So I was pondering in the shower the other morning.

The concept of perception.

I have been told over and over again that “That how I see any given situation is my Perception.”

OK, that is a true statement.

However, given that I have a Mental Illness what happens to my perception?

I know that there are times when the chaos in my brain can play tricks on my perception.

But I have spent the last years working with skills I have learned to calm the chaos.

Then I thought that I am told how good I am doing. Yeah me!

But then I don’t agree with someone else’s perception of a situation. OOOOO NOOOOO!

So then I am seen as the one with the flawed perception.

How is it that someone can see my improvement, know I am working hard to overcome the obstacles that I struggle with as symptoms of the Mental Illness, and I am doing so good, but my perception of any given situation is WRONG? “That is my perception.”

How does this work?

I am not allowed my own opinion, I am not supposed to express the feelings I have about a situation in my past that may be a “brick wall” I am trying to break down?

Because I see what happened in my past differently then another person may see it means because I am the one with “THE PROBLEM” I am the one that has the skewed perception?

I know I was taught to express myself factually, just use the facts of a situation and use I statements. OK, did that, but still after a logical, factual expression of the situation……


Yes it is, but that is what happened!

So if it is my perception, and my perception is skewed, so really I am not truly able to perceive correctly, but your perception of the situation is different then mine, but you don’t have a skewed perception, but that is not really happened. How is my perception wrong?

I feel as though I will never be seen as any more than a mental illness. That because I may not agree with the perception of others, I will be always seen as having the inability to interpret a situation clearly or be seen as having a skewed perception even if I know that my mind is clear.

Who makes the rules?

How long is the re-perception reload take?

Does it come with a user’s manual?

Can I find a YouTube video?

I don’t get it, am I just destined to be locked in the “Mental Illness” universe forever???????


By the way, If someone, anyone tells me “that is my perception!” I will truly have a earthquake of perception. FUCK!

Lunatic Fringe Forever……………….

I Miss You

There are people in our lives that are special. They have touched our hearts, our minds, they have let us cry or scream, they have sat with us in our quiet times and laughed with us. Then they are gone. Taken to a “better” place. Or have moved away. Or they have betrayed us. But deep inside they are missed. They took root in our hearts and in our minds. There is no way to turn that off.

I miss my grandmother, she died in 1993. She was my protector, my shelter, my Gram! She always knew what to say to me and she never walked away from me even when I was in my darkest days. She was my warm hugs, my put my head on her lap crying while she rubbed my hair. She never judged me and gave me so much love. And now when I need her the most she is gone. I still talk to her, I wake up every morning to her picture on my vanity. We are smiling and I remember when that picture was taken. I was living in a homeless shelter with my son because I had gotten away from an abusive man. Gram stood by me and always loved me. I miss you.

I have kept phone numbers of people I have lost. In fact, my sweet Sr. Mark passed away last year and I still have her contact information in my phone. I know it is silly, but I CAN’T delete it. I miss her. She was my “Red Phone” to God. If I needed prayers for anything she had me covered. Sr. Mark was my dear friend and became another person I knew I could depend on when I needed someone to listen. She was tough and she never let me get away with anything. I remember admitting to her that I was suicidal and had gone to the hospital because I harmed myself. I think that was the first time I have ever seen her cry. That was the worst feeling ever knowing I disappointed her. But she gave me a stern talking to and made me promise to do better. I told her I would try and I did. It killed me that I was not able to see her before she died because of this fucking pandemic. I had not spoken to her in several months because she was not able to answer my calls. I had to watch the funeral on live stream on the computer. All I really wanted was to hug her one more time. I miss you…..

I am so angry, mad, God has been taking “My” people. I know that is silly, but it is painful. Now I have to face that another of my friends, my other mother, mom is dying. She is on hospice because of an infection in her colon that can not be fixed. I have called for updates and she is being medicated for the pain so she is comfortable. I am not even sure she is coherent. I am going to try and visit with her. The one thing we agreed on is that I will take care of her hair after she dies. That will be my gift to her. Mom is someone I would get to see every three weeks for a haircut and a hug. She was like my grandmother in that she never judged me and always had loving words for me. She listened and loved me unconditionally. Now I have to watch her die. My heart is breaking and I know that I will miss her. Horribly.

