The Man of Double Deed

by Anonymous

There was a man of double deed,
Who sowed his garden full of seed;

When the seed began to grow,
‘Twas like a garden full of snow;

When the snow began to melt,
‘Twas like a ship without a belt;

When the ship began to sail,
‘Twas like a bird without a tail;

When the bird began to fly,
‘Twas like an eagle in the sky;

When the sky began to roar,
‘Twas like a lion at my door;

When my door began to crack,
‘Twas like a stick across my back;

When my back began to smart,
‘Twas like a penknife in my heart;

And when my heart began to bleed,
‘Twas death, and death, and death indeed.

Roller Coaster

Let’s just say… it has been a very interesting two plus years.

I’d love to say all has been great. It has not. I have struggled. I’ve more than struggled. I’ve wrestled demons stronger than I and I have not come out unscathed. I’ve been standing on the edge of a cliff and this man has held me back from stepping over it. He does not know that he has kept me tethered here. He has paid dearly for my struggle even though the fault does not lie with him. He has paid for someone else’s mistakes. Anyone else would have walked away. Others certainly have. I have lost the best part of him. I have changed him most likely forever.

Even though I have kept on top of my medication I have been declining. About four weeks ago I decided that electroconvulsive therapy might be for me. But while researching this drastic therapy I came across TMS (transcranial magnetic stimulation) and decided to give it a try.

TMS is not covered by my insurance however the local TMS center I have been working with has approved me for treatment based on my income. I am ecstatic.

Treatment is five days a week for six weeks straight. Then twice a week for 2 weeks. I began treatment two weeks ago. It is not taking the easy way out. For me this is drastic. It isn’t easy on my body. Even though the treatment itself takes 3-4 minutes it hurts. I feel tired and my brain is foggy for several hours after the treatment.

I believe, however, that I am seeing results. I am slowly gaining interest in the things I used to love. Like writing and painting. I had lost interest in all things and people. I am slowly gaining it back.

I am hoping to eventually stop the medication I am on. Its side effects are not fun.

So today… for the first time in over two years… I am fairly happy. I can see glimpses of my old self. And her… I like.

Chained

Before I fall asleep tonight
I’ll pray anew with all my might
Please take my heart and hold it tight
Don’t turn the shadows into light.

Squeeze tighter with each breath I take
I won’t mind the delay or shake
Yet if you see my eyes awake
Squeezer harder ‘til you feel it break.

Before I fall asleep tonight
I’ll pray again with all my might
My soul to take an endless flight…
When chained to hell, there is no light.

© Copyright 2018 Olivia G. Owens. All rights reserved.

Walking Away

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The day she’ll walk into your life
I’ll feel the striking of the knife;
You will no longer want me here
There’ll be no need for me so near.

The day I’ll see her in your arms
My spirit will not bear harms,
For it will splinter up and break
With every breath that I will take.

The day I’ll walk away from you
A hundred blades will cut me through.
And as I turn then will I pray
For strength to keep looking away.

The day that I will say goodbye
Will be the day my heart will die.
I’ll walk away and won’t return
For you and I, I’ll always mourn.

The silent smile on my face
Will hide the pain I can’t erase,
Pain, agonizing and unbending
Just know that I will be pretending.

© Copyright 2018 Olivia G. Owens. All rights reserved.

Inner Demons

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I’m building walls they have to climb,
Push them away time after time.
They mock and laugh, and then hit back
And easily get back on track.

I’m building walls they have to climb,
Push them away time after time.
They gently brush away my hair
I take a breath but there’s no air.

I’m building walls they have to climb,
Push them away time after time.
I shake them off just for an instant
They grab on tight, they are resistant.

I’m building walls they have to climb,
Push them away time after time.
I choose to face them feeling stronger,
They smile back and hold me longer.

I’m building walls they have to climb,
Push them away time after time.
I’m giving up and slowly fade
Give in, find solace in their shade.

I’m building walls they have to climb,
Push them away time after time.
The demons offer their embrace
I just give in and take my place.

They find me when I’m all alone
And cut me down to the bone.
I’m slowly learning how to die
My silenced eyes no longer cry.

© Copyright 2018 Olivia G. Owens. All rights reserved.

“You Will Become an Army for Your Child”

via The Mighty: https://www.facebook.com/Themightysite/videos/604998539647897/

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The Good Fight – Fighting Against Systematic Bullying

As some of you know, we have been in a legal fight with The Vanguard School in Colorado Springs for a couple of years now. Our 8 year old autistic son was expelled due to his disability. Today we found out that his federal case is a great precedent to parents and other attorneys.

At the COPAA** Conference in Philadelphia this year, attorneys from Maine made a presentation of the 40 most important federal district court decisions in the field in 2015. They listed our son’s case, Smith v. Cheyenne Mountain School District 12, 2015 WL 4979771 (D. Colo. Aug. 20, 2015) as number 22.

Yay! Fighting for your kid and not letting yourself be bullied by a school district DOES make a difference.

We also discovered that Robert’s case was cited by a federal court in San Diego, to overturn an ALJ’s decision that refused to uphold the “stay put” placement of a child in the school set forth in the child’s IEP.

This is a great victory for the parents and the child, not unlike the victory we achieved. Hopefully other school districts throughout the country will get the clue that they cannot continue to violate the stay-put clause.

