Selective Mutism.

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So, it’s Wednesday. I’m at work and the power just went out so I figure I’d use this time to update my blog!! Hello pups. How goes it? Hope you’re all staying warm/cool/dry/happy!

Just wanted to fill y’all in on a few things..

So, recently I’ve been chatting with a friend about a project I’ve been working on…and it’s something I’ve been slowly putting together for ten years now.

I know what you’re thinking…how can you be working on something that long and not have finished it? Well, simply put..I didn’t realise at the time I started, it was going to turn into such a huge undertaking. He suggested I should write out, snippets of things while I work on them. So, here is one.

Guess I should explain myself a little. You see, I’m primarily a poet, but I do have a passionate desire to write a few full length books. The first book I hope to complete, it is going to be a nonfiction piece. An educational book of sorts, that’s the hope at least. I am hoping to put together a book about my experience as a child, growing up in the special needs program.
My entire school career, I was in the special needs program. Albeit, a high functioning member…but a member none the less. In my later school years, I became more of an aid to my teachers and case worker, as I needed less assistance.

So, I had been able to observe several things that weighed on my mind, and heart, for years after.
Our education system in America is lacking. A lot.

The amount of children with differentiating educational needs is vast and diverse, yet the methods we “teach” these children with, aren’t. There are only a few classifications for special needs children in this country, but thousands of different special needs that are not being catered to.

I am going to start a small series here on my blog whilst I compile my resources and hopefully finish the book. I encourage you, reader, to share your stories with me, if you have any. I want to know how being in a special needs program, or knowing someone in a special needs program, impacted your life.

I will start here.

When I was a child, learning how to talk, I was an absolute chatterbox. My mother would always say I had a vast and extensive vocabulary for a child younger than 3. However, when I entered preschool, I no longer was a chatterbox.

I became silent, scared and unresponsive to my fellow students, teachers, even my mum when she was with me in a school or public setting. I would sit, rigidly, and stare at my hands or the ground. I did not play with other children, or partake in group activities. Nothing. I would sit, in a corner or at my desk..alone. I had seemingly shut down. So, my mum took me to see a doctor. She had become concerned for me. I was diagnosed with a social anxiety disorder called Selective Mutism. For those of you, whom may be shaking your head and going, “Emily…what are you talking about?” Here is the best, short description of SM, I could find.  –

Selective mutism (SM) is an anxiety disorder, in which a person who is normally capable of speech, does not speak in specific situations or to specific people. Selective mutism usually co-exists with shyness or social anxiety. People with selective mutism stay silent even when the consequences of their silence include shame, social ostracism or even punishment.

(I will refer to Selective Mutism as SM from now on to save myself some time.)

Now, it is very important for me to say that I was diagnosed with SM, early and subsequently treated for it, as best as was known how at the time.(Keep in mind, this was 1995..) What was known about SM back then, was very little. Therefore the options were limited.

Once I started primary school, I was sent to the schools speech therapist. She was a huge part of the reason I am able to “function” like a normal person…most days. She would take me out of class twice a week, and work with me, one on one, on small exercises to get me to speak to her in a conversational manner. It took some time, but I eventually was able to invite a friend or two to sit in with us. We would play games and I would be encouraged to interact with my classmates during that time.

Over the course of a few years, it was determined that, for me personally…school wasn’t the stressor..rather the crowds. Large, loud crowds scared me. (Still do, just not to that extreme extent.) I was teased for being nonverbal, and therefore I was recoiling from social interaction even more.

Okay, that’s enough for today…next time hopefully I can go into elaborate detail, since hopefully I’ll be on my laptop and not on mobile.(My thumbs hurt.)

I hope you have a wonderful Wolf Wednesday pups! I love you! xxx 💓💋🐺🐾🐾🌙

Senses.

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Happy Sunday pups. Here’s a poem I just finished. For, Άλφα..thank you for having patience with me.

Sensory deprivation is a horrid form of torture, and I brought it upon myself. But you, you’re slowly giving me my wolf like senses back, baby. In the quiet moments before each sunset, I can hear the soft, steady beat of your heart. I’d like to think I could hear your voice in my dreams last night, slowly drifting through my brain.

