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vulnerable.

is the current status.

not a favourite thing of mine; of anyones really, if i had to think hard about it. but when one is feeling vulnerable, what do they do?

my old go-to, is numb.

numb can come in a variety of packages, usually labelled “don’t take with alcohol” … but when you’re trying to be more than just numb, ‘feeling that shit’ takes a bit of getting used too.

i’m trying to breathe deep. i’m listening & semi-watching d’angelo’s 2015 live jazz festival routine. it’s all kinda working … but not as fast as drugs do.

why the vulnerability?

we went and viewed a house this morning. it’s lovely. and now i’m waiting to see whether we apply for it or not.

what’s the problem?

simplified: it’s not my decision.

which, in a nut-shell, means i am hanging around waiting for someone else to decide my ‘fate’, again.

this is not a new phenomenon. it’s my life post diagnosis & post losing my income. technically speaking, i should be homeless. but i have a partner. a partner who has an income. which, is more than some people have.

but i don’t have any say in the finances, which is new for me. i also don’t spend any money. other than my breakfast cereal and tampons, i don’t ask for anything else. maybe its pride, maybe its cos i don’t want to be a burden, maybe its because i can’t stretch my brain that far. whatever it is, this is the way it is.

so when we have big ‘changes’ come up, i feel like i am sitting in a small dingy with no available oars, waiting for the ‘oar – owner’ to put the dam things in the water and paddle.

i can advise. i can suggest. i can even scream. but at the end of the day, they’re not my oars, i am a ‘guest’ in the dingy & where the fuck else am i supposed to go?

this is why i’ve been pushing so hard (well sort of) to get my pending income sorted. again, its up to someone else.

i’ve learnt over the years that just because someone else has seeming control of my environment, does not mean they have complete control over me. i could decide to be homeless. huh.  that has a nice ring to it ay : homeless by choice!

but instead i remain here, trying to cohabitate with someone who has completely different ideas and ways of being than i do. someone who has resources at their disposal and chooses to do some pretty outrageous shit with said resources.

anyway, i don’t like feeling vulnerable & i’m going to have to work on my state of mind before it eats me up. for now though …

well, for now, i wait.


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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pts(d), on a budget.

an open letter to Me: backdated 8ish years –

dear me: you are going to have to do pts(d) on a very fucking tight budget aight. but we got this!


wtf? i hear you say.

let me explain.

yes: you should be able to have this ‘mental illness’ & the resources to access a wide range of research, opinions, trials, medication, tips, adjustments, care, counselling, psychologists, physical health check ups etc etc. it ‘should’ be a. easy to find and b. free or low cost.

but it won’t be.

and this is tip number 1:

expect absolutely nothing for free, including advise, from any healthcare provider, post-diagnosis.

which runs into tip number 2:

expect absolutely nothing that will ‘benefit’ your long term self-management.

once you fully understand the following statement, it’ll make your future ‘shopping’ for pts(d) care, a lot simpler.

the idea is to make you dependent, and broke. the idea is Not to assist in making you well.

got that?

.

so, after the diagnosis is done and you’re floundering around wondering “what the actual fuck dude … does this mean i’m nuts or what?”; the simple answer is, Yes.

but as you try to get some assistance with understanding what the fuck has just transpired, you will be met with lengthy phone calls, meetings that aren’t available for months, people that aren’t ‘qualified’ but still charge a surcharge for consultation, professionals who have waiting lists but are able to ‘fit you in’ if you are willing to pay the ‘full-price’ (and fyi: this is where you will learn there are ‘scales’ of prices … IKR!) … you’ll also get met with paper work for days and prescriptions to ‘trial’ ‘for free’, but you still won’t get a straight answer to the question: “what does it mean … i have pts(d)?”

the simple solution to all this fuckery, is cheap.

you need to google it.

research it online – @ the library (free); @ a friends house … use the free Wifi @ your local supermarket … whatever it takes. and keep googling until you have a tonne of ‘advice’ you can feel semi-satisfied with.

take that shit home and sift through it. fyi … it’ll take ages, but thats ok.

don’t make appointments, take the drugs, give up the food or the alcohol or anything else, until you’ve done the research and understand what the fuck is going on.

as over simplified as that may sound, just know, that you will spend in excess of 5 years waiting for said diagnosis, trialing medications and waiting for explanations all because you had no fucking google.

