Murderous?

Why step on the bug,
Out here on the sidewalk paved
With the intention
Of leading us place to place –
No obstacles in our way?

The bug is minute,
It barely forces a step
Aside the margin
Leaving the path to follow –
If we are daring enough.

Why is the bug here?
Is the memory hidden,
Of the fear once known,
When the world was wilderness –
With doubt explored, overcome?

How are we now grown,
That the innocent insect
Raises our instinct
To kill, destroy, and conquer –
When victorious – we are?

Found superior,
How are we very challenged
By creatures beyond
Our overwhelming control –
Are we from nature estranged?

The bug is wonder –
For it continues, exists,
Outside reckoning
To eliminate its life –
Clinging loosely, it persists.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Prompt: Reach for a subject that touches you differently.

Perpetual Conflux

Lightning sweeps across
The palette of storm clouded
Sky, blindingly bright,
Picking a tree on which to
Dividing destructive strike.
At the bottom, torn
From the rich life-giving loam
An olive hued
Shoot arises to climb ably
So lavender blooms lively
In winding waves set
Beauty where death might have been
A stalwart final
Force, but it could not so cleave
Nature from its directive
Nor the love of life
From a continuance which
Inaugurated
In the depths of time, never
Leaves barren what begins primed.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

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Redefine

Why must there be hate?
Why must the lovely be killed?
What possesses those
Who cause inestimable
Harm to individuals?

Somehow combat must
Ensue within hearts, homes, schools,
To irradicate
That nurturing such malice;
LOVE must permeate, prevail.

Exemplifying
Kindness, LOVE, bringing wisdom,
Generosity,
To the commonest of days;
Change may begin, take hold, win.

It can happen now
If our hearts – love and care, embrace
For the human race,
Treasuring each thing shared here,
LOVE leaves nothing still undone.

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When I read of people meeting a violent end, it cuts into my heart and makes me feel that there should be better ways to handle life. All the stories ended, when a person dies are such a horrible tragedy to me.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Mad Advocacy

It is bad enough the subject is still taboo in our day. It is bad enough, so many people suffer in fear, afraid to be real. It is bad enough there are millions. It is so horrible people are dying.

If it were cancer, if it were cardiac, if it were anything physical, there would be a focus, discussion, compassion, a willingness to try to find better treatments, a cure.

My cousin asked a general question on Facebook, “Can a person with schizophrenia be called an individual?” Family, my own family. He knows me. I have corresponded with him. He has read my work and me, his. He came here and spent time with me in person the day of Mom’s memorial service.

Read that again, “Can a person with schizophrenia be called an individual?”

This was my reply: “Yes. Schizophrenia and Multiple Personality Disorder are different things. Do you consider me an individual? I have Schizoaffective Disorder, Schizophrenia, and the mood disorder, Bipolar combined.

Even MPD, the person, is an individual. Our illnesses do not make us any less worthy of respect and love as individuals.

I wonder where this post came from.”

Punch me in the face and lay me out cold. I could not believe I was reading this.

I should not be surprised. Society wishes to sweep us out with the nasty garbage. Do you know how long it takes to get funding to find those of us suffering new treatments? Do you realize how many people think we are all acting? Do you know how few live to age 56 because they commit suicide?

Sorry, I am angry. It is not so much about me. I know people who could function with meds. I know women who are so down on themselves, their husbands can put fists to skin. I have spoken to a father whose son and his wife were both mentally ill, and that man was in the process of adopting their little girl because neither of them could adequately care for her. He was almost 70.

I am lucky, I get my meds, and though I am sometimes suicidal, I know how to defuse myself with my creativity. Not to say, I have not come very close to success but been saved. My disease is the worst, and I am high functioning. I have an incredible doctor, I was able to get disability, Medicare, and Medicaid by 1997, but I had been living a nightmare since 1981. What I get does not pay all the bills, but I am afraid to lose the insurance by going to work, and I do not do well in public for extended periods. My home is a disaster area. Alex cleared out my Mom’s room. We took three loads in large trucks of clothes to Good Will. I could not do it. I cannot hardly manage any of the house. I have to keep my mind busy, or I destruct. I have to read, write, create, stay mentally engaged, or go to pieces.

