begin to describe the physical and mental anguish I felt while beginning to taper off G. I knew, and Eric knew if I cut cold turkey I could die from the detox so tapering was the only option. I would not leave my home. I could not eat nor could I sleep. My skin broke out in a hundred pimples and began crawling with sensitivity. All my senses hurt.

I am so sorry Eric that you had to see me that way. I love you.

On Monday morning we went to the doctor for help. I have a journal entry for that day also, which in time I may read and then post. I hope this gives people some insight that addiction is real and that it hurts just like any other disease. And like any other disease you need time to heal, time to remember and then be in the present.

*The painting at the top I painted for Eric a few weeks later in mid September 2005.

Feeling is not Knowing

What if you are doing all you can? What if there is this loop, a circle that had a small opening to step into. You somehow wound up stepping into to it essentially closing the small opening. You are rolling along now. The circle travels all around. Then something odd happens – the circle after visiting everything begins to repeat itself. The first few times around are nice because they feel familiar and the circle takes comfort in this. On the seventh or eigth time looping around, the circle develops anxiety. All it knows is always the same and it misses the little gap that allowed for new intriguing ideas to form in.

There comes a time when all your ideas either have to be laid to rest or acted upon. If you lay them to rest for too long you will find that in time those unexecuted ideas will eventually come full circle needing attention again.

My life has come full circle. I am asking the same questions, repeating learned patterns unable to fully grasp my intention over fear. My intention is honorable, however feeling what to do is not akin to knowing how to do it.

Out of Madness

Out of MadnessWe are all part of the movement.
Not any one of us is the movement.

Without hate there is no love.
With no fear excitement would not exist.

If you were punched repeatedly in the stomach for one full minute perhaps it could take up to five days to heal. Society, would accept this. However, if you were verbally assaulted for one minute, they (society) would keep walking.

I wrote this after having been harassed verbally by an ex-employer. To this day it’s astonishing how physical assault and verbal assault are not equally recognized in society. Mental wounds simply cannot be seen immediately. Madness descends eventually…

Mangling Causality

Sometimes people place fault, pass blame or simply fabricate something wrong with a person(s) when they want to leave a certain situation. Rather than trusting their own judgement, their [tag]cognitive[/tag] behavior tricks them into thinking they lack the ability to leave on their own merit. This simple idea had never entered my mind until yesterday sitting with my councillor in her office. I had been speaking to her about my attendance at Daytox and my thoughts that those employed there were tired of me and that I was picking up wierd vibes from them. How ingenious my mind has become at mangling causality; I have simply outgrown the services Daytox provides, save for the Benzodiazapine support group. Daytox and those who work there have done no wrong nor harm to me.

Why would I even think that they are out to get me? Where did I learn this [tag]behavior[/tag]? Why did everything slow down within my councillors office while she was directly speaking to me about this? The words left her mouth travelled into my ears and my brain understood. What the fuck? I actually reiterated “Yes, I think you could be right.” A little voice inside was quietly protesting “No, no, don’t believe her” but, I did. Time literally stopped.

All of a sudden I understood. What do I understand? I have the right to choose. I have been afraid to choose. I have the ability to choose not to attend Daytox without fear of being punished. Who would punish me if I don’t attend? No one at Daytox. Then who? It’s all in my mind; an [tag]allegory[/tag] developed and finely tuned over time to protect what’s mine. Whoah!

[tag]Anger[/tag] has a way of mysteriously seeping from humans. Out of fear, we react. We could scream, we cry, laugh, lie, hit, freeze, chase, shun or even die in the face of fear. Fear is our reflection in the mirrior. [tag]Fear[/tag] is assuming you have lost control. Fear is akin to addiction. [tag]Addiction[/tag] mothers the child lost. And being lost is lonely.

This lightbulb switched on yesterday. How can something be learned and understood so instantaniously? It almost felt like taking a [tag]drug[/tag] for the first time. I still feel the efftects today. Thank you Councillor A.

I left her office and proceeded to walk home. I walked and walked down streets through parks and an apparently abandonned mini amphitheatre that appeared to be used for worshipping oranges. There were orange peelings everywhere. It bordered a busy thouroughfare called Clark Drive and was close to a skytrain station. I sat down to rest creating stories up about the citrus loving people who come here to worship the God of Orange. I smoked a cigarette then continued exploring my way home using the northern mountains as my guide I diagonalled through the East Side.

29 Questions Answered

If you continually ask yourself questions will you ever decide? Probably not. The act of making a decision or the lack there of is at the heart of anxiety and ADHD. Today I’ll present you some answers to questions I asked in my previous post. The questions could be asked by anyone to anyone else. They are not relevant to me alone. You may relate to the question or the answer and possibly agree or disagree to either.