I told you once of the damage my body suffered while in my adolescent lifetime, and you ran your hand along the lines I wear upon my back; the ones that silence clawed into my flesh. And I swear, in that moment I felt every bend in my spine, every knot loosened, instantly.

I had such dulled senses when it comes to touch… I would have never thought you could draw such a reaction out of my skin, yet there you were. So gentle, and patient, that even I had mistaken your breath for an autumn breeze.

Viva la Pluto.

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Happy Tuesday pups! In light of the Pluto flyby, which gave us beautiful pictures of my favourite planet!..  I’m re-releasing my ode to Pluto.

http://www.theverge.com/2015/7/14/8958079/nasa-new-horizons-pluto-color-image

image

I wrote this one when I found out Pluto got stripped of it’s planetary status.

Remember, just because you’re a dwarf planet, doesn’t mean you can’t make a big impact.

My dear sweet Pluto, you have been shamed. stripped of all your achievements, humiliated amongst your peers. they say, you are too small, inconsequential and unworthy. the planetary merits you were bestowed, stolen. when i was young, they taught me your name. fed me scriptures of structured words. i learned how, even though you were small, you had an atmosphere all your own. it gave me a vision of unique solidarity. they said you were last in line, the end. but i know, you were merely the final spectacle of a wondrous parade. they frowned upon how brightly you illuminated their telescope lenses. now, all we can do is marvel at how even though they tried to erase you away, you never left the skies.

The Wolf.

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So, happy Monday pups! I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve written anything… Just been crazy busy.
But, few things, I am just getting over walking pneumonia..I’ve had it over a month… Which isn’t gone yet so I will need to go back to the doctor..despite how much I don’t want to.

Also, uhm I’ve got an interview coming up in a week or so..and ohhhh man I am NERVOUS!!

But yeah..we’re working four days a week again..and someone on first shift got a better job in New York, so he moved there..so he would be able to better support and raise his family..and I’m so happy for him!! So we’ve been busy getting a temp in.

My grandma is doing well.. She’s happy..which is great. Went to see her this weekend..she is still convinced I’m my mum.. But at least she knows me and still likes me..so I’ll take it!

Uhm, my uncle’s murder trial sentencing was a few weeks ago as well..that girl got the max of 11 years in prison.. So there’s some semblance of justice.  I would have liked to see her get life in prison but.. You win some…You lose some.

My cousin’s birthday was yesterday..she had a party…and it was fun. My sister is at a music festival right now.. Or..just came home from one..idk.

I’m doing a little proofreading, some editing and some fun writing things at the moment!

I have a blurb/poem to share with y’all. I wrote this a few years ago when I was working through some self hate issues. Everybody goes through things they’re not keen to talk about with everyone, but I’m a firm believer that if your story/struggle can inspire and help someone…you should share that and try to make the world a brighter place. So, I’m sorry for the weird format of it..but yeah…HAPPY MONDAY, PUPS.. And remember..I love you! xxx

As she stared into the eyes of the vicious beast, which now stood before her, a familiar glint of color crossed into it’s eyes. the dark beast barred it’s sharp teeth, and hissed in an all too soft, sweet voice, laced in malice; ‘i told you never come this way. go back little girl, i warned. but on you pressed. now look…all that surrounds you is darkness. nothing can protect you from me now. i own you.’ the sweet voice snarled. the little girl, trembling, and frightened, turned to run. but something held her to the spot. she shut her eyes, now burning with bitter tears, and thrashed about wildly. until suddenly, the little girl threw her eyes wide open. but the beast had vanished. in it’s place was her own image. taller, darker, older…and sadder. she looked around her. there was red everywhere. blood. she looked again at the image in front of her. the hands. her hands, she gasped, were covered in cuts… glass, and blood everywhere. she hadn’t been fighting a beast…she had fought herself. and now….she saw she lost. that little girl….never made it out of the fight alive.

Let’s go hunting together tonight.

