To Nafiza

One night, as my daughter slept and one of my favorite shows that isn't Greys Anatomy
was being ignored...Law and Order SVU. I was on my laptop google-ing "Bipolar" because I'm always interested in what is going on..new medications, news stories, ect. and I came upon your video. I watched it, and I choked. It was later confirmed by the Ryan Cameron interview with your boyfriend and sister that you have bipolar, and that you weren't on your medication. I knew it once the video was over. It hurt my feelings that no one helped you.*But you and I both know, that sometimes in those states it is hard to be helped, because "you" don't see anything wrong. I am from the ATL also, and just to let you know..you aren't the only one who "suffers" with this disease.

I say "suffer" because you don't have to "suffer" with bipolar. Unlike cancer, there is somewhat of a cure. Shawty, I know it is hard..but right now you have to open up, and swallow that shit. Opening up meaning: Searching deep with in to find out what makes you have mood swings. Searching deep and finding out what went wrong in your life, and how you can move past it.Finding the right therapist..I know it's expensive, but I know one of my professors who will do it for free.* He is a therapist/professor man* Finding people who understand..Maybe a support group. Psycho education *I hate that it's called psycho-ed* but it's nothing more than researching your "illness". It's going to be hard probably to find your "friends"..or who you think are your "friends"..around. Unless they truly care, they will vanish. *I have a few great friends* I love them. I am offering to be your friend, and help you through this.

Speaking of love, it is hard to find it in this world. It is often destroyed by words and actions that can never be forgiven or forgotten. It may be true that people will never forget you. But you have the final say in how they remember you. If I were you..I would come out with some type of statement..when you're ready whether it be youtube, or through a blog, news ect. I don't even know you my sistah, but I got mad love for you. I wish I could do math, because I would be a therapist..But since I'm not I'm willing to offer my support..and it's close..

Then you have to swallow your pills. If I never meet you, maybe some way you will read this letter, ask them to prescribe you Lamictal *seizure medicine/mood stabilizer* and Prozac/ or effexor. You need a mood stabilizer and depression meds to balance it out.They are the best, no real extreme side effects. And I know for a fact if the psychiatrist doesn't give a damn about you, they will give you the worst medication... Lithium, Risperdol,Depakote, Seroquel ect. So you have to find the right psychiatrist, and swallow the meds they prescribe. Til' this day I still don't want to believe that I have to take pills for the rest of my life, just to be normal,so I take it one day at a time. Enjoying the stability of my life when I take what's prescribed.

It's going to be okay. You will work through this..I've been video taped by someone who claimed they love me, and I broke their phone. Being taunted when you have to live with an illness that isn't shown any sympathy is hard to handle. People look at "us" like it's our faults. When in all actuality it's a combination of nature vs nuture. How the hell we grew up, and the genes we were given. Know that it's not your fault.I've had to learn not to let things get to me, to the point where I could be hospitilized/or in jail. You've probably done both recently, but you can bouce back. Know that. I know you're mad as hell. Probably at yourself, and probably at the world. There are people who support you...not only me.

I hope you take the chance to stand up and fight for "us". Don't let them think that's what we are all about. You are the poster child now for Bipolar. So if you want to, we should join up like super heroes and destroy the stigma.


I am here if you need me...

F G

badyellow@hotmail.com

Would leave my number but I'm afraid.

Reaching out to her

It is going to take a lot of work to help make the stigma of the mentally ill get better. I mean we are looked at as loose cannons waiting to explode. And sometimes our own family has intentions maybe of supporting us, but turn around and treat us the same way society does. If you saw me out on the street, you would have no idea that I have bipolar. Like I’ve said before, I don’t experience psychosis. Mainly just episodes that go from depression/ to mania where I may sleep too much, or not at all, and I also get really hyper. The only thing about that is that most of my cycles are rapid. Where one minute I’m happy, and the next I’m sad. But like I said if I didn’t tell you..you wouldn’t know. Because I keep everything inside.
I was just tipped off by some anonymous person that said they may know where to find Nafiza *the girl in the video*. I hope that they can help me so I can at least talk to her. I am going to take your advice Don and write her a letter, but I really want to meet with her in person. When my creator puts something on my heart, I can’t rest until I act on it.
I know Nafiza probably think the world hates her. She is a celebrity in her own rite now. Everyone knows about her, and most laugh at her story. I don’t see shyt funny because that could have been me. I know I hate taking my meds. I have to suck it up everyday and just swallow them. I think I’ve started and stopped my meds more than 10 times. Finally, I’ve been on them for a while, and boy do I feel much better. I’m off of the emotional rollercoaster, and I would love to help Nafiza get off of hers. Time is relevant, either it will happen or it won’t. But I hope it does..sooner than later.

