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Stephen E Yocum Jul 2017
I rolled out of bed
to start my day,
but the power was off
my all electric home,
as still as a grave.
No coffee, or toast.
The refrigerator not cold,
the freezer started dripping
the contents soon to spoil.

No computer, no cell phone service!
I began sweating profusely,
no air conditioning to cool me.
Not even a TV Emergency Broadcast Alert,
to release this uneasy feeling of topsy-turvy .

I drove into town seeking a pay phone,
with not a single one to be found,
gone the way of the dinosaurs,
extinct now too I assumed.

My old truck had no computer chips,
most cars did and were dead in their tracks.
I needed gas but the gas station pumps
electric computer driven, all DOA to boot.

The Nations electric grid had crashed,
blacked out, stone cold dead everywhere.
All heavenly satellites blacked out, expired.
Everything computer related (and
that is about everything), had ceased
to function as had the electronic reliant
world we had created.  

The street throngs of dazed people walked
around like zombies, clutching blacked out
dead computer devices, knowing not what to do.
Not even talking, forgotten I guess how to do that too.
As dependently defectively programmed as the useless
devices in their hands.

In a panic I did awake finding that
this scary dream world was indeed all fake,
a nightmare of fearful unconscious thinking.
My electric clock was still churning,
It's music alarm blaring,
birds outside still singing,
my cell phone started ringing,
it was merely another Robot call,
Welcoming me back to the 21 century.
Imagine if you can some man made device or solar flare
knocking out all the satellites in space and computers on
earth, then this nightmare is not so far-fetched.
I actually did have this unsettling dream. The possibility
of this reality does indeed exist.
Words and images
Of hate and despair.
Concrete walls
And iron bars.
Divisions of the soul.
Loathing, ceaseless strife.
Happiness vanishing
Within the night.
Masses herded.
Shivering in lonely seasons.
Unprepared, pretentious
Mongers of greed.
A small plant
Bending towards sunlight
While trampled
Under foot.
Insane, mundane
Theoretical disadvantages.
The universe has no use
For the virus of
The Human Race.
******* dry and
Leaving empty.
Necessities unreplenished.
The moon
History of the last
Failed experiment.
Future doomed
Of history's repent.
Repetitious reinventions
Gone with the limbs of
The serpent.
Contagious, voracious
Blissful ignorance.
Blinded, blurred
Worth of self.
Dependently independent.
Unable to close the gap
Between tomorrow and
The now.
Following too closely
In the wake of
Destruction.
Abandoned,
Unable to change course.
Eternal frailty.
Impregnated with
Foreign thoughts
And foreign words.
Somewhere lost in
The granules of time.
Wrapped up in the eternity
Of my own mind.
Irene S May 2010
understand,
(I think you do)
that i need
so thoroughly
dependently
irreconcilably so.
A mind like yours
compliments
and mind like mine
so completely
interchangeably
undeniably so,
that when these
components
combine it
creates
symphony that
can only
crest to
cacophony.
It seems my body succumbed to all these feelings,
Helpless but breathing.
I shake and **** -
Made everyone confused,
Then I struggled to reach,
Not even able to get a drink.
What they said was seizures.

Seizures usually stop though:
It's day 34 now.
Next I wasn't able to walk,
Do you know what it feels like
For your body to just give up?
Collapsing is now regular,
Sometimes my whole body won't move
And currently as I write this,
Sitting up is a joke too.

Psychological seizures -
Last longer than usual
Yet can mimic epilepsy.
All the tests back normal,
Except from the ones which take weeks.
In my head, really?
That's basically what they said.

Now at a specialist talking therapy session,
For 'exactly what I have'
They told me:
You can't separate the mind and body.
The thing I like that they said most
Is that the physical symptoms are real,
That I'm NOT making them up.

However, I still don't appreciate when they tell me "this is good".
You see, they act like because it's not caused physiologically:
It's much easier to fix.
At the hospital: "I'm confident this will just stop
And probably won't come back."
Here I am still counting days,
I was in hospital for 3,
The 34 does not include the first week of milder ones,
One month till my exams
And actually it's just under that,
I count the minutes I can attempt to revise for.
I recognise the month I missed when I finally became productive,
Now I don't have a choice.
The teachers compliment how well I'm doing,
But they don't see me
Lying on the floor at home,
Pushing and willing my muscles to set me back up,
Whilst going
Absolutely nowhere.

