My Slow Death©

The knife it twists, oh so deep
in my heart, filled with excruciating agony
slicing, bleeding, bits of flesh on floor
your voice violates my senses
drawing me to kill
the inner most part of me
no feeling, no pain
no recognition, no blame

Glazed apparition, of a life known
shredded, achingly apparent in waking actions
rearing its' head, biting into my memories
forcing me to die
heart, withering brown
no flow, no sight
no flame, no light


©Vartok Dana McLennan

This Deception ©

The clock is ticking
Time moves so slow
caught in a web
of lies and deception
A deception that grows
Hidden, alone
Yet everyone knows

Silence
Deafening madness
Corrupt, vile motives
City streets glare
A spectrum of possibilities
Did it choose you?

Flashy scenes
Catalog stares
The lies that you told
Confusion
Terror strikes
As the needle sinks
Nowhere left to wait

Nowhere to hide
Now that it's been tasted
Not a tear shed
For you anymore
Pain
Insufferable pain

Quickly
Before the end
Did the lie make you happy?
This deception
That you called life
Did reality taste
Bitter?



© Vartok  Dana McLennan

Symphony©

Lightning like a gentle lovers caress
Water rushes over the leaves
Pulling me, loving me
Thunder pounds the keys

Sweeping seas of agony
An affair of the heart
Spanning miles of earth
Rain falls upon the notes

Memories wildly flowing
Calling me, lost in the rush
Hollow dreams fall to the wayside
Winds whisper to the chords

Reflections in the stars
Of eyes that glow so bright
Spilling tears, drowning
Symphony complete

1998 Vartok© Dana McLennan

Burnt Remains©

Tracing through the ashes
What sits in the stillness
Before the winds carry me away

The ashes, my life, history
Scattered fragments of days gone
Broken dreams, in pieces on the ground

Winds pick up- blowing the ashes
These burnt remains
Of what I have become

Away

Vartok© Dana McLennan

Changes

 One of the many changes that I have planned to embrace this year, a breast reduction. This is something I have thought long and hard about and have attempted a few times. I say attempted, because a doctor would never give me a medical referral. Finally a month and a half ago I went to the doctor and she granted me that golden ticket. She contacted a plastic surgeon and said they would call me with an appointment.

I have been a double d cup since the dawn of my pre-teen years. That at least is what the regular department sizes tell me. Maybe if I would have gone to and been sized by a professional fitter they would have told me I was larger..oh joy. But alas it was not to happen, something about paying 80 dollars for boulder support kept me at Walmart. School years were not pleasant as comments about my overly large breasts ranged from the sexually perverse to the nickname "Dolly". Really? If I were Miss Dolly I would have zero waist and the money to remove these suckers at will. I suffer from back, shoulder, and neck pain. The insides of my upper arms bow rather than lie flat against my sides and I do believe that the sheer weight of them is possibly crushing my esophagus. You laugh but I swear I am serious.

I slowly started discussing my plan with family and friends and received mixed reactions. Of course everyone would be worried about the surgery itself and then the ramifications of this particular one. Female friends thought it was great, (mostly because they know themselves that a larger chest is not always amusing), male friends went into three stages of acceptance/denial, take your pick.
Stage 1- Whaa
Stage 2- but they are great, why would you want to get rid of them
Stage 3- Oh I think you are making a mistake, let's not talk about that anymore, that's silly, Who wouldn't want big boobs?

I'll tell you.... almost 70% of the naturally large by genetics women you know.....that is who
The only one impressed by them are men.
If you had 2, 20 lb breasts, you would have a backache too and not care what some sexually deprived/oversexed, again take your pick, man thought.

A week later, I was notified of my appointment and time. Excitements crept in. I began dreaming of a smaller chest size, a new trip to the lingerie store where they don't carry trebuchet size bras, and way less back pain. I show up and guess what, the Doctor didn't. Mistake in scheduling. Are you trying to make me cry? So I reschedule for the following week and leave depressed. I really, really want these suckers gone.
I return a Wednesday later and sit in anticipation for my appointment at 12:30 p.m. I wait and around 1 p.m. the doctor strolls in through the front door, phone attached to ear, like he's prepared to leave again for lunch. I am not enthused. A nurse calls me back and I enter the room at 1:05, she begins to ask me questions rudely mind you, then the doctor calls for her and she walks out mid-sentence. Very nice. I overhear him say to her, " While you are finding her paper I am going to see the next patient." I assume it is me because he just came in and had one patient, surely I am next, after all my appointment was at 12:30.