Google sucks

I am a very caring and loving person. If it is in my power to help someone I do it. I am totally hurt behind this whole girl on the marta train thing. That episode has shaped everyone who saw the video opinion of people with mental illness. I want to reach out to her. After all she is from GA. Right here in Decatur where I work. With a little investigating I found out her name, and her moms name. *Got it from a news site in ATL*. So I tried to google her mother, to see if I could get a phone number..But nothing. I really want to try to reach this girl. I want to tell her that everything can be okay. I know the world has basically turned on her, and I’m sure she feels like she has no way out. I don’t know why but my creator is tugging heavy on my heart to try and reach out to her. I don’t know how to go about it though…But I hope that I do..Any suggestions?

Coming...

*****I know that I write more than probably anybody that I've seen on blogger.com. But I'm treating this as my notebook..and I would write like this..if it were it..




here I come again
gushy schmaltzy
all over my page
an explosion
a discharge of stress
I come over
and over again
leaving a stain
that is nothing but
a nut…
in text
saying what she’s got to say
I have no timing
sometimes I come fast
sometimes I come slow
but the only thing that matters
is that I must finish first
first before I forget
the most important
part of me
….my words

I speak them out loud
when I fuck..
my keyboard
or notebook..
My words reach
out and touch
my most sensitive parts
the deepest depth I can go
Inside….
my words make me shiver
my words get me high
then when it’s over
I want to roll over
and sleep
because writing is a release

All up in my Shyt!

People, People, People
Have stopped amazing me
People never learned to
Actually drive throughout life
They just hop behind the wheel
Without even acquiring
A learner’s permit
And start driving
Like they are drunk
Bobbing and weaving
Hoping to bump into
My vehicle
Pretending they don’t see me
But they do
I am in front of them
But they imagine me
In their rear view
So they speed ahead
And jump in my lane
And then I get pissed
Then I have something to say

I don’t dip
In other peoples business
Unless I’m welcome
Unless I was invited
But people these days
All up in other peoples
Kool-Aid
Without realizing
That it is bitter
Without realizing
There is no sugar
There is no additive
That people can give
When they are
Not welcome
Into other peoples
Business

Be patient baby

So I can’t force it. My “rhythm reflection” writing aka poetry. I don’t like it when this happens. In the past when it has, I go dormant for a long period of time. I am content. I have to be to be out in this world that doesn’t mean anyone any good. I am content knowing that one day I will be where I want to be. I will be where I am supposed to be. My grandma got married and pregnant @ 16. She didn’t graduate high school until she was in her 20’s. She had nothing growing up, and she made sure that I understood that patients is a virtue. She went to college and graduated I would say in her 30’s. My grandfather raised my mother in the beggining of her life, because she was working and living out of town to go to school. She was a social worker, and she was good at it.
I remember when I would be with her at her house, mainly at her kitchen table. *She would sit there and read*. That’s all she did was read. That’s where I get it from I assume. Anyway, she would tell me stories about how when she was little *she had numerous brothers and sisters* my great grandparents had nothing. It hurt her pride that when she had to go to school that she had to borrow crayons from other kids. You know that knot that you get in your throat when you hear something you don’t want to hear? Well her stories made me choke. Her antidotes always brought tears to my eyes. Her life wasn’t easy in the beginning. She had to struggle. She walked..and she walked everywhere she had to go, until her steps lead her to where she stood..until she died.
She made sure we had everything. She is the reason people call me spoiled. She is the reason I don’t believe in the word “no”. My grandfather died 4 yrs before I was born, so basically she held it down by herself. She was beautiful. Not just on the outside *because she was gorgeous and flyy. She could dress her behind off* I know I get that from her. She had a wonderful spirit. People gravitated to her. I see a lot of myself in what she was. She didn’t put up with nonsense. She was very intelligent, and made sure you knew it. She went to every continent except Antarctica and Asia. A well seasoned woman, and even though I haven’t traveled the world yet. I have the interest to because I want to walk in some of the places she did. She really didn’t have any female friends. When we went on our vacations she always had her male friends show us around. She warned me somewhat of the evilness that lies with in ourselves. *women* How jealousy and envy can ruin love, no matter how you cut it. She taught me not to trust too many people..even though I don’t think I really got that lesson until now.
I was just thinking of her a lot today because it seems like I won’t be graduating until I don’t know when. My tuition is due tomorrow, and I ain’t got it. I know it took her what seems like eternity to get to where she dreamed to be. But the point is..she got there. She was a real McCoy *you know the one’s from Tennessee*..and I have their blood..and they were no joke. So I will make it, no matter how long it takes. I am just going to enjoy the ride..praying not to get nauseous.

Yeah I got this one out in the end..

