Laughing Over Lemons

Posted on by Astrid

Laughing over lemons. That phrase has been on my mind for a few days. It’s a twist on the phrase “When life hands you lemons, make lemonade.” I think sometimes it’s best to laugh at our worst days.

Like, when I had only been in the psychiatric hospital for a day back in 2007, I was telling psych ward jokes. You know, what’s the difference between the patients and the staff on psychiatric units? First, the patients get better and leave. Second, the staff have the keys. And there was another one. Something about not all patients believing they’re God. I think those last two apply to institutions for people with developmental disabilities too. I mean, particularly at the intensive support home (ie. the home for those with severe challenging behavior), my spouse said the only noticeable difference between the residents and staff was the staff carrying a pager to beep for assistance when a resident becomes violent. Other than that, both staff and residents were usually staring blankly at the TV.

We, the residents, were often blamed. Or at least, the other residents (other than me, that is) were. They have no motivation for life and they are too old to teach. Besides, no-one can force them away from the TV because that would be involuntary care. That’s what I was told. Never mind that I’ve witnessed on many occasions staff telling residents that they had gotten enough “attention” for the day because staff had been sitting with them for fifteen minutes with a cup of coffee.

I am often quite cynical in my humor. If only my cynical jokes weren’t actually 99% truthful. And now all I can hope for is that my joke about everything being okay in 2034 (because the world is going to be blasst to hell) isn’t going to turn out 99% truthful too.

I am linking this post up with Friday Writings. It isn’t necessarily a hopeful or positive post. However, I do feel that laughing over the many lemons life hands me and many other people in this world and age, can certainly be helpful.

Moon Phases and Seasons

Posted on by Astrid

I, being blind, haven’t been able to see the moon in at least a quarter of a century and for most of this time, I didn’t pay much attention to its existence. I didn’t have a clue which phase the moon was in until a year or two ago, when Apple introduced moon phases as part of its weather app. Even then, I saw the moon phase as just some random factoid I liked.

That is until a few months ago, my staff told me about a fellow client who is usually very cognitively impaired and withdrawn but lights up significantly during the time around the full moon. I haven’t yet figured out whether moon phases impact me too, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they did. I’m just not as aware of the moon because I can’t see it.

Which brings me to the topic of seasons. Fall here has been incredibly warm and I’m struggling to conceptualize the fact that it’s late October. I can still see whether it’s light or dark outside when I’m actually outside, but I am starting to struggle more with the concept of seasons. I do still know that it’s late October, but I don’t “feel” it, if this makes sense. I don’t know how much of this is my blindness and how much, if anything, is cognitive decline.

I’m sharing this post with Friday Writings, for which the optional prompt is the moon. Yeah, I know it’s Sunday, but who cares?

September Dreams and Memories

Posted on by Astrid

Last night I dreamt of being admitted to the psych hospital. It’s no wonder, since the anniversary of my actual admission isn’t very far away, on November 3. September 23 is my anniversary of going into long-term care and last Wednesday, I celebrated one year in my current care home.

I was reminded yesterday that September is a bittersweet month. That is, I was reminded of the sweet aspect, ie. it being me and my spouse’s wedding aniversary yesterday. The bitter aspect has overshadowed my days with flashbacks and my nights with dreams more than I’d like. I am, thankfully, still coping.

I am hoping that, as I acquire more pleasant memories here at this home, the flashbacks and nightmares will lessen. I know I was saying something similar when reclaiming November in 2021. I hope this time around I will choose following my dreams and aspirations over re-enacting the past.

Sharing this post with Friday Writings #145, for which the optional theme is dreams and memories. This was more of a freewrite than anything else, but oh well.

I Fear…

Posted on by Astrid

I fear not. Not really. Snakes nor spiders, heights nor depths. I fear not. Not exactly. Darkness nor monsters, flying nor driving. I fear… oh, what do I fear? Aloneness and uncertainty, pain and discomfort. And yet, I know, these are inevitable.

This post was written for Friday Writings #120, for which the prompt is to write either a prose poem, tankaprose or haibun. I chose the prose poem. I am also sharing this post with Friday Faithfuls, for which the prompt this week is “fear”.

Poem: Home Is…

Posted on by Astrid

Home was
At my parents’
Who were there and yet weren’t there for me
Hurting me in ways I feel I can’t express
It wasn’t safe
Or maybe that’s just me

Home was
On my own
Barely holding on by a thread
Surviving but that was about as far as it went
It wasn’t doable
Or maybe that’s just me

Home was
In the mental hospital
Where I stayed for nearly a decade
Only to be kicked out again
That wasn’t forever
And that wasn’t me

Home was
With my spouse
Again, barely holding on by a thread
Managing life by sleeping and panicking
It didn’t work out
But maybe that was me again

Home then was
In the care facility in Raalte
About as unsuitable as they come in theory
But it was near-perfect in reality
And yet, I left
And that was me (sort of)

Home then became
My current care home
With harsh staff, chaotic clients and poor quality of care
I wasn’t abused (not really), but that’s about as far as it goes
It doesn’t feel safe
But then I wonder, isn’t that just me?