WRONG

He entered another room in which the door was obviously not closed, had her show him her breasts which had undergone recent augmentation, says they look great, come back in a week. He then finishes up with the original patient and enters my room. My nurse never did come back. The time on my phone reads 1:15.
He sits, asks me why I want the surgery I tell him, he answers his loudly ringing phone, reading my file under his breath but audible while he takes a personal call, hurriedly explains he is in with a client, hangs up and says as he's standing,  "you have to stop smoking for 6 weeks or I won't do the surgery". "Come back then if you have stopped." And then he walked on down the hall.....

I look at my phone, it is 1:22. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

So I do some research and find out this doctor has complaints against him, lawsuits, and mainly is or was a dentist, NICE. Disinterested office staff,  rude nurses, botched surgeries, and ignoring patients after the surgeries who have complaints of infection. I am not feeling a surgery coming on but I will search for a new doctor, one who might actually give a damn about where his money is coming from.

In the meantime, here are some links if anyone is interested in this for themselves. Always check your individual state licensing board for marks and or suspensions against a license.

Channel 6 News Report: The Cost of Plastic Surgery
Board Certification
Doctor Credentials
Mayo Clinic
Medline Plus
The American Society of Plastic Surgeons

Balance

So every day I struggle. I have struggled for years. There is always some problem or new drama that I thought for sure would be the death of me. Just an endless wave of heartache and troubles. The most important thing that I failed to realize over the years was that these problem while hurtful or hard to deal with would still be there, my reaction to them could have been so different. I don't mean running around screaming against the world reaction, I mean in how I let it drag me down, take me out of the game, and create this illusion in my head that prevented me from going forward with anything else. And it all boils down to one innocuous word, balance.

I have none, hell even as a kid I could trip over my own two feet. Seriously though when it comes to the day to day living I couldn't and still sometimes can't achieve a rational balance. For so long I have raised my kids, worked, made all of the household/child related decisions that somewhere I forgot how to fit me into that. I wanted to write but someone was sick. I needed an emotional break from my children but their father would not keep them that weekend. I received little to any help always causing me to become overly stressed by my choices. I wanted someone else to make these choices.

How would the rent get paid if the car needed worked on? How am I suppose to work and pick up my often disobedient child from school? How am I supposed to write my great novel when kids are slobbering over me asking when they can eat? Do I buy the healthier brand of food or the one I can afford?

Those might sound like silly questions but when daily you are pounded by hundreds of these types of questions and the decision and outcome of your possible choice weighs solely on your head it can be very daunting. I wish someone had told me about balance. Unfortunately I don't think it's taught but rather learned. I even believe some people are ingrained with it. How nice for them but what about the rest of us?

Slowly with some of the new changes in my life I am growing to understand my perfect balance. I don't believe balance is the same for everyone. Yes we all have work, school, children's social and sporting life, deadlines, and doctor's appointments, but I'm not merely referring to that which can be put on a calender.
Maybe for some it's God, for others it's downtime with family, for me it's personal.

It is how I react to situations now, how I balance the calender, my many jobs, children and their issues, and having me time.
For so long I thought if I spend more time on my self by writing and creating that I must be taking away from my children and time solving the mountain of problems that loomed over me. I didn't realize that if I had taken that step that possibly even then I might have resolved some of those problems immediately.

It is a daily struggle still. I have to keep a date book or I will go insane. I have a work, kid's activities and jobs, appointments, two side businesses that I am running, and writing,
Finally, my writing has a permanent place in my day to day life other than in my head. It is now on paper or in my computer but nevertheless it is still out of my thoughts and into realization. Sometimes it might be two am in the morning and I am writing because it is the first chance of the day to do so but I can be happy because I am made the choice.

And while all the other problems are still here, brakes are bad, electric is over due, hours cut at work, misbehaving children, they will still be there when I finish my writing, Had I not written, the problems wouldn't have been any different but with having done so, I am.