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There’s an alpha hidden underneath those hunched shoulders,
something carnal lurking in your mind. You told me so, cautiously. But oh, how I want to see it. To feel the beast inside you, claw it’s way to the surface of your skin, just to take over your vision. Bring that monster out of you, and I will try to soothe his aches.
That polychrome glint off your eyes in the moonlight,
shows me just how clearly you see me in the dark.

I have always hidden away with my lycanthropy,
too terrified of this curse within myself to venture out into the night. Being a monster was not my greatest feature.
That was,
until you drew this beast out of me.
So soft your voice was,
when you told me of the same fear you held inside your own heart.

Last night,
I stared up at the moon,
threw my head back and howled at the top of my lungs,
hoping you were somewhere on the other side of the world,
far across the vast ocean that separates us, standing out in the darkness too.
with your eyes pointed skyward,
and your head tipped back,
howling the same,
beautiful song that is packed beneath my bones.

I have never looked for an alpha,
especially not one so far away,
but you found me. Said, we’re similar and the same. I know, we strangely fit together in a way I’m not sure I’ve known about except in old war stories.
And so maybe we’re part of the same origins, we have the same stardust coursing inside of us. The same fight, we know each other struggles, but I won’t let you give up, and you won’t let me give out.

I find comfort in your quiet authority,
the power you hold over me.
It’s not a dominating force,
just a gentle guiding hand that I can almost feel on the small of my back.

I wonder if your teeth are as sharp as I make sure mine are.
My soul wonders if you would ever tear into my flesh,
just to see if I tasted sweet. Maybe you would, maybe I’d try and taste you back. Grab a piece of you to hold in my mouth.

Part of me wants to see how far I can go,
to try and reach that prime evil center,
the one you’ve hidden away inside your chest.
I bet it’s a beautiful beast you’re hiding. So strong and unstoppable.

The weight of your secret is collapsing your chest,
even the steel strength of your resolve will crack one day.

I tell you, that you have a quiet beauty behind your eyes,
threaded fondness into the softness of your voice.

I want you to know that yes,
you are quite the alpha, and whilst I’m not looking for a mate, maybe I’m looking for a partner, an equal force in this vast, messed up world. Maybe we’re not together in any way but, I would submit my will to follow your direction if you felt you should give it. Not because that’s what I feel I should do, but because I feel I can trust you, I can feel the honesty all the way from here.
I enjoy the feeling of knowing I can give myself over to someone else who would take complete control of everything,
and I would still always be safe within that moment with them.

That is what an alpha is for,
safety and protection.
I trust you with this burden within me.

I want to follow your lead,
I want to seek guidance from you for these scars I wear. Because I know you have scars of your own, and maybe you’d know just what to do.

You never once flinched away at the horrors I presented you with,
all the tangled up lines of trauma,
I threaded into my silences.

It’s strange to think of you as someone I am close with,
even though I’ve not known you very long at all.

I was able to share my secret with you,
and not only did you understand,
but you told me that was the thing you were enthralled by.
My secret,
that monster living in my chest,
you said you have the same one,
that’s living inside of you.
They both are waiting to claw their way out of our souls,
ready to tear us to pieces.

But I know you’re prepared for a fight,
maybe if I spend enough time with you,
I’ll be ready someday too.

I told you that I would never let you feel unsafe, even though it’s not my job to protect you,
I want to make it clear that I would lay down my life to protect you from the monster that you fear may come for you.

If you ever had to run from it again,
I would give you a safe place to rest.

Right here,
in my arms I would hold you, because even though you’re the alpha,
all I want to do,
is take care of you.

That’s how we found each other. The universe placed us in the same darkness. I can keep your soul warm, if you keep me safe.

It is terribly sad that you are so far, for I wish to one day know what it is like to curl around you in the dark. Would you let me sleep next to you, if I promised to keep you warm through the winter?

Gus and Johnnie George. They run with the wild horses now.

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There’s a wind running through the trees here. It’s not that we’ve forgotten you, we remember.

I remember your tall spirit, the sturdy line of your back, each graying hair.

Someone asked me once, if I could go back to any moment in time, where would I go?

I would go back to the moment I first saw you dancing in the barn. Your tall, strong legs were carrying you across the floor effortlessly.

