Today's adventures brought us to the abandoned house on the corner.  Not a far journey from my apartment on the other corner. 
I set the alarm last night to get up at sunrise, to shoot the house in amazing light.  Get some great shots to usher in a new photo album on facebook.   The story of Agnes & Elliot.
It took me a trip to the store that sells happiness in a cup, to pump myself up...  I am always aware of the risks and consequences involved.  I choose to challenge.  But wisely.  I parked my car and sat for a few minutes, occasionally looking over toward the house.  There was a quick moment of thought if I should go wake up the Sab, to join in the adventure...and safety.  You can't be an urban explorer if you're an idiot.  If I can get in, so can anyone else.

With all that said, I chose not to wake the boy.

 "If I don't go now, and alone... then when?  Will not having someone there actually stop me?!  Will the nerve ever be lost to the shadows of time?   Never.. grab your running shoes from the trunk.  You pack them exactly for this purpose.  Get them and go.  Now!" 

Leaving my outdoor flip flops in the Autobot Kia (aka from hell).. I gripped my Nikon baby tight.  The rush began... a whirlwind of everything.  Police, crackheads, alarms, serious dangers..all of it fades once I saw my first web of broken glass.  It becomes a desire... the most masculine emotion/thought I have.. "I will get inside her.  A notch on a bedpost".  But upon leaving the adventure of that day, you remark that forever she will be yours in some way.  Mine?

The front glass door to the mud room squeaked louder than any sound I could remember at that moment.  It smelled like piss and tobacco.  Cigarettes butts littering the piles of unopened mail and local newspapers. 


The main door had a frame of glass missing, so I reached in and unlocked the door...

and quickly vanished inside...

 

"He's gone back to his life.  

It's all talk, moving is talk.  

Security is threatened, 

you need something to change that, he can't.  

Carefree Hippie Maybe?  

Are your expectations the same as his?  

-the Wife

Surrounded by support, 

but wondering if the Poet will step up 

after all is said and done.  

Perhaps the future will tell, 

but right now there is only today.

She made me believe I need to really stop and think. 
How am I coming off here?  How do I feel? 

 I'm scared.  I have to live my life like no one is around.  It's been a few years.  The Poet offered security at one point, I scoffed.
I would take him with just the clothes on his back...time served. 
Yet security causes a panic..
He sought me out, always... even in June I was shocked by some of his comments regarding the future.  I wasn't pulled or pushed,
I walked freely.  Everything he claims, be it with charm or without, feels balanced & natural, surprising with a touch of peace. 

 Sometimes you wish you could blame thoughts 

on feeling like 2 different people.........

I am always me, its the world that changes.

 I am overwhelmed with thoughts...  dizzy, fast..constant.  Something has to give. 
The world seems shadowed..always dusk with a heavy burden. 
All created by...me?  No. 
He knows more than he claims to.  And the longer I know him the more I'm sure he knows damn well what he is doing 70% of the time. 
He could say anything to me, and it would calm me. 
He worries about the black & white of the intensity of spending time together and not together.. tries to greyscale it a bit.  For my sake??  I work best under pressure.  I would rather indulge and experience all around me for the time we have. 

Always worth the consequences.  According to a Kate. 

I fell for his spirit and soul.  
His world is what he knows, did he need a break from his dream? 
I was once his everything.  (this seems a trick of a fool, keep steady)
He can sit in the dark, but even when in the light,
I am a far memory. 

The darkened angel.  I am lying low.  I don't think I"m needed at this part.  My balance has a slight shift.  And I'm feeling it!  I remember his shuffle across the parking lot of the school, bag crossed over the chest, hoodie hanging off left shoulder, here comes the man I'm falling for.  He could spend 2 days drawing the rabbit hole. 

He danced and took me along, when I was choosing to walk.  

Faith with eyes open.  A trick of time. 

Overindulgence for life please. 

I will always surprise you Poet, that I swear. 

(Everyday I walk the street with a secret of being truly loved.  You can't help but smile.)

 Never be bullied into silence. 

Never allow yourself to be made a victim. 

Accept no one's definition of your life; define yourself.

  What do I want this blog to be about?  