Don’t be a victim of systematic bullying by school districts.

**The Council of Parent Attorneys and Advocates is a national American advocacy association of parents of children with disabilities, their attorneys, advocates, and others who support the educational and civil rights of children with disabilities.

 

Are You a Synesthete

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Four percent of the population, when seeing number five, also see color red. Or hear a C-sharp when seeing blue. Or even associate orange with Tuesdays. And among artists, the number goes to 20-25 percent! This neurologically-based condition is called synesthesia, in which people involuntarily link one sensory percept to another. The colors, sounds, numbers, etc. differ among people (for example, you might see five in red, while someone else sees it in orange), but the association never varies within a person (that is, if five for you is red, it will always be red). There is a surprising overall agreement among synesthetes, however.

The primary perspective of the cause of synesthesia is a mutation that causes defective pruning between areas of the brain that are ordinarily connected only sparsely. Therefore areas that are disconnected within a human brain retain certain connections in synesthetes, which causes unusual associations. The location of gene expression leads to two different types of synesthetes: If the gene is expressed in the fusiform gyrus, the brain area concerned with perception, a perceptual synesthesia results, in which people will actually perceive, for instance, a number five colored in red. If, however, the gene is expressed in the angular gyrus, the brain area involved in processing concepts, a conceptual synesthesia results, in which people will not physically see the color red when presented with a number five, but will nevertheless experience an association between the two concepts.

I must admit, I am a conceptual synesthete (but only for certain numbers). Two is a nice light cream color; three is bright green; four is beige with a bit of light brown; five is definitely blood red; seven is ice blue. Eight wants to be something, but it’s difficult… Nine is dark, almost black. I don’t physically see colors, but when numbers are colored in something other than my associations, it causes some distress. I also paint and am very sensitive to colors and sounds in general.

I also believe that even though perceptual synesthesia may be relatively rare, it does not mean that a subtler cross-sensory undercurrent is nonexistent. I would not be surprised if many creative individuals were conceptual synesthetes. They may not necessarily physically perceive the connections between the percepts, but nevertheless may exhibit the facility in linking seemingly unrelated realms in order to highlight a hidden deep similarity. For example, in a sample of normal university students, those who had higher scores on the remote associates task (which requires finding a common word that can be combined with each of the three problem words to form a common compound or a phrase: e.g., ‘shine, beam, struck;’ solution — ‘moon’) showed stronger associations between colors and pure tones than people with lower scores on the same test. Similarly, synesthetes outperformed controls on the remote associates test. In addition, examination of poetry of Poe, Swinburne, Shelley, Blake, and Keats revealed that they all employed synesthetic usage in their poetry. These findings indicate that cross-sensory linkages may be associated with creative thinking.

I would be glad to hear from synesthetes, as well as from individuals involved in creative pursuits. What are your experiences? How do you perceive the world? How do your experiences affect your daily life?

by Darya L. Zabelina M. S vis Psychology Today

If Strangers Talked to Everybody like They Talk to Writers

Last week, writer and tweeter extraordinaire Elizabeth McCracken tweeted this:

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There is something unique about the way people talk to writers. Strangers seem very willing to offer career advice — “self-publishing is where the money is!” — literary advice — “People love vampires!” — or to oddly ask you to guess what work they’ve read in their life and if any of yours is among it. It got me thinking about what it would be like it people talked about other professions in this way.

“Ah, a middle school teacher? Have I met any of the students you’ve ever taught?”

“Cool, I always wanted to be a car salesmen. Maybe when I retire I’ll settle down and just work on selling that Buick I’ve had in my head for years.”

“Huh. A chef. Do people still eat food?”

“An accountant? Wow, I haven’t even looked at a number since high school.”

“You own a hardware shop? Nice! Do you sell tools with wood handles? People love wood handles, you should really sell tools with those.”

“So Chet tells me you’re a bartender. Would I have tasted any of the drinks you make?”

“News anchor? Okay here’s a news story I’ve been thinking about for years: the vice president slips into a vat of grape jelly. People would love that story, right? It’s yours! I’ll never have time to get away from work and break the story to a national audience myself.”

“Non-profit grant writer? Hmm. My 7-year-old niece is into non-profits. Do you write grants for any children’s non-profits? Maybe she’s read one of your grants.”

“Software programmer? Like, for actual computers sold in stores or just as a hobby?”

“Gastroenterologist? My aunt tried to be a gastroenterologist. Hard to make a living doing that! Hahaha!”

“Menswear designer for J. Crew? Interesting. Have you tried selling your clothes yourself on Etsy instead? I hear people are making millions self-designing on the internet these days.”

“You said a Wall Street banker? Interesting. Would I know any of the economies you ruined with borderline illegal practices?’

by Lincoln Michel

I Am Not Done

I hope by now you realize that I keep my word.
I do not give up; I will NEVER give up.

Are you tired of me yet?
If your answer is “yes,” my response is “good.”

What is more dangerous than a parent?
One whose child you have threatened.

Reveal my biggest, darkest secrets – scream it from the highest mountain but you will not silence me.

There is a simple, sure way to stop me…

…hire a hitman because I would rather die than give up.

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© Copyright 2016 Olivia Owens. All rights reserved.