My great Granny is way more capable than me.
Do you understand how embarrassing and berating it is,
When the paramedics come for the second time within a week or two,
Just to tell you quite simply:
"There is nothing medically wrong with you"?
"You're breathing is perfect,
Oxygen 100%"
"Does she have social anxiety"
-One of the first things that he said.
Can you guess how many anxiety attacks I've had?
Enough to be sure I'd recognise them by now.
"I wasn't anxious" I told them,
Desperate to be heard,
But as soon as they know about your mental health,
Nothing ever matters.

It's true that you take independence for granted,
Until it's taken away from you.
I don't think I've ever wanted to leave the house so much,
Than when I physically couldn't exit for
Just about a month.
I don't like burdening my family and friends,
It doesn't matter how they assure me
Either way I'm still dependently relying on them.

Although this does have one benefit
And some of it does make sense;
There are things I haven't been wanting to do,
By this it means that I can't do them.
Putting this open and honestly:
It's a potential get out of jail free card.
This way not doing it wouldn't be my fault,
Because I am physically unable.
That makes sense that it's psychological.
Another thing I tried to disprove it with was that,
"I've been better lately"
Which yesterday I finally got that explained,
The symptoms come on when you're relaxed,
As they are finally given the chance.
My body's saying no,
And sometimes I partly agree.

What doesn't help me is the:
"Therapy is how we treat this"
"It's good you don't have a physical cause."
Right, yeah, okay then.
So look me in the eye again
And tell me that it's fine.
Tell me how I recover from this debilitating illness
By doing what I've been doing for two years,
If that was going to work surely it would have been prevented?
People with a physical diagnosis receive physical help.
But what about me,
Do I just fall through the system's gap?
What happens when I can't walk,
When I fall off my bed from lying flat?
If I had a broken leg they'd give me crutches,
I get an "it will go away soon but it's impossible for us to say when".

If there's anything you take away from this,
Then it should be that:
One. It isn't just in my head.
Two. I am not in control of what's happening.
Three. It may be a conversion disorder but it's no less real.
Four. The last point states the fact that it causes PHYSICAL symptoms.

If I want to tell the whole truth then I have:
Non-Epileptic Attack Disorder,
A movement disorder causing seizures often looking like epileptic fits.
The truth I will give (probably) most people:
I have seizures which are not caused by epilepsy,
Which makes me shake and collapse
And if I'm feeling generous I might add another symptom on,
Because the longer this has lasted,
The more there are that come.
Emma Chatterton Dec 2012
I never quite understood how it would be to yearn for someone until the cruel distance snatched you from my very arms.
Nights seem darker than they once were and the loneliness was unmercifully relentless. The absence of your presence made my every waking moment a battle which I pray to survive from.

I never quite understood the meaning of the word miss until your presence feels almost lost in the thin and hot air of my everyday.

I never quite knew or thought I would ever understand the meaning of complete until you left us for what was promised momentarily. I despise each breath I inhale without you being there breathing the same air.
I loathe distance for it has the power to take my very being and question its vitality.
I hate time for never giving me enough of it for the times you were there next to me and for torturing me with too much of it for each second that I am without you.

I never quite understood the meaning of you; until you took my cocoon I so dependently attached myself to. And left me without you, which almost seems like depriving a human being without the gift of life itself.

All I understand now is the meaning of wait. Which is all I know to do and will forever do, for you.
See
I breathe
with hands pushing
inside of my chest
independent,
dependently.
y(our) kiss,
crush
I smile (lie)
fighting
crying
you (willdonotwillnot) see
sweat
I am fighting
flying
arms breaking
broken (a token)
It is all.
Butch Decatoria Aug 2016
How will you know when to be ready
To let go of ties that bind and Times so heavy,
Yet detached in all such earthly co-dependently
Stuck to wars, family, life of need & plenty empty.

How will you control the fear of never / knowing?

How will you understand or find morning's gate?
So quick and cruel to hurt all others with a weight
Of guilt and self deluded conditioned mind full o'hate
And a confusion that is ignored, all truth shoved away ...

When do you let the chains un-link, if not today?

Who will you picture with your last breath
The ones who wronged you, losses, and fights?
Yourself screaming in the hollow of loud regret?
Time is magic and brief - a blink of light

Who will champion you beyond dark night?

What is waiting - pain? or nothing at all?
Does not knowing amplify the dreadful waiting
Did you do enough good to balance your complaining?
Are you ready--wreck every wall you've made tall...

Have no fear, for what is darkness but life gone blind?

Who did you love and hold up high, when high?
What did you witness in all the world's sights?
Are you ready for the final night
Fateful destined heavenly flight...

When you're ready. The fear turns white.

— The End —