A Dysfunctional Vet

My twisted mind…or is it

From a dysfunctional vet… 9/15/2016

 

I suffer fatigue

And achy pain

You blame my mind

I must be insane

 

Why the hell would

I want this crap

Try and sell that

To some other sap

 

I seek your help

You send me away

Off to the shrink

You’ll get no pay

 

It’s not service

Connected

Unless it’s your mind

That’s affected

 

They won’t admit

I took a hit

From that vaccine

Full of shit

 

Or sand box

Exposure

There was no

Disclosure

 

Just a lifetime

of ill health

No opportunity

For wealth

 

Who wants to

Hire the chick

Who’s always

Sick.

 

I’m sorry we’re all suffering but I’m glad I’m not alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DM 9/15/16

My Mistake (A toilet disaster with Poo-pourri)

My Mistake

When you’re enjoying the comforts of the loo

You have some private business to doo

If you’re smart and use some poo-pourri

Don’t make a mistake, like little poor me.

 

Refrain from spraying the toilet seat

As that mist packs some powerful heat

So watch out for that liquid fire

That was certainly not my desire

 

In case an accidental spill

Water will cause significant ill will

Douse that behind with some oil

That will rid you of your nasty toil

 

In the future spray in the bowl

And not the seat, an awful toll

 

DM 12/23/2016

It’s all In Head…too real

I scream with rage

Deep within

You twist my words

You think you’ll win?

 

You make me question

That’s it’s all in my head

Would you rather

That I end up dead?

 

You think I like this

Daily pain?

You rather I feel

I’m going insane?

 

What do I want?

I want to dance

I want to act with reckless abandon

Without worrying about having to pay for it later

 

I want to chase my kids again.

I want to play and go out without having to

Chase a pain pill first.

I want to live in the moment and not have to

Plan every little thing.

I want my kids to be able to know that

I can pick them up whenever they need

I want to volunteer at my daughter’s school

I don’t want to have anxiety over a concert five months in advance.

Where will I park?  What if it’s a long walk?  Will the noise be too overwhelming?

Will I need a pain pill?  How will I drive home if I do?

Will I be able to sway to the music and get into the beat.

Without grabbing my back flaring in pain?

Will I have to sit the whole time cause it hurts to stand?

 

I want to run again.

 

DM 9/15/16

A UC Parody of the Song Human… (Not for the sensitive types)

I can hold my breath

Cause It will smell real bad

I can’t hold it in for days

Though that’s what I want

Wish it were number one

I can fake a smile

As I run right out the door

I can squeeze don’t slip a fart

It’s too much to ask

But I’ll give it all I am

 

I can do it

I can do it

I think I blew it

 

But I’m only Human

And I bleed when it comes down

I’m only human

And I run and it slips down

The pain in my gut, afraid to fart

It builds up and then I fall apart

I’m only human

 

I can’t turn if off

Be a poop machine

I can’t hold the weight of it

If that’s what you need

It’s my everything

 

I can’t do it

I can’t do it

I’ll won’t get through it

 

But I’m only human

And I bleed when it comes out

I’m only human

And I run when it slips down

The pain the gut, I’ve got to fart

It builds up and I fall apart

I’m only human

 

I’m only human

I’m only human

Just barely human

 

I can take so much

Until I’ve had enough

 

Cause I’m only human

I bleed when it comes out

I’m only human

I run when it slips down

The pain in my gut, I’ve got to fart

It builds up and then I fall apart

I’m barely human

 

DM 3/12/15 UC stands for Ulcerative Colitis. Much like Crohns, I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. Thankfully, smoking cigarettes keep me in remission. Bizarre, isn’t it?

Hidden

10/28/2014 Dianne MacKay

 

It’s those with type A personalities, the ones who strive for perfection, the ones who hold everything in, that you should worry about.  Not in the sense of being harmful to others, but to themselves.  They hold it in cause if anyone sees them cracking then they lose their pride, their self-image, their self.  They’re the strong ones.  They have been relied upon so much that to stop now spins everything into chaos.  It’s not always realized how much they hold the pieces together both in themselves and with all the lives connected around them.  It’s too late to check themselves out, without fracturing everything so neatly held together.  Narcissistic?  Nope.  Just overly honest.

 

 

She had No Name…..

I was born a sensitive.  In time that was to my detriment.  Hold it in, don’t let them see you affected.  Be strong.  Be tough.  Instead, rather than show it to the world on their sleeves, it instead stays hidden, buried, deep, with a smile on my face.  No longer taking pleasure in what was once my guilty pleasure.  A world apart, my escape…no longer there to sweep me away and allow me to dream…  So I lie? No, I smile and don’t look you in the eye.  I’m fine.

 

Are there Angels out there watching over me?  Do they feel my pain?  Do they see me sinking further and further into despair crying out for sanctuary?  Do they hear my cry?  The physical pain is unbearable at times, yet I press on.  Life goes on right?

 

Where are you?  You see me, but you don’t… You hear me, but you don’t…  You’re here, but you’re really not.  Do you see the invisible tears silently falling down my cheeks??  Do you feel the pain rolling off of me so thick it chokes me?  Do you not feel the difference?  Where are you?  Who are you?

 

The pressure comes at me from every angle.  Pressing on every nerve ending and sending currents of electricity through my mind, exploding into fragmented shards of frustration, leaving me in an exhausted state of morose melancholy.

 

The downward spiral clutching at my aching heart pulling me in all directions.  The dizziness spinning me in circles, not sure where to rest my feet. My body falling apart to the mental anguish tearing me inside out.  Which will break first?  Does it matter in the end?    The fragile pieces of me holding to that one spark that refuses to extinguish.  The music of my soul clinging to the desperately whimsical thread of existence still lingering and burning within.  Crushing, gut wrenching solitude of depression as the walls close down upon me suffocating me into a corner of life where wild flailing of mental anguish seeks to rear its panicked head, pulling me under and drowning me in the depths of it.

 

Oh the tower of my existence, alone and isolated.  No one to catch me when I fall.   No one to take charge as the place was already filled long ago, used up and now useless to anyone else.  A place left for those to stumble in the dark and look for that spark of flame just out of reach.  Sing to myself, sing to my soul.  Pull the darkness down and me out of its tangled clutches.   Burn the pain. Burn it up.  Take it away in a wisp of smoke blown into dust in the wind.

Dead inside

I’m not alive.   I live for you.  For my kids.  For my mother.  For the few that would be devastated by my demise.  Not for myself.  I’ve long given up my own life.   I smile, I pretend, and I keep going just to keep the thread together.

None of you see.  We are all guilty of own selfish thinking.  How many times have I hinted at my miserable existence?  How many times have I cried out to have you say something in passing and not give me a second glance?  Are you frozen in your state?  Do you not hear me or do you even care?

 

Knocking on the door of death

Melancholy

 

DM 1/14/15

Bitter…

Bitter tears cascade a path

In valleys deeply flow

The joy that was once bright in mind

Withers as a faded glow

 

 

It’s not quite what I hoped would be

Expectations hopes and dreams

Turn bitter as realization gleans

It life’s long journey what I see

 

11/20/14 DM