Why Therapy and Mindfulness does not work for people like me. Don’t make me angry. You won’t like me when I’m angry. Watch Out!! Imma bought pull out a can of Whoop Ass on you! Love & Light. Well Let me Light yo’ dumb ass right up!!
I’m about to whip somebodys ass 🙂
Tyler Perry’s Madea Goes to Jail – 12. “Anger Management”
How to take care of a Smart-Ass the Madea Way. Problem Solved.
Tyler Perry’s Madea Goes to Jail – 15. “Call the Police”
But Let Me Assure you, Now I am Living for the Lordttt… Lordtt Jesus take me ’cause they won’t let me in the Witless Protection program!! Hallelujerrrrr!!!!
Tyler Perry’s Madea Goes to Jail – 3. “Living for the Lord”
Excellent Health Reports from My Mt. Sinai formerly Roosevelt Hospital Doctors who are the best in New York City!! Got Good News phone calls from both my GYN and regular MD. All my tests came back normal! I’m totally and completely healthy!! My general practitioner did say I do need to drink more water and cut back on starch & carbs. Other than that I’m in Great Shape!!
STEPHEN VINCENT PALMER GOOD NEWS
Stephen attended a “Paint with Friends” party on Feb. 26th. Here is his artwork. Autism is No obstacle to Stephen. He is very creative and ready to express his talents!! Stephen has also successfully tried his hand with photography! I LOVE MY BROTHER STEPHEN PALMER!!
Stephen will be with me this weekend March 5th & 6th and we will take in a movie and visit local museums. A great way to end my Chillaxin’ two week vacation!
I have always seen and viewed my brother Stephen in a positive light. For me Stephen is my personal Blessing and gift from God. All of us have some degree of disability. Autism has been a Plus + for Stephen and me. Despite naysayer doctors back in 1963 who advised my parents to put Stephen in an institution Mom & Dad ignored the medical profession and raised Stephen to be a contributing member of society. Stephen will be 55 years old on May 3rd and continues to break barriers and amaze me. I know our parents are smiling down from Heaven on us!!
I’m a firm believer in selective sharing but personally I have secrets. I think everyone does. There are thoughts, feelings, emotions and experiences that I will never ever share with anyone for any reason. My parents used to say all the time “Don’t put your business out in the street.” If they were alive today they’d be appalled with these Reality TV shows/generation.
I know my grandparents keep secrets because certain life issues were better left unspoken and no one wants to keep revisiting a particularly horrendous part of their past. Since I’ve gotten older I’ve begun to piece together some of what they possibly went through in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. I remember my Dad saying my Grandfather never talked about his childhood growing up in VA. Given that Jim Crow was King of the South I suppose my Grandfather did not want to relive the horrors of the time period.
As for my maternal Grandmother Hattie Finney Banks well one did not discuss domestic violence. There were no services or programs in the 1930s so after my grandfather went to prison for murdering my Great grandfather (my grandmother’s Dad) my grandmother thought it best to make up a story that he had died in a coal mining accident. She had already went through horror, shame, & abuse so it would have been pointless to tell her 3 daughters (that included my Mom) or any of her grand-children. Both my great uncles (her brothers knew and kept the secret).
I found out a few years ago through my great aunt who went to my great grandfather’s funeral. Of course by that time all the participants were dead. My grandmother, mother and aunts have been dead for years so nobody could be embarrassed or humiliated. Age and perspective have given me the ability to understand what my grandmother went through and why she made certain decisions. Also why she never re-married. No judgment. I’ve found that most times discussing past traumatic events only dredges up old wounds and does not provide any healing whatsoever because it causes the victim to become mired in the past.
My Secrets ~~ Don’t Ask. Don’t Tell.
The few times I’ve revealed or opened up to so-called trusted friends usually ended in disaster. Confided in somebody I thought I could trust the extreme stress I was going through. Like last year when I wound up in the hospital. Psych ward. Horrible experience.
The drugs I was forced to take during this time period turned me into a zombie. I nearly lost my job. All my hospitalization did was make worse and magnify all my problems.
Akin to prison incarceration. The cure was worse than the disease. Two weeks of misery. The only thing that saved me was the advice of an intake nurse who said, “You’re smart. Tell them what they want to hear.” Which is exactly what I did. Learned to make myself small. Play their game and eventually I was released. Therapists, psychologists and psychiatrists want you to discuss past events that cannot be changed. I find that totally pointless. Why do you want me to tell what happened to me in the 1970s or any other time period? What positive changes would that bring about for me?
Mental health professionals have only made me more suspicious, cynical and jaded. I have found in general that the only reason people want you to confide in them is to take your flaws and weaknesses to use against you. A form of blackmail. I also do not trust folks who call themselves Life Hackers, Life Coaches, these Happy Talk talking heads who remind me of Maximum Headroom,or any other nonsense going around today.
Max Headroom, The Best Bits Ever!
Anyway I can truthfully say I learned my lesson. Lost friends in the process but I do believe I’m a better person for all that has happened to me. My Life. My Decisions. My Choices.
Through research I pieced together Grandmother’s story which in many ways became my story.
From Obscurity to Ubiquity All was beautiful within the subatomic particles. The new fugue will taste very very quiet when there near the top dissociative phenomena Pulsar. There is a hurricane within our Atoms. Doppelgangers are flung everywhere. Why you gotta be so Rouged? Don’t you know that silent decibels still go hopping along? She came out at the Debutante’s Ball much to the consternation of the high flatulent guests. BLT ~~ Black Tie Lingerie.
Lunatic started coming out of the baby vomit green-gold vapors just minutes after sunset. Large creeping rolling along mountain range catacombs.
Moon sank in the thick hazes and left me in the dark. The War is a Ghetto….And the beat goes on……….
The World Is A Ghetto by War
Lacey silhouettes against dying sunset, Stolen Voices. Tubers made in a devotee liberty flair. She was a darkish grainy vinaigrette set against the night sky. Her body and mood seemed enveloped in sepia monotones. Grainy images gave her a tenuous hold on the world of corporeal bodies. Enchanted worlds bobbed up against her flimsy flesh. Whether in the body or out who knows? Daughter Zion once a captive now free to roam the land. Protector and Priestess. Calliope and Cassandra return to Alexandria, a continent secure once more. Gauzy membrane in need of repair.
Somebody breathe the reluctant dragon…the dragoon of unicorns and fairies who light the Night skies. gAs on the bEACH. gAs on the sHORE. wASTED dreams once again ignited.. Leprechauns march over untested territory. Garuda Zinnia dances gyrating lost peoples ambrosia. Cobalt electric glide until Hart Island gives up it’s inhabitants.
The Jimi Hendrix Experience – All Along The Watchtower (Official Audio)
Come Drink from the Hydro-thermal Cauldrons of Death! The calendar hung limited upon the wall gathering reflections from 1983. Graveyard plots morphing into drainage ditches carrying bones meant for estuaries. A Spite house wedged between luxury condos. The facade lined with a series of gargoyles faces each blinking out a sinister Morse code refrain.
I am a Mermaid Lost in Translation. OUrrrr Bodies emit from waterrrryyy graves. Up thru trap doors suited up shiny bright sideways with red bejeweled bowels leaking excrement slippers across the ocean floor.
Moonrise stars reflecting floating bloated corpses. Dolphin pallbearers carrying razor wire inter lost dead. Burying discarded treasures. Lives forgotten populate this poor man’s Necropolis.
Espiritu en Fuego/A Fiery Spirit 