This one is my own mother. She is alive, living with my sister. For the most part she is healthy and probably has a lot of life left. However, we are not speaking to each other because I gave her an ultimatum. The story is that my children have rejected me completely, not wanting anything to do with me. I received a letter from my son and oldest daughter that stated it. My husband said it sounded like something you would receive from a lawyer the way it was written. Well I was hysterical and heart broken. I text my family and said it was me or them. If anyone wanted to have me in their lives they would have to stop talking to my children. Well that went over like a lead balloon with my mother. So when we spoke on the phone, she said “how dare I make her choose!” And I am not sure what else was said except me telling her that it was bullshit her continuing to defend my children and if she wasn’t going to support me then “Fuck you!” and i hung up the phone.

My relationship with my mother has always been very close and I miss her. We spoke on the phone every day and talked about nothing. I checked on her, knowing she and I share the fact that we have fibromyalgia. And not just that I would check on her because she is 84 years old.

I miss her, I had some really good things happening in my life and I wanted to share the news, but we are not speaking. I miss you. I am hurt that you continue to support the kids as they abuse me. It may not be a physical abuse, but the rejection and the fact that they blame me for their “Bad childhood?” not even truly sure what they are talking about, my mother says she wants to keep the lines of communication open. Fuck that…..Not one person in my family challenges my children’s behavior toward me, in fact I have been told that my children still want their mother, I just need to be more empathetic to them. Fuck that too….I am their mother and that’s what throws me. If I treated my mother similarly I would be called on the carpet for it.

But I miss her, I miss you Mom! Why can’t you understand how I feel? Why can’t someone in my family stand up for me? I am not the same person!

I miss my children……I miss you….

I miss you………….

Lunatic Fringe Forever…………..


This is defined as: bitter “indignation” at having been treated unfairly.

Indignation is defined as: anger or annoyance provoked by what is “perceived” as being treated unfairly.

Resentment is also seen as a “negative emotional” reaction to being mistreated. It is a choice; for example, holding a grudge. It also doesn’t go away on it’s own, there has to be some kind of resolution or meeting of the minds over what the problem may be.

So I’m pissed off because I have been treated unfairly, but I will never have any type of resolution or just a basic acknowledgement for my “negative emotional reaction to being treated unfairly,” because not one person that I have these negative emotional reactions about even will listen so I can calmly let out how I feel.

Oh I tried! At first I was trying to just factually explain the examples of times that I was treated unfairly and the conversation turned into me “attacking” “blaming” and “persecuting” the “other” person I was speaking to. (Names will be excluded to protect the innocent and or the guilty).

I can’t throw anyone under the bus anymore because I do not want to offend or in this case make it any worse than it already is. And trust when I say this, I want to SCREAM because I am truly tired of the “people” in my life saying they see my improvements, how much better I am after all the mental, emotional roller coaster I have been on and proud they are that I have worked so hard at keeping myself “normal.” Whatever, I am a crazy person, living with a mental illness using skills I learned in my therapies to help me survive in this life. I am doing great, thank you.

However, even as many times I am told how great and that “they” see a change, the minute, second I have any ANY emotional response to ANY given situation that is not in the perimeters of “Normal” or “Healthy” response, well it’s back to “she is over dramatic, over the top, not taking her medicine. It is seen as my digression back to the sick girl I was long time ago.

How can I even get fair treatment if I am continually seen as “mental or over emotional?” So I resent it. Plain and simple, because I will never be seen as competent I will always be classed as Borderline Personality Disorder. Felicia has left the building and in her place is BPD. It will never go away. So the resolution to my resentment won’t happen because I will never get to speak my peace. It is because there is a preconception that I will be combative and confrontational. I may not be combative but I sure as hell am going to confrontational. Why should I not speak the I want and what I feel?

I hate double standards. OK, example, I received a letter once when I was living with an abusive man. The contents of the letter was an ultimatum. “Me or Him?” Well at the time I was at a point of no return because “He” would threaten to hurt my son or my mother if I tried to leave him. I couldn’t tell anybody and I was scared. This example is an extreme. Well I gave the “person” who sent me that letter a similar ultimatum, “ME or Them.” however, the response I got was “how dare you make me choose!!!!!! That is so unfair!!!!! I love you both!!!! blah blah blah!!!!!!”

The issue around the ultimatum I gave was similar in that I am being abused by “something,’ and the “person” I gave the ultimatum to states that they don’t want to close off any communication with the “something.” My response was that if you are communicating with the “something” then you are enforcing and supporting the abuse. I feel I made a logical and rational assessment to the situation, but it was seen as a personal attack and I was told that if I was going to “use the person as a whipping post” the conversation was over. WOW!