I placed italicized numbers beside each answer as the 29 questions are answered in no particular order. They all however form one complete idea.

Ok, if you have a website do you want to place advertising on it? (1.)Google Adsence and (2.)Amazon seem two likely choices to choose for potential ad revenue. They are both well established advertising programs on the web. I’ve not setup Amazon on Jessica Doyle however I have implemented Adsence. Like with food I’ll try them once and possibly twice and give them each a little time to simmer. And while the ads simmer (11.)RSS stands for Really Simple Syndication. and it needs to be fed a feed.

There are over 800 free (3.)themes available for WordPress to download. I have settled on using fauna. It’s flexible width, customizable and supports (7.)widgets; something I was looking for. I’ve yet to master the art of tagging with (12.)Ulimate Tag Warrior 3 (UTW3). I’m a novice at best. Tagging increases hits to your website through select words describing your content. Check out Technorati if you looking to search using tags.

I do not wish to (20.)work 9 to 5. I hope to (6.)make money through this website. I will ask you this; Say I set up a sort of (23.)raffle for artwork. Say this piece of artwork is valued at $100 and through Paypal, setup specifically to accept donations towards the piece of artwork that in the end would become tickets. Each ticket would be $5 and if you wanted five tickets it would be a donation of $25 dollars giving you five chances to win rather than one. As soon as the goal of the set price of artwork is met I will draw a ticket i.e. Once 20 tickets at $5 a piece are sold I would draw a name or email address randomly and mail your prize to you once you confirm your address through email verification. This would give everyone a chance to own original artwork. (18,19.)Through self publishing books of drawings and poetry my work will be available en mass in the near future through LuLu. I’ll also provide (25.)free downloads of my work in my gallery.

How much (5.)money do I hope to make… enough to cover my bills and living expenses. I’ve never grossed more than 25K a year. Most years it was much less. I manage as do most artists. At this point in time I put in five to ten hours per day every day, on this site through researching, writing and producing content. That is, in essence, working full time. You the viewer are reading and looking; in essence, consuming a product. The product is my site. (4.)As everyone living in the world today can attest, we as human beings need income to survive.

By staying true to one self an [tag]idea[/tag] becomes reality. By trying to (8.)please others one can lose contact with whom they really are. This is not to say that pleasing people is bad. (9.)It is however dangerous if you are not being true to yourself. By sharing who you really are with others in genuine honesty. Artists have a task and that task is to create. Artists draw from their own personal experience. Their senses take it in and your senses get aroused. Without artists there would be no culture. Everyone can relate in some way to at least one artists work, everyone. [It] can stir emotions long forgotten, take you to places you didn’t know existed or have never experienced. (16.)Art is the end result of a beginning.

I am 1.618 as are you. [It] is a number that the natural world seems to follow extensively. It is the Golden Mean. Click the Wiki for a brief quickie on what (17.)1.618 means. I (21.)understand this number… (22.)do you?

Ten happens to be the first number to have two digits that if added together equal one. We are all (10.)connected by the soles of our feet. Just think; you are standing on a tiled kitchen floor which is connected to the carpet going out into the hallway of the apartment complex you live in. This carpet leads to every other door within the building to every other human standing or sitting on their tiled kitchen floors. This carpet goes all the way down the stairs to the front exit where it connects to the stairs which connect to the sidewalk where many other feet are cycling, walking or running around on.

This sidewalk connects other structures together and also borders the street. There are humans in cars driving foot on petal connected to metal connected to the car and hence the street. The streets connect to other roadways leading to highways where other humans are stopping and going using there feet pushin’ petal to the metal! (14.)So yeah I’ve got a footprint (15.)connected to yours, which is connected to the rest, belonging to this world.

(24.)CBT stands for Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. Jessica entered into this particular session half way through. Each session contains eight classes. How many sessions did Jessica attend? Next session begins this Friday and she will be attending all eight classes.

I hate to love. I love to hate. (26,27.)These two emotions rule all other emotions felt by human beings. They are the embellishment of the human soul.

Do I need your approval? (28.)No, would be the short answer. Change the word from “need” to “want” and ask the same question. Do I want your approval? Simply by changing what you need to what you want can have a huge impact on your decision making process. You may be surprised at how different your answers become. I’d love to have your approval but not your permission.

Lucky question number 13 is left to last with number 29. (13.)Is Valium good or bad? (29.)Are drugs good or bad? It’s not a question of good or bad, it is a choice; the choice to do or not to do. Whatever you do, it is your choice. Whether the choice is illegal or legal, it is your choice.

We each have been born with the ability to choose and choosing may mean walking the road less traveled for inspiration using our own two feet for support.