I miss the way you would get up early to go tend to your horses, every day you would sing and dance your way from the house, to barn, to field and back again.

When I was young, you told me, never lose the reason your heart beats.

I never understood it, until now. I live to be a writer, to share my stories and to preserve your legacy. You lived to be my grandparents, us kids made your whole world go ’round. You told us so, everyday. Once, I remember watching you two dancing, to an old song and I thought, ‘this is what happiness must feel like.’

I do miss you everyday. Four years apart, we lost each one of you. When you were both gone, something inside of me must have snapped. I remember grand moments like, making breakfast on a Saturday morning. Or watching old TV on a Sunday afternoon.

Mawmaw, you taught me how to do crossword puzzles in ink. I’ve still not yet mastered it, but if there’s one thing you passed down to me, it was fight. I won’t ever give up.

Poppy, you were the one who gave me the power of poetry. Wrote me little stanzas to keep with me, I still have them. You let me believe in the power of my own words, when I didn’t have a voice.

It’s grown so quiet now, I miss you everyday. But I know that even though you’re gone, I’ve still got you inside my veins.

🐾

Invisible ink.

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You asked me to never write you down.

As an artist, pain has always been threaded into my bones. Once, you asked me why I’m so sad. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. At least, not until now. Pain is so familiar to me that no matter where I go, what I do, whom I surround myself with, or who I become; I’m still itching to dig around inside my veins. Find something tangible that I can pull out by the roots and lay out for everyone to see it.

I want to see you written down on a page in this notebook. The one in my hands, it begs to have your name etched inside it’s small margins.

You forbade me to ever place you upon a page, so instead I’ve got you running through my veins.

You’re made of stardust and silence, things even I can’t find. But your soul is made of hard rock and white bone, I see the cracks forming now. I stitched your name inside my mouth, as to keep you from spilling out onto a page. But sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, to find your memory laid out beside me upon an empty pillow.

Pain is such a familiar feeling, that now without it, I’m so unsure. You took pieces of yourself from my life slowly. One at a time. Replacing your body, with memories.

Last night, it was so cold. The winter wind curled around me so tightly, it reminded me of you. How your love was icy water trapped inside my skin. Never will I have the courage to look back and try to find you. If I did, maybe I’d try to fight you, see how much I could take before you broke me again. But I can’t. I won’t. It’d kill me, I think. I’m too afraid to face you.

And for that, some days I’m glad I’m such a coward.

The light from within the darkness.

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You laugh, like a summer breeze. Short, quiet bursts of refreshment in an otherwise still air space.

You’ve got the kind of mind I want to climb inside. I want to learn where the dips and cracks of memories become the dreamlike worlds you’ve spoken about.

I’m curious to know if being reckless was something you hoped for, or if you wanted someone to fashion themselves into a safety net beneath you. Neither seems right, at least not yet.

I imagine your hands are practiced with a pen and your mouth steady with the stillness placed on it.

You say silly things, like you don’t like wearing jeans. And I’ve never yet met someone who doesn’t like coffee, but has the same moonlight running in their blood.

Comfort is a strange thing. I found myself paying close attention to the way your mouth formed around a word today. And the careful upward curve of your smile, how strange a thing it is to be comforted by a stranger’s ability to cease becoming a stranger.

I felt connected with you, we share similar lifelines. There are places and moments we can both relate to, in much the same way.

Sleep never comes easy for me, it doesn’t come easy I’ve learned for you either. Maybe that’s because of the moonlight we carry with us. The moon never sleeps, even in the middle of the day. She’s still up, you just can’t see her.

We’re intermittently silent, but it’s never uncomfortable. It doesn’t feel dangerous.

There are things I have yet to learn of you, places I have yet to tell you about.

But us werewolves, we’re immortal baby. We’ve got all the time in the world.

So laugh for me again. That’s right, laugh. With me, for me, at me; it doesn’t matter. Just laugh, because when you do, my gosh you look so beautiful.

I must go.

