Antidote

when she tried to create an antidote,
she added a small winged creature,
a nosey blue-jay.

With much vapors and steam,
the potion gave off an
electrical spark-
and the blue-jay -it flew away.

the thickened glass specimen tube
turned violent shades of red, orange and
purple.

stagnant, strange, she thought,
surely she had it-
the cure for the broken-hearted.

but as she watched wildly as the
bird flew towards the glass window,
endlessly flapping.

it was then she realized
her error;
to cure a broken-heart,
first one must relase it
to run wild and free.

With that curiousity, she opened,
the tower window, of the great castle,
she watched as the blue jay make its way,
up to the skies of Odin and Thor.

Her spell probably did not work,
anymore, but at least she found solace
in the truth. Magic cannot cure every ill,
which ails you.

Sometimes you just need
the right ingredients, other times,
the right core set of belief-
and first do no harm, harm none.

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feeling half-whole

IMG_20130330_093258

Its unreal.
My sister just called, she,
has worked in hospitals
the past 20 or so odd years.
I had emailed her,
about my CT results.
She sounded concerned, catious, yet
overly optimistic.

she is probably in denial,
about the obvious fact,
that there is something
fucked up with both
of my kidneys right now &

the lingering suspect,
is that there is a definate
possiblity of kidney cancer.

That is probably not the type,
of conversation,
she wanted to be having with her,
baby sister-6.5 years younger.

She cautioned me not,
to get ahead of myself,
just like my Dad and my husband.

But deep down i know,
something serious is going on,
trying to prepare my loved ones,
for the worst case scenario.

but they do not want to believe
me, and that’s ok for now.
they can believe what they like.

I just know, deep down;
I am only half-whole.

cat-in-the-box

cat in the box

We ordered a fancy new fangled-techno-advanced alarm clock-but this is all we got. he did not come with instructions, directions or batteries.

He lacks a “snooze” setting. He powers down for 16 hours per day. The alarm function is mandatory set to 5:00 AM. The damn things broken, we cannot reset it. And i think it ate its own directions. He came in a box marked “non-returnable” no refunds or exchanges…..ugh. Plus he’s used. Seven years old at this point.

Technology is so hard to figure out these days but i think he’s part android.

i need to believe.

I need to believe….

that everything

happens for a reason.

I need to believe.

 

I need to believe

in sunsets and rainbows.

in true love and soul mates

in Divine Fate.

 

I need to believe

that we all have

a calling; something greater than ourselves;

 

I need to believe

that love is the glue

which sticks my world together

and threats of mortality-

these really do not matter.

 

I need to believe

that dreaming of something better,

is somehow attainable,

something to grasp-if you do not walk past.

 

I need to believe

that love lives forever,

even if people do not,

I need to believe,

 

out of this tight and narrow spot,

I need to believe,

that things will get better.

I need to believe,

 

in hope.

Welcome home; in more ways than one

Damn it all,

as determined as I was NOT to go.

the PAIN won,

and I became undone.

 

I found myself at 4pm-home alone-

except for a sickly mother-in-law.

she had a car, My car was at the husbands

place of employment.

I has no choice, doubled up in pain, screaming & crying,

moaning even. I had to ask the heart patient, with

high blood pressure and emotional issues-

to drive me to an ER,

 

I was there five hours,

2.5 of which i was gasping to/

breathe in between screams./

they were nice enough/

I was a wild mess.

 

They ordered a CT scan,

they found multiple issues,

ones I had known about for almost 3 years/

tried to ignore.

 

scary words-like legions/renal masses/

renal cysts/poly-cystic right kidney/

and the oh-to-familiar,

chocolate ovarian cyst/ right ovary.

 

Then the referrals to:

multiple doctors/my primary/a urologist/

a kidney specialist-(which sounded a lot like nerf-ball)

-a nerfologist, a obgyn-(again)…even a neurologist.

they were not even referrals more like directions/

listed in my discharge summary…

 

All I can think is will I really need my kidney removed?

And neoplasm -just a 10 cent word for cancer-,

mu husband says think small, think biopsy, do not get/

ahead of yourself.

After all those hours screaming and crying,

its not to hard to get a head,

sooner or later,

one day I might just be

dead.

 

 

words take me.

words take me.

they take me, to places, i want

most desperately want to….GO.

words take me.

 

words take me to the heights

of sculpted passions, to the ends of lands, to the edge of time;

words take me.

they take me everywhere i long to go,

and even places, i do not wish to travel.

 

words take me.

to their secret-story place.

to that place hiding under a

blanket fort created of covers,

where your mom and dad

clearly do not realize,

you are up way past bedtime,

with a treasured book or two or three.

 

words take me.

they are powerful. they are strong. they make time sit still/

for you to look at them/long/hard/time & time/again

words take me.

 

do you let words take you too?

the devil and daniel johnston

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0436231/

there is a documentary about a musician singer-songwriter Daniel Johnston. He is still alive, and I think recently he may have put out more music with his band-it maybe a new band-i am uncertain. I just wanted to say this is a great documentary about living with a mental illness. Daniel is an accomplished Artist, Musician, and singer-song-writer. He also has bipolar disorder.

It is a good movie to check out the link above tells you more about it, if mental illness even interests you & its fine if it does not.

I was going to try to write a poem about him. but i kinda feel all blanky-blank now.

