Sunday, February 28, 2010

710. of sight and love and blindfolds

She took the blindfold and secured it tightly behind his head. I want you to know me as I know you, to know me by touch and smell, to travel my contours with fingers and tongue, to know your way as only the blind know the landscape beyond sight.

He sighed. She kissed him on the back of his neck, gently removed his shirt and let her fingers flow as water down his chest.

(for those new to the story, Em lost her sight in a rather bizarre accident. She regained her sight some months later with rather exotic oculars, which she can wear like contact lenses, or take them out and return to the world beyond sight)

Monday, February 22, 2010

I am going to see Rodrigo y Gabriela at the Ryman Auditorium. Want to get tickets and join me? Here is my event info: sec: BAL-15, row: K, seats: 5-6

I am going to see Rodrigo y Gabriela at the Ryman Auditorium. Want to get tickets and join me? Here is my event info: sec: BAL-15, row: K, seats: 5-6

709. Owls in the morn

Outside their window, owls, heard, not seen. A gentle call of lovers, soothing surrations of throated desire, tolling into the breeze, steady, consistent in the way of a soft rain, in the bend of wrist pouring another's cup full, in eyes bright in the wonders of mysteries known from the first apple bitten, from the first look of desire, from the natural need to seek and be sought.

She rolled into his embrace as a gentle wave rolls upon the shore and where there was the one, in wetness touched, in the sparkling embrace of sea and sand, where sky and ocean meet, where to the bird above the wind lifts, there, was home, that place where eyes closed and dreams danced and time was a door, of a cottage, by the sea.

Upon the crook of his arm, that tender warm angle, she nestled her head, her hair flowing upon the sheets, wanton of nothing but the moment, the soft touch of lips beyond words, of eyes cistern full as after a spring rain. The warmth of the night became the warmth of the morning and sheets white looked as mountain ranges of light and shadow, of dawn breaking into mauve and pink.

I am, she said, healed in your arms, whole again. I am the child of dreams and before me is clover and bloom and the fragrance of fields alive with nature and flutter, of bees and birds, a vibration, an energy known before thought, before conception. I walk, she said, as one walks without time in that place without watch or clock or tick or agenda. I walk with you, she said. I walk because of you.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Day: 101-5

Brief update:

After five days off the meds, I feel again absolutely wonderful in every way, shape and fashion. Circumstances are still what they were and our fridge started leaking water last night, but my response and reaction has been perfectly normal, exactly the way that a healthy person would react, which is to say, it is what it is, we find a solution and move forward with no drama, regardless of what is happening around me. In short, I feel natural and genuine and authentic in a way that I never did on meds. Life and my sensations feel real, as they should, as they did. Still early, only five days out, but I remain very optimistic. Very. Oh, and in addition to everything else that has returned as it was, so has my normal online flirtatiousness. And it feels so good to feel that energy flowing through my fingers again and the prose and verse coming as naturally as day to night and night to day.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Day: 100-4

Fourth day completely off the meds. In summary:

--sexual sensitivity has fully returned
--desire to read and write has fully returned
--desire to read poetry has returned
--full and complete enjoyment of music has returned
--I have not been able to perceive even the slightest physical, mental, or emotional withdrawal symtom
--in fact, I've felt better in all aspects over the last four days than I have in the last four years
--starting on the meds 100 days ago was the right decision
--stopping the meds after 96 days, so far, has been the right decision
--I do not regret either and would not change either decision
--I feel a joy for life, these last four days that seems as it should be, as life should be, as love and joy and happiness should be
--I feel an eternal gratitude to all who have tolerated my premed and med induced blogging behavior and have provided me with more love and hugs than I could have ever imagined
--I am cautiously optimistic that I have turned a corner and I am again moving in a positive direction and that I am again the person I know myself to be
--it is as if waking from a nightmare to a beautiful spring day
--I have surrounded myself with wood and I'm knocking every hour on the hour ;-)

Friday, February 19, 2010

Day: 99-3

Day: 99-3

Still no side-effects to stopping cold turkey. None. I feel more alive than I have since December and my ability and desire to write has returned as it was premed. Music too is again a joy in my life and last night, I picked up a magazine and read--something I had not done in six or seven weeks, something I could not bring myself to do on meds--there was just absolutely no desire, as if to read anything was a chore. All my premed sensitivities (the good ones) are reemerging and it feels as if a mask or a fog or some medicated filter has been lifted, as if the windshield of my life has had the film removed and I can see and feel and experience life again with love and joy and happiness. I know this initial euphoria of having an emotional life will fade to normal, but if anything, I'm going to enjoy today, and remember what it was like to feel again, to love again, to look upon the sun and want to stand in it.

Listening to music this morning and I cannot overemphasis the joy I feel to be moved again by melody and lyric. Music has again become a flow for me, not some insipid architectural construct devoid of an emotional plane. The only way I know to explain it is this: imagine your favorite dish losing all taste and for three months you could taste nothing--and then, one day, all the depth and joy of flavor returned. This is how it feels. I am utterly amazed at the mysteries of the human chemical makeup and humbled at the razor thin line that makes life a joy or a bland nothingness. Thankful is the feeling, for I know that what I have today is a gift, not something I willed or determined or created of my own devices. I do not believe in a higher power, but if I did, this experience would be a deposit in that bank account of belief.