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Good Saturday evening pups! Hope y’all are doing well! Just a small update, the last 24 hours have been very stressful and eventful here in the dog house! I went to bed fairly early for a weekend, but I’ve been working four 12 hour shifts recently. Granted, it is overtime, but it just wears me out!

Manufacturing can sometimes wear on the bones!

Anyways, last night at about 1 in the morning my mum woke me up. She was having chest pains, thought she was having a heart attack. So, I had to call the squad(EMS). While I was on the phone, she collapsed and was having trouble breathing. I’m glad we’re only two minutes away from an EMS out post. Once they got here, they got her down stairs and sat her in a chair. They did a field EKG, she wasn’t having a heart attack. But, she was doubled over in pain, turning a grey color and felt faint. She kept refusing the ride to the hospital, and started to feel better. When they were just about to have us sign the release form, she doubled over again. SO, I told her I’d feel better if she went in the ambulance. She spent the night in the hospital, they did a stress test and a chest x-ray. Results were inconclusive, but they are pretty sure it was just an esophageal spasm. She came home this afternoon, and she’s going to be alright.

I told my little sister what was going on, and after work she came home. (She lives two hours away.) Right now, she’s sitting on the couch next to me, doing homework! Feels like we’re kids again…I miss her now that she’s away.

Anyways, the poem! I wrote this quite some time ago. Over 10 years ago to be precise! I want to share it because I’ve been missing this place so much. I haven’t been to Sanibel Island in a few years, it’s been my families vacation destination since my grandparents were new parents! Crazy!

This year for my birthday, I am hoping to take a trip down there….and I am very excited!

Hope you enjoy!

I must go visit Florida again, 
to the sea, 
And the shoreline; 
all I ask is for a week to explore it. 
The seas salty spray, 
the waves loudly crashing, 
and the gulls 
calling.

I long to hear the winds whistle across the beach.

I must go visit Florida again, 
for the feel of the warm sun. 
It's shine is beckoning to me, 
it's call will not yield. 
All I ask is for a warm day, 
to watch the waves rolling in,
washing the footprints from the sand.

I must go visit Florida again, 
to run across the snow white sands.
Walk on the sand dunes,
underneath a southern moon. 


A vacation home on the shoreline,
a quiet place to relax without a care.

Yes, I must go visit Florida again, 
Someday, I will take you there.

If I tell him, he’ll never see anything but the scars…

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So, hey pups. Happy Sunday fun day! My mum and I went to see my granny this afternoon. She had a good day. She had a good day yesterday as well. My little sister was home for a few days as well, so she and I went to see our granny yesterday…we sat outside on the patio. My sister had her first day of her new job at a National Park today! Apparently it was great, and stressful? I don’t know…anyways..I have a poem to share with you today, I wrote it this morning…I….I wanted to write it for someone whom, I feel I owe an explanation to…and I hope they understand why the untouchable places that I have…exist.

Soft hands, aren’t as easily accessible as I wish they were; sometimes trusting people, can almost get you killed.

I remember the night those hands touched me for the first time, your fingers wrapped around the back of my neck, your arm pressing harshly into my chest. I couldn’t breath, I was unable to move, you forced your way into my world. I wasn’t even scared of you, we were friends. I trusted you, I thought you cared about me.

The air was warm that night, despite it being mid December. When you were done, and you released my throat, I took such a panicked gasp of air, you slapped me. Your knuckles collided with my cheekbone so hard, I heard a small crack. My legs couldn’t hold me upright any longer, they collapsed underneath me. You hauled me up by my forearm and threw me back into the passenger’s seat.

For years, I tried to cut your image out of my nightmares. Your poison still runs in my veins, I fear I’ll never be rid of it. There is not one person who knows the whole truth about all the unadulterated evil you placed inside of me, and I hope one day, I will be able to cleanse these wounds of your name.

Sometimes, late at night, I hear a scratching underneath my bed. I know monsters exist, but you made me one of them, and I am not afraid of you any longer. Now, what terrifies me, is one day, a good man will unzip my soul, and find these pieces; this mess I still carry around inside of me, and he will think me unclean. I have never let a good man love me, because good men, should not have to clean up after monsters.