Just Saying.

next: once you have a clear understanding of what you are dealing with, know that this is going to change. thats right. it’ll change. so expect no continuity or structure. you can burn that shit with the pts(d) manual you downloaded.

i’m saying this now, because if you drop the expectations for ‘recovery’ you have nothing to live up to and you have solved half if not 3/4 of your fucking ‘issue’. you’ve also weeded out the need for lengthy and costly therapy sessions and psychologist sessions. just roll with it. all of it. it’s a hell ride, but you been there and done that before, & this is a piece of piss in comparison …

next: beg, borrow or steal access to a computer and / or phone and an internet connection & you can access self help blog sites, reading material of people that have utilised nature, animals, friends etc to help them self manage. try it all. read it all. find what works for you.

next: sit in the sun. sleep in the sun. block your ears, cover your eyes and soak up the warmth. no sun? find your happiest spot with your warmest blanket and do the same. & music; lots & lots of music. when the wifi runs out ..  sing :) or just hum. as weird as that sounds and as freaked out as you might be @ first, the objective isn’t to join the local fucking choir … the objective is to a. give yourself a voice, b. change the vibration in your body and c. soothe yah.

next: nightmares, flashbacks, smells, sounds … all bitches.

take the sleep drugs. you need to sleep, relax & catchup on sleeping & relaxing. the objective here is to find your new normal. what you can live with and what you can’t. you can’t do that stressing about fitting back into a ‘norm’ that doesn’t work for you.

& last but not least: you will wait for over 8 years for an income & during that time you won’t buy clothes or food or go shopping or compare internet prices. you won’t write a wishlist for christmas or birthdays or go out for coffee or dinner. you will lose your triple A credit rating and all your financial ‘vices’; your perceived independence will go up in flames as will your access to perceived freedoms.

but guess what. you won’t need any of that because your going to fucked to care.

this is the beginning of the end for you.

this is where we find out what the fuck you are really made of.

because you will eventually see that all the shit you thought was important, isn’t. all the shit that you thought you needed, you didn’t. all the shit you thought you couldn’t live without, including your ‘independence’ & ‘freedom’, you can. you’ll learn that money, like a career, is nothing but numbers & paper & won’t buy you family or time. you’ll learn a house is nothing more than space with walls & is serving you well if it keeps you dry & warm. you’ll learn that your voice is louder than you thought & scarier than you thought; that it’s fierce & fiery as well as dark & deep as well as low & loving. you’ll learn that pts(d) is nothing but letters & you were what you were long before some cunt strung those letters together to try & limit you with a diagnosis.

and most importantly, you will learn that your place in this world is exactly where you are now. & if you stop struggling with it all, you’ll realise you are perfect, just the way you are.

& that my compadre, is how you’re going to do pts(d).


ps: breath bitch ;)


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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is it just me …

or are there white people everywhere?

on every channel i switch too?

on every movie i pick to watch?

they’re every fucking where.

so guess what …

i decided i aint watching anything now that isn’t At Least a 50/50 split of white & POC.

why?

cos i’m sick of seeing peeps that i don’t look like.

i want my mokos to see they are not the minority here.

#JS



photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

reconciling the hormones #84

it feels like my uterus is making its way up my spine, then

decides against that,

turns round & heads back toward my asshole.

just to linger there, pulsating,

& torturing my insides with contraction like pains.

great.

i was looking forward to this bastard showing up.


not.


kpm©


 

humble?

apparently,

i should show abit more ‘humble-ness’:

says the cunt who steals ideas

that aint his own.

so fuck that & fuck him.

don’t dim my motherfucking light!


kpm©


 

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phase 2 – and its raining :)

its been a tentative couple days and now i’m an hour and a half away from the exhibition … eeeekkkkk lol.

i’m managing my nerves … just.

i am rolling with it all; as much as i can. cos whats the worst that can happen ay? i can pass out? throw up … both …

oh well lol.

and then the goddesses must’a heard my mumblings … and she sent rain … my beautiful calming rain <3


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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art installation: phase 1, complete-ish

installation is semi-complete …

and i did fucking awesome i must say.

i did new faces and smells and spaces and sounds.

i did negotiations and staircases and heights – eeeekkkk.

i pretty proud of me right now.

and i’m happily fucking tired.


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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dinner time?

did i tell yah, we had dinner at my beach?

and it was cloudy A.F?

just the way i like it?

had bacon & eggs btw,

i know, i know.


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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oh yeah. PSA:

public service announcement:

there’ll be a few random acts of poor-posting.

soz but not soz.

i am evolving.

or devolving.

what the fuck ever.

#yourwelcome


kpm©


photography & art @kpm-artist 


 

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scary canary …

so, apopo (tomorrow) i go in and do my art installation and im nervous – fucking nervous – but different nervous. lol.

i think cos this year i’m focused on different things / goals, and am more ‘present’, the ‘feelings’ are hell’ah different. thats it in a very small nutshell … and no doubt as i unravel this part of my shizz, i’ll repeat my angst and toss it over and re analyze and regurgitate and throw it out …. on and on, until i get some peace with it all.

its not bad though. thats what i can ‘feel’ this time. that its not bad. and i’m not ‘scared’, like scared shitless … i’m just nervous of the unknown but excited as well … of the unknown!

now how fucken cool is that!! it’s all progress!!

so, be prepared for more random updates and random pictures and random unidentified feelings as i roll on to the exhibiton on friday …

:)

love & gangstah light <3


photography & art @kpm-artist