A true self indulgent ramble or a vent of the severest degree? 

Life doesn't take a static stand. 

How can a person respect another, if they believe the other lives in a la la land?  Is there no "screw you" button here?  There is a reason to write.

 A soul search began in Edmonton and I've been carrying it like a badge.  "No matter what happens, you found that person that makes your life better."   I've been taught to grasp those feelings and defend against the dark.  It takes every part of you to not completely let go, a feeling that I"m sure can be related to, quite intensely.  I believe I haven't done enough.. 100% of this time.  When I opened the heart I misplaced some of the filters.  Yet part of the therapy is to not ignore circumstance or situation.  Normalize the emotion & equalize the intensity.  That's it!  This is the end goal for all mood disorders.

Fact: If I let it all go, I will die.  A fact that has to be realized, not wished upon.. fear can be strong.  Its a battle of sorts, you keep yourself safe.  Toss excess medications, talk to the pro's, let that guilt of health win and admit your thoughts.  All things I strongly live by.  What do the pro's do?  Listen.  Is stern when there is self indulgence of the negative.  The most obvious tools are drilled and repeated.  But the rest is up to you.  Meds or not, this is the important shit.  There is no other choice.  So it would be against my entire being to indulge in the passion of suicide.  To use it as a threatening tool or to create loving moments. Just sayin'

Not calling it out, I use it as knowledge.  Its deadly if you have none.

What I didn't expect was that everything had to become still, it threw me for a loop.  I suspected but it wasn't till this evening that it became clear.  One moment fate is the fool's lover then "reality" is the harsh mistress.  Problem is that ALL of this is reality. 

 Extremes.. you are everything or your nothing, this I learned tonight.  There is more.. there is a grey you can visit from time to time.  I was told to not run, well dido.  Situation is the lowest of the low... but keep your wits.  Deception doesn't become you.  Get used to questions, if you tell a million stories...  curious and curiouser.  

 Strength is what builds him..I have all the faith in him, otherwise he wouldn't have been welcomed here.  Damn it..

The best way to support is to jump back into the flow of fate.  

A most wonderful woman who worked with me for 3 1/2 years once asked me to read my old journal and see how far I've come with my health.  I've avoided it.  What if it's the same questions posed?  Or suck it up and create a quick "what I've learned" list.

Never did mend fences with the soul mate.  Any attempt would be self-serving, "look how much you were wrong!".  I know there is a part of that moment of anger and disgust that will never leave.  More time needed perhaps?  Then a strength to recognize it and change the circumstances and behaviour.  Who the soul mate was, and the things she inspired will always be cherished.  But I have no need to know her now.  I can never be OK with the words that clouded the mind these last 3 years.  Attention whore, my attempt to end my life wasn't real, and to a point neither was the illness.  I hit back hard, tearing and screaming, hatred flooding MSN.  We both lost our minds.  She played her part and touched a soul, let her rest.  What a wonderful memory time will make her.

• I still have a lot of frustrated questions, some the same from 2008.

• I am not a bad person yet have done bad things.

• This therapy shit works.  DBT will you marry me?  No thanks to Fight Club, I've had a strong prejudice towards all things Dr. Phil related. 

 Medication can alter thoughts + behaviour.  A realization that still creates a panic.  Faith baby...and always knowledge.  I'm med sensitive..not over reacting...ECT being a last resort at one point.  Always listen to your body & surround yourself with those you trust.

NEVER take Lithium or Seroquel.  The first combo in this maze. 

(Fantastic editing job here..) lol

I was sitting on my deck on Agnes St, blue pashmina covering the bare legs, pink slippers soldiering the chill for my feet.  Curled up in a hoodie with the pen scratching.  What a high!

• Breathing IS important.. a nod to yoga.  And acupuncture is a most amazing thing, feels oddly strange.

• Learning to take steps towards more expression.  I always thought that such permanent statements needed to be able to be hidden in certain public company.  The caterpillar disagrees, along with the Aum.

The illness doesn't create passion, but can fuel it.  The trick is to distract it from tempting you.

Depression is a bitch & there is still such a struggle with it.