I know this is so vague, but I can’t truly explain it because really the situation is so ugly and I have not spoken to the “person” for several weeks. The crazy thing is my husband is defending me and says that he cannot believe what the “person” is thinking. If nothing else my husband and I are now in a real good place. (Silver Lining).

I started talking about resentment and I hope I showed an example of how I am being treated unfairly. I DON’T want to be resentful. I want to resolve this, but I don’t believe I will ever be more than Borderline Personality Disorder to “people” I need to resolve these issues with and that is the sad situation. I’m mad, no I’m PISSED, I’m angry, I’m HURT. I feel betrayed and I deserve to be heard. That’s all, being heard!!! So what if I raise my voice, so what if my words are offensive and may even be unkind. This hurt has been around for a long time. There is nothing FAIR about being treated unfairly and take “your” that’s your perception shit and go smoke it. That is not what I wanted to say but I don’t want to be uglier.

I try really hard to give people the benefit if the doubt, so in this case I was hoping that I would get the same consideration because “they” know me. I was hoping for an open dialog expressing my true feelings in a neutral setting so that “no one” would feel it was a personal attack. Well that is where I am, I made an attempt to explain the way I feel and it was taken as a personal attack. Sorry about your misconception.

Resentment, indignation, anger, annoyance, provoked, perceived, Negative Emotional Reaction, Holding a Grudge……….. How about I feel that “I” am not treated the way others are treated and not in a good way. Or What is good for the goose most definitely is not good for the gander. Perception is the key, I say it is the actions of another witnessed to the treatment of others differently. The blatant favoring of one over another or doing something in regards of someone else but not giving that same regards to another. Why would anybody ever feel resentment if it was equal across the board? I have not experienced “Equality.”

Lunatic Fringe Forever…………


A feeling of anger or displeasure about someone or something unfair.

This is a feeling I am learning how to “handle.” It pisses me off that people can misjudge me and know I am working diligently to make myself a better person. It sits in the pit of my stomach and just eats it way through my body. It feels like a fireball moving through me. I want to scream at the top of my lungs. “I’m Better, I’m doing the work to improve my thoughts, I am trying!” Is it good enough? Who do I have to impress? It is not fair to be made to feel that I am the same person I was before therapy. Before I………?

Stress, anger, depression, sadness, those are easier now to control. Resentment, fuck that! It takes a hold and stays. I have been told that “It is only my perception” of a situation and there may be another way of looking at things. OK, tell how to feel when you know in your heart you are being treated unfairly, that the treatment of all who are involved in a situation is equal across the board. No one can tell me that “people” are that self-aware that they treat everyone the same. I don’t even do that and I know that I try.

Then when I want to address my feelings, there are “ground rules” that I have to follow so no one feels attacked. I feel attacked, I feel that I was unfairly treated, why do I have to be nice? I am a honest person and I am confrontational, sure, but this is an injustice I feel needs to be discussed even if I have to hurt someone’s feelings. My feelings are hurt. I know I will be told that “it was not intentional” on the part of the other people involved to hurt my feelings. Well it did and I need to let them know that what was said and what was done was hurtful and unfair.

The bottom line here is that I have a mental illness. That is the “reason” my perceptions are wrong. (Sarcasm!) I know that I don’t think clearly sometimes, but wrong is wrong and my mental illness is no reason to devalue my feelings. I know I am not perfect and God knows that I am trying my best to take care of myself. The problem is that I have had to repress my feelings so that “others” are not offended or hurt. Isn’t that a 2 way street? Just because I am diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder means that I will not receive the same consideration as the next person?

There have been moments in my life when situations have happened that I have addressed the unfairness, but I was angry and enraged that my emotions got the best of me and I was unable to express myself clearly. So now that I want to deal with the issues I have to “play nice.” FINE! All I want is the same consideration when it comes to my feelings. These issues are not pretty and they even may be petty, but they are mine and they are making me sick.

The poem, LISTEN, that I shared was a way I could express the feeling. I just want to be heard and respected. My illness is not ME! There is a human inside this body that has real, true feelings. I may not always be able to express myself “appropriately,” but that doesn’t mean someone can judge me. (Because of my illness and my past behavior!) There is a difference in drudging up the past and needing to resolve my resentment. The past is the past, but the resentment lingers.

There are tooooooooooo many situations that have been swept away under the rug and now they are coming to the surface. I am distracted by the sickness. I want to release this shit and move on. I want to be heard and respected.

I’m screaming, can you hear me!!!!!

Lunatic Fringe Forever……………..