The Devil & Daniel; by Emily Sturgill

The Devils gotcha by the coat-tails again,

Dan you really better run,

the devils gonnna catcha,

Steal your music-lyrics and all;

and make your head spin.

Dear daniel,

the drawings you have been making,

are fricking amazing- but it won’t stop,

the demons from coming- right out of no-where-

they are everywhere,

I’ve got them too,

much worse than bed-bugs, are thought-flies,

they creep out of your brain,

crawl under your skin-and then what?

 

Is that when, you begin?

to write music, to draw pictures, does your art

really save your soul?

I’m just wondering because Art and Music, have saved mine.

You and I

are not so different…

Your somebody famous, while I am not, but…

I’ve got demons too.

in the end it all-always works out.

You just gotta have faith,

in something better.

 

the edge

feeling like i am

standing of the edge;

of the great divide,

between you and I.

 

by You, I mean that you,

in a sense represent,

all my brand-new,

dreams, that have yet to occur.

Dreams of so many things,

which others may take,

for granted.

 

I just want a 9-5 job.

I want to pay taxes….I never did because my

disability benefits are not high enough,

to be considered taxable income.

But I want to pay taxes,

I want to take pride in being

a contribution to society,

in some shape or form.

 

I dream to be the cog in the wheel,

the makes the wheel turn.

I don’t just want any job.

I want a career or a calling,

where I can help people.

 

I want to give a damn.

and I want others to give a damn too.

All these crazy dreams in my head,

running rampant like poetry

thinking which clogs up my head.

 

It’s like attempting to

write with a number 2 pencil,

that has broken lead,

and it fell out, and the sharpener-

is no-where to be seen

 

you are staring at a blank scan-tron

sheet and your teacher, well she’s

kind of mean.

 

That’s the feeling-

I’ve been getting, with this clogged

up non-stop poetry thinking,

it’s aggravating.

 

but here i am,

standing on the edge,

of the great divide which separates

that separates you from I,

you from I.

 

What now, I turn to You, to ask?

What’s next???

Now available:for sale

back-cover memoirs 2 copyWire Sculpture Memoirs Book Cover1

Memoirs Recalled Madness.: a personal account of manic-depressive illness
Authored by Emily H Sturgill

List Price: $15.99
8.5″ x 11″ (21.59 x 27.94 cm)
Full Color on White paper
88 pages
ISBN-13: 978-1483955384 (CreateSpace-Assigned)
ISBN-10: 1483955389
BISAC: Biography & Autobiography / Personal Memoirs
This is a personal memoir and one woman’s account of living with Mental Illness. The nature of the memories are as real as she can recount, however the Author chose to change the names of everyone in the story except her own. They are all based on real persons-but she wishes to maintain privacy.
CreateSpace eStore: https://www.createspace.com/4220732

****Also available on kindle for just $9.99

this is the kindle link: http://www.amazon.com/Memoirs-Recalled-Madness-ebook/dp/B00C145EOU/ref=la_B00B1GC5LY_1_12?ie=UTF8&qid=1364409444&sr=1-12

updates on “Memoirs recalled Madness” by Emily Sturgill, 2013

After, I thought I was really finished-I changed my mind. I decided that there was a bit more story to tell. So it went from being 73 pages to now becoming 88 pages. Still not very long as far as this type of genre goes…but it is very hard to writing a personal story when some of your memories have been blacked out from tramatic issues or simply manic episode issues.

“Madness recalled memoirs: a personal acconut of living with manic-depressive illness.” is now available again on kindle, with my revisions. The paperback we are still working on-it think it maybe available this weekend Friday or Saturday. This is because normally, I just take advantage of free self-publishing options. The pperbacks through createspace.com are made on demand, which i really nice because it does not cost a fortune to do this.

Yet, they offer a tempting on notch up-option- of expanded distrubution, for a one time fee-(i hope)of $25 per book. Normally, I do not even have $25 which says alot of not so awesome things about me-but basically-I am a struggling author/artist/poet.

My husband is willing to front me the money after he gets paid and thats not untill tomorrow-so we shall see. Like I said with my other books, I never chose this option before.

My other books by the way are mostly a blend of fiction, free-verse, poetry and some of my artworks. There are 7 total so far, just this year. 2013.

This 8th book, is more like a narrative. I tried to do the best writing I could do. It was very difficult to stay track on one topic without getting lost off to the left of right of my original topic and lost in the bushes. I did try. I am pretty much stable these days. but i was not always, and I thought it was important to tell that side of it too. It is all about my battle with bipolar. It goes through childhood to diagnosis, all the way up to my life now.

I was hoping to write a book that could try to explain living with a mental illness to those who do not have one but comfort those who do. Prices previously quoted will remain the same-I believe-$9.99 on kindle and $15.99 as a paperback.

I went back into my book and added a few personal photos-mostly of dead persons-because they do not get mad much. I was raised in a semi-abusive environment-with both parents having mental illnesses. As well, as having alcoholism in my family tree all over the place. I learned early on-that everything going on at home, was “private” or “secret.” which is pehaps the reason i feel guilty even telling the story at all. Also perhaps way, I changed everybodys name to something fake except my own-even my hubsands name-even though he may have not minded-all names were invented into some sort of fakery. I do use my own name. That one is real.

I even decided to omit names of places, cities, or towns….my thoughts were a story like mine could happen anywhere in the usa and i wanted readers to be able to relate to that concept.