• The husband has not been a partner for ages, yet it was still him and me against the world.  This part of our journey splits and its a tad scary.  Breathe, you have been preparing for this.

• Be a photographer or don't be a photographer.  Choose.

• Community adds a flavor to life.

• It's ok to walk away from those who can drain the mind and body.  Take the random experiences and filter.. keep strong the spirit. Things seem to be doing well.

• Thoughts are NOT facts - thank you sexy therapy guy.

• The Poet.  A character during the first mania.  Returning 1 month after my certification in Ridge Meadows psychiatric ward.  A most curious time.  Now he appears in April showing me holes in my strength, I underestimated his world.  

And he then becomes a main character a month later!  He is witnessing the final chapter in the 12 year relationship.  Fate wants me to pay attention.  

Hearts (taken just before coming to see you) + door shot in 2008.. Look into the doorknob.

•   When there is no deception, the heart rests.

The world owes you nothing. 

When this blog began,
it was with a desire to "write" something...
That had a bit of thought to it,
thesaurus at the ready.
My subject?
Instrumental Soundtrack, Requiem For A Dream.
And how it influenced the film
which then influenced the senses of life.

A world within a world.

So now I burn the candles and flip the switch
for the green bulb "Working" light.
The Poet's soundtrack began many years ago.  I wonder if he understands that?  Since walking beside him up Cedar St, singing the same chorus to a new dance tune Another Night, it has belonged to him.  Throughout life when I heard that song, I thought of him.  And how badly it annoyed him that I only sang the same 4 lines.  Annoyed but still adored.

In Edmonton this past April, he offered a complaint that I didn't play the radio and therefore he couldn't hear Katy.  Not sure exactly what I thought.  I knew her through my nieces, and heard bits and pieces of Firework - Katy Perry.  But the first time I listened to the whole song I  was in the car with the Poet.  We were driving back from Safeway, and he happened to turn on the radio.. and there was "Katy!"  It had been a few long days and we both just lost any inhibitions and rocked out the car dancing.  A memory I hold on too.  The soundtrack set and continued throughout the journey.  I can't believe he has me listening to Katy Perry!?  Once believed to be a teen singer.. pop all the way.  I was half right.  And now ET reminds me of driving around Edmonton the second time around....  it's the pop of all pop, but it sounds good.

The grand journey of following the heart had Born This Way - Lady GaGa as background... around 5am just outside of Chilliwack.  It was the first time hearing the whole song.
"I was born to be brave".

And finally a month later I was to leave the poet.  We shuffled our feet all morning ending up sitting on the sidewalk, the car looming beside us as a reminder.  Our hearts were heavy and the effervescence of our souls was felt like a wave.  A neighbour friend opened a window and faced speakers out to the street.  Man on the Moon - REM was her contribution to the moment.  I hardly knew it existed at first, lost in this man's arms.. his essence surrounding me like a bubble.

"Hey Andy, did you hear about this one?"

I felt the memory of the music but it wasn't until today that a vision was born from it. 

I remember burying my head in the Poet's neck 

and feeling safe enough to let out a sob, or quite a few tears with some loss of breath.

It was then I heard the music, 

and forever I will remain in that moment.  

My eyes are open, but my breath is shy.  

This exists forever.   

Whatever fate has in store, this moment changed the world.

I'm up and I"m down! Constant.  

He vented tonight, 

I"m glad I'm his confidant... 

he should never have to filter to me.  

Not about the important things.  

But it was hard to not take some responsibility, 

or just question that my showing up was worth it to him? 
Is this what he felt like when I broke down 

about home in Edmonton?  

Car, debt, friendships, people I put out, mental health challenges.  Debt remaining.  

My issues here aren't in comparison to his, 

I could only imagine his frustration right now.
All of these, were my choices.  

There is a small hope that he looks at this 

and knows for a fact 

that I believe in him and us. 

Do I regret anything?  

One thing, upsetting the heterosexual life partner 

with her bday surprise.

                               
                                   Would I do it again?  Without a doubt! 

Without a thought?  In a heartbeat.

I've fallen in love with a man that excites the soul, 

calms the skin & loves so grandly.  

Isn't That worth the world?  

Worth everything? 

It's what we all dream of.