You held me first
You told me
I felt like warm clay
You washed my
Jet black hair
August 8th
12:00 pm..something
The day I was born

She didn’t touch me
Until after you did
Even though I hatched
From her egg
You were the first
To feel me breathe
And to hold my hand

As I grew older
I looked up to you
Understood the struggle
Didn’t understand how
You made it through
All of the pain
That life ached you with
Without popping pills
Because of being deemed insane
Without doing drugs
Without drinking a thing

Such a strong woman
I’m proud to have your genes
I wish you could be here
To see my baby
And not be buried
With her ultra sound pic
But she looks like you
Especially her hair
Straight like yours
And curly at the ends
But I know you are looking
Down on us
You were an angel on earth
But now you’ve got your wings
Willie Lee
Such a strong name
You were such a lady
Thanks for helping
To shape and mold me
Into the woman I am today
And for showing me………
That you really never
Stop growing
and for telling me
"Be patient baby"

Sleeppyyyyy..

So I’m trying to write myself to sleep
flood my blog
with all the words
I water it with
hoping it grows
before I decide to cut it down
recycling it back
and let someone else
claim poetry noir
on blogger.com

I wish I could rid myself
of all of the negativity
surrounding me
if it isn’t evil women
who deserve to be called bitches..
and they are not down one’s either
The bitches with the gene
it remains to be the same
that a man if he ever get’s in your pants
is no longer cool
if his hands aren’t allowed to explore
the privacy he thought he ruled

but when the rules to her house
have been disrespected
it is hard for her to open up
and let him in
once the doors have been closed
to him..
once he’s been banned from home
that’s it

he flips
he loses his mind
thinking possibly
that another man
will one day
explore her body
with his finger tips
and enter her
charted city
darting it w/ his graffiti
covering up what
art he left
scribbled upon her walls
failing to realize
she doesn’t want to see
him spraying new walls
but sometimes it is best
to change colors
to paint a prettier picture
but she won’t lose it
until she finds another painter
she has her 10 fingers..

A big ass pill to swallow

I hate swallowing pills. So yeah I’m up feeling terrible, and I’m done swallowing pills for the day. So that means I won’t be taking any cold medicine...my daughter is at a slumber party..and I’m home alone feeling anxious. I’m not used to sitting still that’s what it is. Especially at this time of night, on the weekends of course, so all I can do is write. I used to be addicted to my notebooks. But I really like to type everything now, because it’s faster and a whole lot neater. Plus I don’t have to hide them from unwanted viewers. People pick up my ish and then get mad when they don’t like what they see. I tell it how it is…even if I’m in the wrong..which leads me to something I’ve done wrong..a big pill I had to swallow..

My grandma’s only son, my uncle married my aunt. My aunt couldn’t have babies, or my uncle couldn’t, one of the two. So they decided to adopt a baby. I met her when I was probably 3. I held her..I actually remember the day I met her. I held her with a pillow behind my arm. I don’t forget much..Anyway, as I got older..*Not much older ppl* maybe 6 I found out she was adopted. And get this, she didn’t know that she was adopted. I was thinking at that age..okay why tell me this..Such an enormous secret for a child to keep to herself..and away from her cousin..

How it came out wasn’t in the best of circumstances. I remember being 12..and she was 9 and my uncle her daddy was dying of cancer. We were playing outside @ my house. Her parents, my mom and our grandma were there...and I don’t know how it came up..but I just blurted it out… “ You are adopted”….then of course me being a kid I tried to take it back with saying “I’m just playing”. I don’t remember if she ran in and told on me or what, but I know my mom said had to face my dying uncle in the face and tell him that I was sorry. Sorry for spilling a secret that I had no business in the first place knowing. Then I got my ass beat..all over that backyard on Columbus St. Wow….

Now as an adult I can’t imagine adopting a kid, and not telling it where it came from. And I couldn’t fathom telling some kid daughter, cousin, niece, or whatever that one of our family members is adopted..but shhh don’t tell them because they don’t know. That was a hard pill for me to swallow as a child..and I learned then that harboring secrets will kill you. I remember being around her for years..knowing something about herself that she had no idea. And back then I had no idea that she would ever know. At 12, I knew I did something very wrong, but in the same breath at least my uncle died knowing that he didn’t die lying to his daughter. He died knowing that she knew where she came from. I hate that I had to be the messenger, but they say everything happens for a reason.
When I saw her last she was in contact with her birth mother. She has a daughter now herself, so I know her mother’s are enjoying that baby in their lives.
I feel uncomfortable around my cousin now though. Mainly because we haven’t talked about how she felt about me breaking the news. I’m sure this conversation if it happens at all.. We will probably be in our 50’s or 60’s or something. But I hope we do have it. I know I hurt her, but I would love to tell her that I didn’t do it to be mean or spiteful, but because I felt she needed to be given a piece that was missing from herself. ****I want to send this to her..what do you think?*****