WHY THE CAGED BIRD SINGS

This post was originally written and posted in 2005 on my original blog, Abnormally Normal People.

The caged bird sings for freedom. It sings as a disguise. It sings because if it remains silent, it will fade away and die. Many times I have tried to place myself in other people's shoes especially those people who feel as if they have to hide or cover up who they really are or conceal the lifestyle they have chosen to live because they fear the stigma and rejection attached to it. I grew up being the black sheep of the family, but even the antics of a black sheep doesn't come close to type of reaction created by someone who is homosexual. I can almost understand why some people try to lead a straight life, be something they are not and never feel comfortable enough to reveal who they really are. The inner turmoil must be devastating. Yes, I know all those who still say horrific things about homosexuality. I've heard all the arguments...all the pros and cons!!! I guess my views on the subject allow me to see the person as a human being and not as some perverted demon or freak of nature. 

Several years ago my mother made a strange statement to me one day. She told me that I had changed her views on homosexuals. Me? I'm straight....how did I do that? She asked me if I remembered the day I first learned that one of my female cousins was a lesbian. I thought back to that day over 30 years ago and remembered what an uproar within the family that announcement had caused. Hey, at the time I probably felt relieved because the focus wasn't on me and the gossip was centered elsewhere! Yes, I remember being told! My mother asked me if I remembered what I said to her when she told me about my cousin. I thought back, but I couldn't remember my initial reaction. 

My mother refreshed my memory by telling me that I informed everyone in the room that my cousin was the same person as she was the day before they all knew she was a lesbian. As far as I was concerned, nothing had changed. My mother said my words stuck with her and she knew what I had said was true. She stopped labeling my cousin and allowed her to continue being the person we always knew her to be. That acceptance broadened in time and allowed my mother to view others with different preferences and lifestyles as being just as human as she is and it made me smile knowing the black sheep can be pretty sagely at times!

Gratitude statement: I'm truly thankful for being able to view people's differences as differences and not in terms of making one person better than another. 

THE TRUTH IS A VIRUS

[Originally written April 9, 2009, taken from an excerpt on my blog, Abnormally Normal People, edited and reposted]

Truth? As far out on the edge as I've teetered, something has always kept me from stepping into the abyss. Truth? My pain and I have a very intimate relationship. It’s very complicated and the only lasting relationship I’ve ever had. It’s definitely a love-hate relationship full of angst and exploration leading me into places where I’m able to forget my pain temporarily. During those times, life has been wonderful and filled with adventures, but nonetheless those times were temporary.

Is there anyone out there who has ever gotten to the point of saying "I'm done"? Well, what do you do when you're done? What do you do when you look back at the life you've lived and see that it's taken you to a place of true complacency and indifference? Wow! That's a place I never thought I'd be! Anger maybe. Rage was always a possibility. Bitterness was always aching to be number one on the hit parade, but what did I get? Complacency and indifference salted with a dash of disillusionment.

Without all the gory details, I recently made a decision that possibly could be the queen of all my self-destructive acts. I know some might think anyone making the decision to stop an addiction... any addiction is a wise decision. Perhaps it is! What would one say to someone who is addicted to prescribed narcotics and muscle relaxers and who has decided to stop taking those drugs against medical advice? Hmmmmmmm! Go for it? Good luck? You’re a damn fool? There’s no escaping the truth. When you’re done, you’re done.

Truth? Drugs have veiled many of my written words over the past several years. Okay, for some that may come as no big surprise, but for me it does. What surprises me is that after living through the horrors of drug abuse at a younger age, I allowed myself to take the easy way out as an adult and become something I hated. I would like nothing more than to be able to blame the doctors who prescribed the drugs to me, but I can't do that. I won’t do that! They had a job to do and did it. What transpired was a perfectly legal act, although some might question the ethics or morals involved.

Was I some drug-seeking individual that goes from doctor to doctor hoping to score some decent drugs? Truth? No! My medical problems set me on the path of having the best drugs health insurance could legally buy. Unfortunately, the nature of the beast includes developing a tolerance to prescribed narcotics. What may work initially only becomes a way to take the edge off and feel somewhat normal…. whatever normal is I’ve forgotten.

After careful consideration, I decided to go cold turkey. Is that the politically correct term these days or is it only showing my age? I decided to do this withdrawal in stages thinking that it would be easier on me due to other health issues. Instead of weaning myself off my meds, I abruptly stopped taking my Oxycontin first and now, I’m in the throes of a nasty divorce from Percocet 10’s. The muscle relaxers were flushed sometime in the midst of all this madness. Has my last month been fun? Hell no, but what I do know is that withdrawal can be accomplished. All it takes is determination and insanity will take you the rest of the way.

Gratitude statement: I'm grateful for having another blog I can steal stuff from when I don't feel like journaling.

ARE YOU ABNORMALLY NORMAL?

Picture a person who stands apart from the crowd who sees things not in black or white, but in varying shades of gray.  Picture a person who closes their eyes and hears the beat of a different drummer, then marches proudly and eagerly away to do their own thing regardless of the consequences or popular opinion.  Picture a person who is not a polished gem, but a diamond in the rough...someone who believes true beauty is in the eyes of the beholder and that the best things in life are free.  When I picture that person, I see myself.  Who do you see? 