I’m screaming without sound

I’m suffering with a smile on my face

I’m crying without a tear found

I’m screaming can you hear me

Can you see the pain

The tear you will never see

There is a time bomb inside

An explosion even as you are by my side

To explain I am unable

To let you know is an open I can’t do

To make you understand I am incapable

I’m screaming

Can you hear me……

Being Ready

I’m visiting with the funeral director today to talk about burial plans. I’m not dying, I am preparing “in case” of my death so that my family is not burden with the cost. A few weeks ago I spoke to an insurance person to talk about this and then agreed to get a policy. Cancelled that already. I am 56 years old and if I live 30ish more years I would have paid close to $20,000 for a plan that only pays $5000 toward my funeral. In the town my husband and I live in we could buy a house with $20,000. It would be a fixer-upper, but still! So off to the undertaker we go.

I am realizing how getting older makes me start thinking about my possible “futures.” I could live to be over 100, that would piss off my kids, I could die young like my dad who was 60, he had a heart attack, my mother’s side of the family has a history of cancer, and/or I could die of a broken heart like my Dad’s dad after my grandmother died suddenly. Ultimately, I have cursed my children with living until I am 400 years old just because I am spiteful like that. I know either or anyway I will haunt some people just for shits and giggles.

I know this is a topic that is rarely talked about because “we” as a culture see death as taboo. I attempt to have this conversation with my husband and he “doesn’t” want to talk about it. Well if he lives longer than me and there is an issue about end of life, he is not going to like my decisions. I know in my heart I don’t ever want “extreme measures” to keep me alive. No machines! No chemo, no radiation, no recitation. Unless the doctor can “Guarantee” I walk out of the hospital with all my mind sharp and my body functioning like it is suppose to, fuck you let me go!!!!

Then there is the issue of a “funeral.” I don’t want one, but my sacred mother says it is not for me, it is for my loved ones. NO! I won’t be there so why have an unneeded expense. I say grab some Champaign and go celebrate. I am outta here and no one has to worry about me anymore. I don’t see death as an ending because there is something better after this and if I am wrong so what! I am planning on being cremated and put in the ground and have a tree planted in that spot. SIMPLE!!!!! No one doesn’t even need to put a plaque or any type of marker that indicates that’s where my ashes are because I AM NOT THERE!!!!

Just got the call that confirms the appointment with the funeral director, as I am writing this. How very ironic. I do not believe in coincidences. You know, I am one of “those” people that believe that everything happens for a reason. In fact, this was a twilight show moment honestly. Dodo dodo.

Being ready really in my mind was going to be more about the need to be prepared for whatever may happen, but it has turned into me knowing that I truly know how I want to live and how I want to die. How I want to be let go. I want to make my own decisions now before I may not be able to, then the burden is placed in the hands of someone else who might make the wrong decision. Death is not scary, it is the thought of prolonged suffering that scares me. Not my own, but the people who love me. Let me die the way I want and you will never have that decision to make.

Lunatic Fringe Forever……….

My Place

My place is far away and cannot be reached by anyone but me. There are no people, no drama, it is quiet and perfect. Mainly because it is not real. In my imagination, when I close my eyes I see green as a forest in the Spring. Green as an overgrown jungle with vines growing up along the trees. My place is beautiful, full of green grass and trees the touch the sky. It is plush and soft, you could fall into the grass and sleep like a baby. The green goes for miles and miles.

My place has crystal streams that flow with such gracefulness it is like watching a ballerina. In my place there are four streams that flow into an aquamarine colored lake. The movement of the lake comes from streams flowing into it. However the lake is mysterious, it is calm. A calm where the surface of the water looks as of it never moves. The colors around the lake are reds, yellows and oranges from the flowers that grow along the banks of the lake. Beautiful roses, sunflowers and crocuses. The blooms of the flowers are so big their aroma fills the whole space. The flowers never die and reproduce themselves and the older flowers fade away.

My place is blue, royal blue of the proud sky. Proud because it stands out, the blue is mesmerizing, vibrant and clear. It wraps my place with warmth from the sun sitting in the sky and at night the moon shines along with so many stars you barely see the dark. Each sunrise and sunset is unique, the colors change and the cloud formations explode in fluff. Billowing clouds, looking as if they are coming to life. The stars in the night sky dance with joy. The moon is always full and shines its glow over the green, casting shadows of mystery.

This is my place, a place of solitude and peace. I am the only one who can get there and I go there to recharge so that I will renew the peace in my heart, mind and body. I wish I could take you with me.