Day: 98-2

Intense disagreement with my SO over stopping meds cold turkey last night. A significant challenge/test to my emotional foundation. So far, so good. On this second day, still early, without meds, I feel again a certain sharpness of something I can't quite describe, but it makes me feel alive in a way that the meds did not. I listened to music with joy last night for the first time in 97 days and I can't wait to see if today, that joy is still there.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

In Bloom

708. duet

In your air, I float, tethered by your gaze, moored in your arms . . .

and the vistas before us . . .

are as meadows in spring . . .

as bees alive upon the blooming bed . . .

as clover lush . . .

in the blush . . .

of what is felt . . .

beyond what can be said

707. in the breath

"It is in the breath that we live and it is in the breath that what is two becomes one, where the warmth of you becomes the warmth of me, where our spirits kiss as angels before the moon."

Overheard, Trev to Em

706. as the sun

"You look upon me like the sun upon the flowers and as the day blooms warm and bright and full of life, this too is what you do to me."

Overheard, Em to Trev

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

me and my maria

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Day: 97

After 96 days (last night) I made the decision to stop medication. The lack of drive and concern for anyone or anything simply cannot be tolerated. I will, as always, watch very closely, especially since it it not recommended to stop but rather to scale down first. I will, as before, document my experience. My hope is at sometime, what I have experienced and journaled will be of help to someone. What do we have in this world if not each other.

__________

9:42pm

I'm listening to music as I have not listened in 97 days. I cannot overemphasis the joy this gives me--and the hope.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Bee mine?

Day: 96

As the days slip by, the effect and affect of the meds becomes more and more subtle and to know what is med based and what is not has become exceedingly difficult--so here is what I know

(1) I haven't been to a bookstore in weeks--I haven't picked up a book or a magazine in the same period--if you know me, this behavior is so far from the norm as to be disconcerting--why this is the case is a mystery to me but for whatever reason, my desire to read, and this goes for blogs too (please take no offense that I have not been visiting and reading), has evaporated

(2) drive and motivation is deathly absent and things that should worry and concern me (job, money, relationships) don't--I know logically that they should and I am aware of the issues, aware of the dangers, aware of the abyss, but there is just not even a scintilla of concern--it is driving those around me crazy--I cannot for the life of me understand who this person is that I have become

(3) on most days, I feel, and this is very, very subtle at this stage, but I feel under the influence of the meds--I cannot emphasis just how subtle this sense is and I tend to know it indirectly, by shadow rather than shape, by absent as much as presence--about 10% of my days I feel absolutely, completely and positively normal in every respect (maybe less than 10%)--about 85% I live in this medicated state that is so subtle as to be maddening in the way that a word on the tip of the tongue, just out of reach, is--perhaps most frightening, on very rare occasions, the emotional nuts and bolts come loose and perspective goes out the window and I just hang on for dear life, fully aware of the insanity knocking at my door--a return, to steal a phrase, into that darkness--what is equally frightening is the short periods of complete normalcy because it is in these moments that I am able to see the other states most clearly and to see that all is not right, not as it should be

(4) sexual function works, but as I alluded to in day 83, there are subtle differences that are frustrating--I'll leave it at that to avoid TMI

(5) in short, at this stage, there is a childlike carefree-ness that I can see and that I am aware of that I can do nothing about--I can resist it and I can work against it, but the energy required is enormous--and, like despair, the effect of the meds undermines the very foundation you need to stand upon to fight


Let me say this and be very clear: all of the effects I'm describing are so subtle as to be almost imperceivable--I have no complaint against the meds for I feel that have done exactly what they are suppose to do and the net effect has been more good than not--knowing what I know now, I would make the exact same decision as I did 96 days ago--the simple question remains, where do I go from here

for all those who have stuck by me with love and hugs and support I want to say how very, very much this has meant--I feel at times as if I have abandoned you guys and there are days I don't even visit my own blog, again, a behavior so far from my premed state as to be alarming--just know, even when I don't respond individually to every comment as I did for five years, I am fully aware of all the love you guys have sent my way and I cannot emphasis how much it has meant to me

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Testing


Day: 90

Update and summation after 90 days coming (hopefully):

*******

Day 83:

the sense of giddiness has faded or been absent the last few days--too early to tell if this is a trend, if this particular side-effect is abating on its own or whether the stress of my current situation is playing a part--I am glad to see it go--always felt artificial and unnatural and was not helpful with regard to doing anything productive--the mood was nice but it was not conducive to getting much done

yesterday, I felt the old familiar stirrings of emotion with music--not as strong as before but it was nice in the way an aroma is nice when it brings forth pleasant memories--still no real desire to search out new music

lack of desire to read and write remains a mystery--I pick up a book, start to read, but have no desire to finish more than a sentence or two--been this way for about five, maybe six weeks--I'm dumbfounded as to why

on the sexual front, everything works and functions as it should, albeit orgasm remains slightly more difficult to achieve and borders between work and pleasure--not severe enough to go off the meds but a continuing concern--likewise, although function is within normal range and libido remains as strong as ever, something has changed--I've tried for the last couple of weeks to understand what has changed and for the life of me, it remains elusive--the memories of my twenty anorgasmic days are still fresh in my memory and so I can't tell if I am dealing with some very subtle fear, a side-effect of the meds, or, as most likely in these cases, some combination of the two--sexual fantasy has dropped off--no longer providing a mental escape--and although sexual desire remains strong, something with the libido is off--some process that I cannot put my finger on--there is both sexual desire while at the same time some odd missing aspect of that desire--as if the mind is willing but the body is not and what is so odd is, the body is working as it should

Monday, February 01, 2010

Day: 81

pulling oxygen from the air
giving it back

waves upon the shore
dawn arising

how many more beats
how many more breaths

to seed and harvest
and do it again

and again
under sun

and rain
before the great seasons

before the accounting
so we hope



This poem is not very good and this is by no means false modesty. I post it for one significant reason: in 81 days, this is the first time that even the idea of a poem has entered my mind and I found the desire to open a page and type a few words. Like a homecoming it felt, to write again.