Maybe soon home will be
The future care home
The big unknown
Will I feel sort of happy there?
No-one can tell
But it’s up to me

To make myself feel at home

This poem may sound a bit self-loathing. It isn’t intended this way, but I couldn’t express as concisely how I feel about my various “homes” and particularly the way people have told me I approach them (ie. the idea that I’m never satisfied anyway because I’m looking for perfection) without sounding this way. This is definitely not my best poem, but oh well, it shows my conflicting feelings about the fact that I’ve never felt “at home” anywhere.

I’m joining dVerse’s OLN. I’m also joining Friday Writings. The optional prompt is “muscle memory”. I guess repeating that I don’t feel at home anywhere counts.

Creating Glimmers

Posted on by Astrid

Today’s prompt for Friday Writings is “Glimmers”. A glimmer is the exact opposite of a trigger, something that brings you a sense of safety or joy.

Let me say that I often struggle with the fear of experiencing positive emotions, so even glimmers could be triggers in a way. I have yet to figure out why this is and what to do about it.

That is, one thing I do about it is to create positive experiences for my inner child parts that aren’t connected to the past. An example of this would be reading stories about unicorns. I don’t think my mother ever read me stories about unicorns as a young child, so unicorns bring out the playful inner child in me without the memories of my childhood attached. I can probably safely say that unicorns are a glimmer for me.

Another glimmer are my stuffed animals, but I honestly think the same applies that is the reason I love unicorns: they can’t be connected to my childhood. I currently have five stuffed animals on my bed, but the oldest one I’ve had for about four years.

I wonder why this is, honestly, given that my childhood, though not stellar, wasn’t horrifying either. Ah, who cares as long as I have my unicorn stories, unicorn polymer clay cutters, stuffed anymals, including several unicorns, etc.? Let me just live love laugh in unicorn land. If only it were this easy…

Between War and Peace

Posted on by Astrid

The stories we hear
Of war and peace
May cause us concern
Or relief
And yet
Reality
Is most often
Something inbetween

When orienting at the prospective new care home last Wednesday, a resident started talking unquietly about the war in Ukraine. She was quickly calmed by a staff, in as simple words as possible, suited to her intellectual capabilities.

That night, I heard an airplane or a helicopter fly by very low over my current home. I thought, perhaps influenced by the woman in the other home, that it was a jet fighter. “Are we going to war now?”, I asked the night staff when she responded to my call button. She put my mind at peace, saying someone had probably booked a night-time helicopter flight over Raalte. I took her story at face value and went to sleep.

The next morning, I found out that both of our stories are probably equally unlikely and reality was something inbetween: the helicopter had been called in a medical emergency to resuscitate a baby. Thankfully, the baby survived.

This post was written for Friday Writings, for which the optional theme this week is war and peace.

Poem: What Color Is the Sun?

Posted on by Astrid

I wonder
What color is the sun?

Is it red like fire,
Shooting flames across the sky?

Is it orange like the fruit,
Splashing its rays all around?

Is it yellow like a sunflower,
Fully blooming in midsummer?

Then again, how do I know
What these colors even mean?
Fire isn’t red or so I’ve heard
A sunflower’s heart and seeds are brown

As I look up to the sunset
My eyes wide open
I see nothing
Light nor darkness

And I wonder
What color is the sun?

This poem was written for this week’s Friday Writings, for which the optional prompt is “sunset”. I’m also joining dVerse’s OLN.

Poem: Take Shelter

Posted on by Astrid

It’s safe here,
guarded.
You can cuddle up.

It’s cozy here,
comfortable.
You can be secure.

Nightie-night.
Close your eyes.
You can rest now.

I hope you sleep well,
taking shelter
in the abyss.

This poem was inspired by one of the prompts in Reena’s Xploration Challenge #226. This week, Reena gives us a series of book title suggestions as inspirations for our post. I decided to use the first one as inspiration for this poem. I am also joining dVerse’s OLN, as well as Friday Writings #22. I didn’t quite understand the optional prompt for this week and the part about reusing words to craft a piece that’s of higher quality than the original, feels a bit, well, paradoxical to me. After all, I’m pretty sure I screwed up the original intent of that book title generator quite badly with this poem, but oh well.

Poem: The Monster

Posted on by Astrid

Sometimes
It screams
Loudly
Telling me
To give up once and for all

Other times
It whispers
Softly
Luring me
To take that final step

Sometimes
It seems silent
Just for a little while
But it always returns
The monster
Wanting me to die

This poem was written for Friday Writings #14, for which the optional prompt this week is to write about monsters. I am also joining dVerse’s Open Link. I’ve shared poetry about my depression and recurring suicidal ideation in both linkies before. I often refer to this state as “the monster”, so this theme came to mind when I read the Friday Writings prompt.