Lunatic Fringe Forever…

Who am I?

I have a husband, am I a wife?

I have 3 children, am I a mother?

My mother is still alive, am I a daughter?

I have 2 sisters and 3 brothers, am I a sister?

I have numerous nieces and nephews, am I an aunt?

I have live 56 years, am I old?

I have lots of friends, am I a friend?

Who am I?

I have lost, I have loved, I have fallen and I got back up,

Am I strong?

I am lost in a empty space, my heart beats, my lungs fill with air.

I feel nothing. Or maybe I feel too much?

Do I care?

There is skin on my bones, I can see, hear, taste, touch and feel, but “nothing.”



There is no direction, no rules, no path, no expectation.

A void taking up space, an empty shell that breathes.

Who am I?

Lunatic Fringe Forever….


There is a common thread between all of us.

There are paths in our lives which each are given to take.

The paths begin our journeys of the unknown.

I came to a path in my life,

there was a fork, a spoon and a knife.

Down to the fork two paths,

one to the left and one to the right.

How do I choose, which is my way,

Do I choose left or do I choose right?

Down the spoon only one path,

It ends in a giant circle.

Do I go round and round,

Repeating everything that has kept me bound?

Down the knife path,

One straight road.

I can see no obstacles or curves,

no changes or swerves.

How do I choose?

Why would I choose?

Is my journey two paths, one path revolving on to itself or do I choose the straight path?

Paths are not singular or revolving or straight,

Paths create.

Paths update.

Paths penetrate.

Paths translate, inflate, conjugate, collaborate, and integrate.

Now it’s up to you and me to figure out how to motivate.

Lunatic Fringe Forever!!!!!

Pity Party

You know that feeling that the world is caving in on you? Well it may not be the world, but it is a big hill. I had been rear ended in 2016 and in the accident I tore my meniscus in my left Knee. Just some background. Anyway, the other day I was really energetic so I thought I would clean. All good until I got on the floor to do something and when I started to get off the floor my knee made a unfamiliar sound and I screamed in pain. The swelling has gone down, but the pain is a bitch and I have to use my cane to walk most of the time. It sucks.

Which leads me to my pity party. I hate pain, it interferes with what I want to do and it makes things 100 times harder. I am depressed. I feel like a failure. I am stupid(for getting on the floor in the first place). I know better. I can’t do anything right. My kids still haven’t talked to me, but I had conversation with my “GURU” brother. He told me that if I just “OWN” the trauma I caused my children while they were growing up maybe that is all they want. If I wasn’t as healthy as I am now I know my head would be spinning and I would be projectile vomiting unkind words at my brother and don’t think I didn’t want to because I was biting my tongue.

Own what I did, FUCK YOU! I am their mother and I did the best I could in the situation I was dealing with. Yes, they didn’t ask to be here, well they were and I tried. Enough of this, I am feeling sorry for myself and not in the mood to consider anyone else’s feelings. But in my children’s eyes I am a BADDDDDD mother. An absent mother. You have to know the whole story and I am trying to get the courage up to put that in writing. I think I have given some blog time to that subject, but hitting the deep story is too painful to face right now. So there!

Secondly, I have Fibromyalgia and I am in chronic pain every day of my life which adds insult to injury. Being careful and cautious when my whole life has been working hard and being organized. I’m tired all the time and doing anything takes twice as long. I have gotten used to taking a week to complete a task that took me a day to do before. My brain says “Let’s do this” and my body says “Fuck you!” When did I get old, when did my body start working against me? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!

I could go on complaining, but where does that get me? I hate complaining because it makes me feel worse and it is “Counter-Productive” I hate that too. Big eye roll! I know every arm chair psychologist will tell me that it is “hate speech” and I need to re-enforce the good things I do so that I can be in a positive state of mind.”OH JOY.” It is better for your all around health. Yeah, well not today Bucko! I am a poor excuse for a human being and I will be happy tomorrow or the next day. I have had enough of “Happy” people, don’t cheer me up. Now I have a headache, shit. Just another wonderful thing to add to the list.

*Disclaimer: Yes I feel these things, but I only give myself 24 hours to feel sorry for myself and then it is back to business. I know that I have bad days and everyone has them, it is just how you choose to deal with the issues. I don’t say “problem” too much any more because not all things are problems they are challenges. I believe that this is my challenge and I have to face it and deal with it, fix it if I can. And maybe, I don’t give a fuck and the end.

Lunatic Fringe Forever………..