When I Awoke.....

     Early last year my friend concocted the idea that we should go to Cancun. Many times she has invited me on various trips. I always answered no. Of course,  I wanted to go but the usual stopped me...I can't leave the kids, too much responsibility, my job, etc etc..you get the point. This time I thought no and said yes. I really wanted to go. I have always wanted to travel and something this time felt right. So I made the arrangements, paid my part, and started dreaming of blue skies and water.


     This would be a good time to tell you that I had only flown once in March of 2009 and nearly had a dozen panic attacks both ways and swore never to do it again. (This is lie, there is an exception...more on that later.) Along comes May, we are set to arrive on Cinco De Mayo. We leave out of St. Louis to Dallas. I breathe, I don't pee myself, amazingly we make it there alive. So we are in Dallas...everything is swell..we shop and stop at a bookstore in the airport. I want to save money but I can and do buy books everywhere so I tell myself this is just a browsing trip. Glancing through a particular wall I come across two books that really interest me. I pause, remember I am not spending until Cancun, then walk on.

     We are prepared to board when an announcement is sent that our flight is indefinitely delayed. This makes me nauseous as the longer I waited the more nervous I was bound to be. We decide to sit, then eat, then when hours later we are still there, go for a walk. She wants coffee. There is coffee at the Starbucks attached to the book store. Oh no I already won that war. If  I go back will I spend? Can I say no? The answer is maybe. Had this book not been so compelling I would not have bought the second one also...I blame the beckoning display.















    This is the book I couldn't let go. I also purchased a book by Cash Peters.
     Finally we boarded and to quell the panic rising I settled into my seat and opened her up. I began to read and kept reading, before I knew it Cancun was right under our landing gear and I had not died. Due to our late arrival and the drive to our beautiful Tucancun hotel being a good twenty-five minutes we chose to have a few drinks with friends and turn in. Shows how old  I am getting. Anyway after a shower I padded across the stone floor and flounced into the indoor chaise, popped open a Modelo and began to read again.

I never stopped, that book became an extension the entire trip, relaxing, mind opening , and embracing this wonderfully brave women, Rita, as she found herself again after many years of just sleepwalking through life. With each page I was remembering who I was, (the writer who struggled to balance writing and kids), with each chapter I felt stronger, and with each adventure she had, the wanderlust that existed in my soul from childhood slowly came back.

      I was in Cancun a week. It took everything in me to hold off reading the last few pages of  freedom I was discovering in a strangers story until I arrived home. I needed to finish it at home and alone. I think I needed to know that I could hold that book in my hands at home and feel the same way I did being thousands of miles away. To know it wasn't just the draw of the salty warm air and collected seashells luring me into a false sense of excitement.
 
     I arrived late in the evening, had dinner with the kids, listened to their week without me, and turned in early.

     When I awoke, I sent the kids off to school, and set out to unpack. My eyes settled on "the book", immediately I knew it was the right time to finish it. By the last paragraph I knew that change was coming. I knew that a direction had been charted.

   Months have passed, almost a full year now, and while the changes for the most part have been small I remind myself of something I taught my oldest child when trying to learn. Baby steps.
 
     For years I have been letting the external pressures get to me, to mar my day, to rule everything from my mood to my radio. I am done. I am taking my life back. Back to the delicious liberation I felt when I was that girl living on the edge.
    

Reinventing Me

     Life has a funny way of throwing curve balls at every stop along the highway of life. Depending on the pit stop you make or the exit you get off, everything changes. The scenery. The direction. The location. Everything. The one constant on that trip is the mode of transportation. My body, my brain, somewhere the shy child later to be the shy teenager, purpose driven graduate, all resides in that constant. It is so easy to get wrapped up in the necessaries of life as we believe them to be that along the way one becomes lost.


I have become increasingly lost. I want that person back. The person inside my brain that knew exactly who she was, what she was going to do, to become. The girl who was going to buy the van and create wondrous poetry and brilliant works in it on the way to Monterey. The girl who was going to write somewhere new everyday.

The dictionary states that reinvent as a verb means bringing back into existence or use. It is time I came back to existence.

Time to start living again...

Time to be the girl who was going to live by the edge of the world.