Put your thinking cap on and describe yourself! Be honest! Mildred is dusting off the cobwebs from the "abnorms"for another spin around the block. None of the old crew is still around, but the new crew is filled with so many great possibilities! Hop on the ship and take a seat, folks! The next stop is the "second star to the right and straight on ’til morning..."

Reposted and edited from Abnormally Normal People 12/23/2004 

SOMEONE OUT HERE LOVES ME!

Oh no! This can’t be! Who would do such a thing and not want sexual favors in return? OOOPS…maybe I spoke too soon! Please read on and experience the mental orgasm I had from discovering/rediscovering how friendship via the ole blogosphere transcends time and distance. I highly recommend you add the links below to your list of "must reads".

There’s No Place Like Home?

"It’s my mother blog. It’s my sister blog. It’s my mother and my sister blog."

Okay, so I paraphrased a quote from Chinatown. Sue Me. I used it as an example of just how screwed up and fickle I am. After reaching the bottom of a very empty blogspot barrel and realizing I had nothing left to scrape, I did what I thought was necessary. I closed down and came back to my mother blog, hoping for some kind of renewal…a kind of blog barrel refilling, so to speak.

Unfortunately, mother/home/blog no longer offered sweet repose on her ample bosom. The old gal had undergone plastic surgery, an extreme makeover, a rethinking of old values and decided sitting around waiting for an errant son was not her cup of Earl Grey. Stupid bitch was out partying.

Not to mention, most of the kids I went to blog school with were no longer here. What I hoped would be a stay filled with the aroma of fresh baked bread and pies while visiting with good friends on the stoop, turned out to be disappointing. A post-it note on the fridge telling me to "throw a lean cuisine in the microwave if I got hungry" didn’t quite have the warmth I was hoping for.

So, I did what most ungrateful brats do in today’s world. I left my blog a mess, hopped a boxcar, and hoped ma blog would clean up the place and put a candle in the window…for the time when I would grace the ol’ gal with another visit when I was down and out…or in need of money.

I returned to the newer place I had shuttered a few months earlier, reopened and decided Thomas Woolfe was correct. Bye, Bye Blog American Pie.

Anyway, one of the reasons I had returned to Ma Blog in the first place was to reunite with my first blog love/kindred spirit, Red Kitten. She was the first person I met in blogland and I always felt a certain camaraderie that was warm and fuzzy from the get-go. She left the Spaces ship last year, and though I missed her and checked for her return often, I never did more than that. (I never claimed to be a good son or a good friend.) I always have good intentions, but…well, enough of my deficiencies.

Point is, RK was gone and ol’ ma blog was out doing her Thouroughly Modern Millie thing. What reason did I have to stay? Spaces still moved like compacted shit through a diseased colon and…

Well, bust my buttons, Dorothy, Red Kitten has returned from the land of OZ. Of course, I’m somewhere else on the Yellow Brick Road, hawking home-made poppyseed bread and pastries, but it sure is nice to see her safe and sound in her own backyard. Now, if she would just ditch the blue gingham and pigtails.

If, for some reason, someone stumbles upon this roadside stand, do yourself a favor (after buying a poppyseed brownie and an apple smoothie from yours truly) and head on over to Abnormally Normal People. Find out what truth in bloggertising is all about.

Me? I’m At The Altar of My Ego if you’re interested. I’ll be the one sticking straw down my tin jockstrap in an effort to ease the pain of, you know, wearing a tin jockstrap (tin doesn’t breathe, damnit).

COMMENTS 

Wayward
MAY 9, 2009 AT 6:03 AM EDIT
Karen,Nice post, but is it really love….Happy Mother’s Day! 

Peace, Love, Hippie Stuff,Wayward Bill

Stephen Craig
MAY 10, 2009 AT 7:41 AM EDIT
Dear Karen, Wishing you a very Happy Mother’s Day and As ever be well


Jock
MAY 10, 2009 AT 1:35 PM EDIT
Karen: You do me honor, and it’s not really necessary…although, a mental orgasm does sound intriguing. It’s true, of course, that an internet friendship does not replace the day to day, face to face, but in these times, when so many of us turn to the internet for some kind of connection, I’ll take whatever I can get. Now, about those sexual favors….Wayward Bill: Love is a many nuanced and multi-definitioned word. I can’t love Karen in the physical sense, but I can love what she stands for, what she’s been through in life, and what she brings to the table in a relationship. Does the fact that I will probably never meet her negate the "L" word. Hardly. She’s also smart enough to know that. But to makes things clearer for you, let me simply say…I love her for who she is. By the way, Karen: Hope your Mother’s day is filled with all kinds of love.

EbonyWyvernDragon
MAY 10, 2009 AT 2:17 PM EDIT
Happy Mommy’s Day, my friend! Dragon

ARE YOU ABNORMALLY NORMAL?

Picture a person who stands apart from the crowd who sees things not in black or white, but in varying shades of gray.  Picture a person who closes their eyes and hears the beat of a different drummer, then marches proudly and eagerly away to do their own thing regardless of the consequences or popular opinion.  Picture a person who is not a polished gem, but a diamond in the rough...someone who believes true beauty is in the eyes of the beholder and that the best things in life are free.  When I picture this person, I see myself.  Who do you see?