Do you realize why so many are in a sorry state? They cannot afford a doctor, and if they could, they could not afford meds. Go price anti-psychotics, anti-depressants, mood stabilizers, go ahead. I will wait.

This is a crisis, and every day it gets worse. That is not an exaggeration. More and more people are committing suicide.

I am sorry, I try to leave this out of the conversation. I know most do not wish to hear about it. Many think we just lack will power and can pull ourselves up by the bootstraps. My older brother was like that, he looked down on me most of my life. We loved each other, but I failed to meet his expectations. My Mom talked to everybody who knew me trying to find ways to relate to me.

No one knows what having voices that you know are unreal, but you cannot dispel, that tell you that you are damned, stupid, ugly, unwanted, unloved, is like without experiencing it. Also, delusions that make it so you cannot trust anyone and always make you feel inferior, make you wish you were never born or could die right quick. It is so hard to understand, and no one should have to, we should put an end to it with committed research.

People like so many of our stars and veterans who commit suicide because of depression. Most of the people suffering are bright and had potential until the diseases took over their lives.

Maybe you know someone who struggles, perhaps you could give them a hug, tell them how much they mean to you. Offer to visit. Just treat them like they are an individual. Love them even if they are sometimes or often unlovable. If you know someone who needs treatment, maybe you could help them with the process. It is damned hard, and many require advocates.

If this offends you, I am sorry. If you think less of me, I get it. Something needs to be done to wake this country up to this crisis. People are dying, and their blood is on our hands if we do nothing, say nothing, we do not initiate change.

“Can a person with schizophrenia be called an individual?” If we dehumanize those with mental issues, are we not falling back into worst tyrannies than our nation’s and world’s past.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

I usually give you pretty pictures, but I think the stark text will do this time.

 

What Reading Held Out

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I guess God has been trying to show me something for a bit. I read a lot, and almost all the books lately have sent the same message. Let me give you a list:

The World That We Knew by Alice Hoffman
Wanderers by Chuck Wendig
A Column of Fire by Ken Follet
The Cave and The Light by Arthur Herman
A Fair Maiden by Joyce Carol Oates
The Sisters of the Winter Wood by Rena Rossner
The Templars by Dan Jones (my current read)

The message is we human beings do a lot of damage to one another in our disrespect for the freedom to have our own opinions, beliefs, and bodies. I do not go looking for messages when I pick reads. I read for enjoyment and to learn.

Some of the things these books have shown me, I did not realize. If you want to delve into it, grab any one of them. All are excellent.

We have been systemically eliminating people and demeaning them for the longest time. Maybe not you and I, but the race of human beings. I feel each one of us should make an effort to lift others up and ennoble them at every opportunity. The world is hard, and it tears at us. Even when we are not subjected to persecution or denigration, our selves can turn against us and bring pain.

Sometimes I feel I should not write or that I write poorly, but I love people, and I needed to say something. Differences make us gloriously unique and beautiful, it would be so wonderful if all of us began to celebrate the varieties of people we are. When we hurt someone else, we hurt ourselves, that should stop. Kindness, it brings smiles, and we are so precious, sharing smiles will increase our happiness quotient.

 

I am only me
You are steadfastly you, too,
But what together
We may become, can changing
History be much greater
Than we individuals
Can in imagination
See, for creativity
Prospers in community,
Love then guides humanity.

 

We are, this present,
Past hopes, prayer, bright future dreams,
The promise love brings.

 

This day like others
I have loved, slips smooth away
Like water over
Rocks which cannot capture it
Even for a brief moment.

 

As a prompt, create something, in whatever form that helps your awareness of how you can befriend and uplift someone else.

Three things for which I am thankful today: Food that nourishes me, Family and Friends who love me, and All the beautiful things with which I have been blessed.

I thank you for your visit, you may follow Haphazard Creative should you wish, or I hope you will return.

May love and smiles soften your journey,
Jo Ann

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan