HAPPY 420 – 4/20 – FREE THE LEAF – LEGALIZE thee WEED NOW!!!

liberate marijuana
HAPPY 420 4/20 FREE THE LEAF LEGALIZE WEED NOW!!!
Post Created by Jennifer Kiley
Created on Sunday 20th April 2014 [420 - 4/20]
Posted on Sunday 4/20 402 20th April [4/2014]
FREE THE WEED DAY 420 – 4/20

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

I <3 WEED

marijuana political-pot-power 1

I <3 CANNABIS

beautiful marijuana bud

I <3 HASH

marijuana_leaf reiki

I <3 MARIJUANA

primo marijuana buds

I <3 MEDICAL MARIJUANA

marijuana-fist 1

MMJ <3 <3 <3

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bg

“Medical Marijuana and Bipolar Disorder”

The Young Woman brave enough to make this video. In honest self-disclosure, she goes through the fate of using “pharma” and its destructive capabilities vs. the use of MMJ Medical Marijuana and its redeeming qualities in treating Bipolar and other Health Issues. {I feel the same toward “psych pharma meds.” They were so destructive to my mind and body. Physical illnesses were a result of the variety of pills my ex-psychiatrists prescribed for me. Now I am Licensed to use MMJ & I am slowly feeling able to eat & actually feel hungry once I put the food in my mouth}.

[The Speaker on Video Wrote the following] thanks everyone for watching. I was inspired to put a more full version after I was included in a documentary that will come out in August. I was nervous during my interview during the documentary, wary on what to share and how to share it, but I truly believe in the movement and I hope my voice is heard!

If you can find the time to listen to what she has to say on this video, if you have Bipolar & feel you are feeling like you are not able to get your Bipolar to cooperate with you. Moods can turn you into a child having a tantrum & at other times, you have the feelings that you could accomplish anything. I try to keep my “Ego” under control & ignore sometimes. I have a Great Psychotherapist finally. She gets me & was monumental along with my Primary Care Doctor in bringing about my achievement of being able to LEGALLY light up & inhale MMJ.

It is far more intense & organic, so much more improved from what I smoked pre-college, during college, and after college. I was self-medicating without self-awareness that it was what I was doing. Everything was fine. Then I stopped smoking Weed. WHY? Haven’t a real clue on that one.

I then started being given prescriptions for any new anti-depressant which would cost a fortune. So for over a decade I consumed anti-depressants without mood stabilizers. [Mood Stabilizers are a must with Anti-Depressants or they can set off Bipolar Moods such as Depression or Mania, which eventually lead you to crashing from your manic high and falling into the pit of Hell with the Darkest Depression and the Heightened Mood of Feeling Suicidal.] It was bad enough the anti-depressants caused me to be depressed but I was feeling suicidal almost constantly.

They also forgot to tell me I had this brain misfiring problem called Bipolar, probably since I was a young kid. All the Bipolar evidence presented itself when I was a young child. I can see them all written in gold now. I was given my mental health chart by my psychotherapist. I asked her if I could see it. [I didn't know I could see my MH Chart any time]. The woman I am seeing now. We discovered together what my shrinks had been trying to hide from me all those many years of feeling suicidal & almost succeeding on several occasions.

The day I recieved the truth was on 4/20 three years ago exactly TODAY 4/20/14. And I started smoking MMJ on the 20th of December 2013. That would be 32 months from the day I discovered my diagnosis until I was able to light up my first bowl of Pure Sativa Afghan Kush Medical Marijuana LEGALLY. Prior to that evening, to LEGALLY PURCHASE Medical Marijuana that same day but in the later afternoon.

That evening was the first time I felt good in forever. Before I inhaled the MMJ, I felt awful. I had four surgeries in less than a year in 2013. I was sick to my stomach. I was in pain. I hadn’t been able to eat in a very long time. I had no appetite. Would forget to eat. I just didn’t think of food. The thought of food made me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t sleep. I was losing weight way too fast. I felt like I was dying & I do not exaggerate when I make that statement. “Miracle” Marijuana/Weed has saved my life.

I still have set backs & forget to smoke before I go to the kitchen. Entering our kitchen makes me feel extremely nauseous anytime I enter it unless I have smoked some MMJ. It is amazing what MMJ is doing for me. If you can’t smoke it, there are many ways to ingest the MMJ. Just ask your Doctor or contact your state government offices. Find out whether your location has access to Medical Marijuana that is LEGALLY okay to possess and smoke. Be sure to find out how much MMJ you are allowed to have in your possession at any given time & where you are permitted to smoke it. Right now the laws are pretty strict.

Hopefully, the laws will loosen up once Marijuana is closer to being completely LEGALIZED!!! —Jkm 2014 on 420 4/20

FREE THE LEAF – LEGALIZE MARIJUANA NOW!!! – CANNABIS WAS GIVEN TO US FREE IN NATURE TO HELP US HEAL!!!

Latest Entry for ‘the secret keeper’ page BIPOLAR & MEDICAL MARIJUANA MMJ – CLICK ON LINK

Private Writings: Chapters #57 — Whenever I Want You

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #57 – Whenever I Want You

Written by Jennifer Kiley
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 15th April 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
Not Suitable For Children.
All Characters Are Fictitious.
Anyone Resembling Anyone Living or Dead
Is Purely Coincidental.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell
psychoanalyst

I am the storyteller
using imagination fantasy feelings & thoughts
to discover self soul eternal serenity & bliss
but to most importantly
tell the best tale ever after upon a time

see you down the rabbit hole.

Private Writings: Chapter #57 — Whenever I Want You

[Madison's Fourth Week Being Held at Redcliff Psychiatric Institute After a Failed Suicide Attempt...]

Tuesday 7th October 2008

Dear Annie,

Writings from my own “A Writer’s Diary,” while I am inside Redcliff Psychiatric Institute. It is the best way to keep track of what is going on. I want evidence if they fuck me up more than I already am. So far they haven’t forced any pharma meds on me, and they won’t allow me access to my Medical Marijuana either, even though I am licensed to legally use it as a medication to treat health issues and as my psych meds. I stopped taking pharma except for Klonopin. Getting off of that feels almost as bad as I imagine stopping cold from heroin. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. My insides felt jumpy and nauseous. I was going from cold sweats to freezing than feeling like I couldn’t cool off. My mind was freaking me out. I finally told my doctor I needed to keep taking at least half of the dosage. It was feeling impossible to stop. Seems I am stuck with the Klonopin until my doc and I can figure out how to trick my system into thinking it is still receiving my drug of choice to killing myself.

Jamie, my sweet friend, with whom I am wickedly crushing on, saved my life. Not so sure I’ve decided yet to thank her. Jamie blew my mind when she played Carter McLeod in my recent screenwriting success in “Brief Sacrifice.” She was excellent. Scottie told me the gross at present is well over $45,000,000. We made it for $17,500,000, rounded off. It has only just been released overseas.

It’s a great time traveling mystery hooked into Nikola Tesla. It has the edge of the book “Da Vinci Code,” but the film is tighter and more thrilling. Having a female protagonist is what makes it so much more intriguing. It gets pretty exhausting always having a man be the hero. Come on, men are not as brave as women. They like to think so but their guts churn as much as ours do, except society won’t allow men to show their more delicate feminine side. There is nothing wrong with a man being sensitive, nor a woman. Being a man in this world may have its perks but I would never want to be a man, too vulnerable in many ways.

A new day.

As usual, I went way off subject while writing my entry yesterday. Jamie’s visit was touching and depressing. I told her I thought I was in love with her, but it had nothing to do with sex. It was the feeling of closeness with her that made me feel secure. Like I wasn’t alone. I just wanted her to hold me while we would just lie down together and snuggle. More for comfort than something prurient. It was all innocent. Jamie wasn’t sure it was a good idea to get that close. What would Scottie think?

Scottie and I have an understanding. Nothing ever becomes sexual unless it is forced. I don’t sleep with other woman for sex. I have never slept with anyone for sex. The fact that sex has been foisted upon me by the desires of other people, is not my doing. My therapists have all told me, the sexual abuse and the mind and emotional abuse scarred me so severely when I was a child and the abuse followed me into my adult life. I have always been unable to stop an abuser. My fight or flight reflexes don’t work. I freeze when threatened by anything and I don’t know how to stop a person from forcing themselves on me.

When Sylvia’s drug incapacitated me, it was like living in a nightmare. My body couldn’t shut down. My usual escape route was blocked off by her cleverness. I couldn’t dissociate. She had me trapped. I saw and felt everything that she did. It was brutal. She was brutal. It felt like having surgery without anesthesia. It’s why I had to kill myself. What she did when she stole my means of removing myself from her abuse, it opened the door for all my abusers to gang rape me, beginning that night and ever since. All the things they have done have been flooding my mind and body ever since the night Sylvia took me hostage, paralyzed me, and sexually savaged my body. It was painful on all levels of sensitivity. Sylvia was possessed by a demon when she raped me. The time was endless. I never felt she would stop. In fact, she didn’t stop on her own.

Jamie broke through the locked door to my study. Once she was in the room, she assessed the situation and immediately attacked Sylvia and pulled Sylvia away from me. It was at that moment when James leaped on Sylvia’s back. He latched his claws into her back while he pinned her to the floor. James is a Savannah cat. He is enormous. His weight is over 40 pounds. He sat on her, with claws dug in while Jamie called ‘911’ and the three of us waited for them to arrive.

Where was Scottie? I wanted to see Scottie. She would know what to do. But I couldn’t speak. I was in a drug haze which shut down my motor functions, including my speech center. Jamie must have seen the helplessness in my eyes, and realized I needed help right away. She tried Scottie on her cell but no answer. She sent a text, hoping Scottie would see it and come right after seeing the text.

The police and paramedics arrived, one after the other. That caught Scottie’s attention from their party. She had no idea what the fuck was going on. She followed them to where I was. Jamie had given instructions to the ‘911’ operator. Once Scottie was in my study, she looked around in a stunned fashion and asked Jamie, “What the Hell is going on here? What happened to Madison?”

Jamie explained it as much as she could figure out. Sylvia drugged Madison. She told Scottie the study door was locked and when I didn’t answer. Jamie thought that was too odd so she broke down the door. What she saw was so disturbing, she told Scottie she couldn’t describe it, except to say that Sylvia was literally raping me. She said, I was silent. I appeared unable to speak at all.

Scottie rushed over to me. I was being attended to by the paramedics. They were taking my vitals. My pulse and heartbeat were extremely slow. They called into the ER of the nearest hospital. They told the doctor on call, they had a patient who had a weak and thready pulse. They were concerned it may be a drug overdose but not self-administered. Instead the paramedic told the doctor, she felt the patient was in shock from the effects of the drug. Also, the patient had undergone a situation where she was forcibly raped by another woman who used objects, which visibly were covered in blood, that would have cause internal injuries, possibly tearing the flesh.

The paramedic went on to describe the patient, me, that I had severe cuts on my body that were still bleeding. Other bleeding came from wounds within my mouth, and internally from inside my vaginal area. How deep the injuries were could not be detected in the field. The patient needed immediate ultrasound.

I heard what she was saying to the doctor at the ER and felt like I was in a movie theatre hearing a scene after a battle in a war zone.

The female paramedic kept giving the doctor information. She told the doctor they did not know how the drug was administered or specifically what the drug was or whether there was only one drug used. Scottie was hearing all this as she stared into my eyes. I could see her tears. She held my hand and kept squeezing it as the paramedics worked on me. Her hand felt good holding mine. It took me away from the circus going on around me.

The doctor ordered the paramedics to rush me immediately to the ER for tests and to start flushing the drugs out of my system. Once that was achieved, they would do further tests to see what kind of physical damage was caused due to the attack and rape.

The paramedics secured me to the stretcher. Once it was elevated, they rushed me out of my study, taking a route that would not bring me into the area where the party was taking place. They were trying to be as sensitive as possible and to cause the least amount of added trauma to me. I was a corpse with a pulse at this point, and a thready one at that.

What I could feel is my life slipping away. How long was I with Sylvia? How long was she using my body as her own torture victim? Time was irrelevant. It has disappeared. My mind wasn’t functioning. Jamie filled me in on all of this today. All that she was able to put together herself.

The hospital was not talking to anyone about me except Scottie. Even with Scottie, they tried to give her a difficult time seeing me. I had signed a power of attorney and a living will giving Scottie control of my health. This kept the hospital from blocking her from me and my records. So Scottie was able to find out everything there was to know at present, but she decided I didn’t need to know everything.

Scottie is a great protector but I needed to know. She felt I should talk to you, Annie. It seems she has spoken to you and filled you in. Maybe you can tell me more. Jamie told me what her perceptions picked up, but she doesn’t know everything. What really happened that night?

Dr. Virginia McKinnon, my psychiatrist here at Redcliff, won’t even tell me what she knows. Her theory is, it would be too dangerous to me to have all the information at once. She was concerned it might trigger an even stronger reaction to my feeling suicidal. The information would overload my mind, and push me closer to the edge than I am already.

A new day.

Jamie, I fell asleep last night thinking of you. My wish is for you to be my emotional lover. Someone I can have feelings for but who will not abandon me. I feel Jamie is safe. She is going to be showing up soon. After our visit, I will record what happened between us.

Later, after seeing Jamie.

Jamie told me she loved me but as a friend, not someone she had romantic feelings for. I tried to explain, I just wanted to be close. No sexual demands, strictly love, pure love. She told me we could talk about this another time. When I was stronger. It seemed it really needed a better setting than a psych hospital. She wasn’t going away, but past hugging, Jamie didn’t feel she could give that to me, even though she realized I needed someone to be close to me, to hold me. “Give Scottie a chance.” That is what Jamie suggested. I wasn’t sure Scottie would want to. Scottie was not into touching and cuddling. It wasn’t what she needed from me, to make a demand of closeness. Not really a demand but a need on my part.

I decided to tell Jamie to go. We would talk soon but I needed to rest. The truth is, I wanted to be alone. Not really alone. I wanted to think about Tosh. She had been on my mind a great deal. I have been having conversations with her for a while now. The reason I haven’t mentioned it, I thought you would think I was losing it.

Now I think it’s time for me to let Tosh back into my consciousness. She has been around, wanting me to give her my attention. Annie, you do realize who Tosh is? I know I haven’t really talked much about her but maybe I need to at least free myself to listen to her. At night, she comes to me when I am trying to go to sleep. I feel her lying next to me. It’s quite safe. She is a ghost. Not like she is going to harm me. We loved each other and were only just starting to feel our closeness. When we kissed, it was like magic. Time would slow and the sensation was deep and consuming. I don’t feel either of us ever wanted to stop kissing but life was there and calling us back to reality.

Tosh was involved with a murderous woman when she met me. As we grew closer, she broke off her relationship with her ex. That woman didn’t take it well. For now, that is all I want to say about that. I just want to think about Tosh as she is now, away from the nightmare that stole her from me. Now I just want to feel her lying next to me in silence. We talk sometimes. Tosh listens to me than gives me her response. I feel her energy touching me. It feels like a total infusion.

Maybe I need to escape this world and be with Tosh. She is the only one who wants to be with me. I need Tosh. I love Tosh and want to be with her.

I know what you’re going to say, “But Tosh is dead, how can you be with her, unless you are dead.”

That is one way, but we can be together without my having to die.

I don’t want to talk about this with you right now. I’ve said too much already. The demons are going to come now and fuck with my mind and body.

I’m going now. I have two people here who seem to like me. An older woman who tells great stories but has no idea, most of the time, who she is. Her name is Helen. The other person is much younger. She is a college student. The educational system has crushed her. She is lost. For some reason, she talks to me but no one else. I like her. I feel safe with these two woman. The young woman is an artist, painter. Her name is Lynne. I think Helen, Lynne and I could become good friends. I hope so.

Annie, you have to help me. I don’t feel like I am getting better in here. It feels like my world and mind are crumbling. My body hurts. The wounds are healing but slowly. There will be scars. What’s stored in my mind is “written in my scars.” They tell the world, someone tried to shred me in order to make me disappear. I reminded them of their inherent evil when they looked at me. She was trying to destroy me in order to keep from destroying herself. But she can’t stop the destruction. The evil will eat her alive.

Goodbye, Annie.

Madison

Ps. I may not ever return from this well of darkness, but I want you to know I remembered that we met one year ago as of 2nd October 2007. Today is the 7th of October 2008. Happy Anniversary. If it weren’t for you, I would seriously be gone now.

© Madison Taylor 2008

“I think writing really helps you heal yourself. I think if you write long enough, you will be a healthy person. That is, if you write what you need to write, as opposed to what will make money, or what will make fame.“ — Alice Walker

Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry

surreal spirit painting

Surreal Spirit

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Le Chateau de Rocher

Le Chateau de Rocher is Madison & Scottie’s Home

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play. Pretending is imagined possibility” — Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

Private Writings: Chapter #55 – It’s Wrong for the Right Reasons

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #55 – It’s Wrong for the Right Reasons

Written by Jennifer Kiley
Painting by NAME OF ARTIST
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 1st April 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
Not Suitable For Children.
All Characters Are Fictitious.
Anyone Resembling Anyone Living or Dead
Is Purely Coincidental.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell
psychoanalyst

I am the storyteller
using imagination fantasy feelings & thoughts
to discover self soul eternal serenity & bliss
but to most importantly
tell the best tale ever after upon a time

see you down the rabbit hole.

Private Writings: Chapter #55 — It’s Wrong for the Right Reasons

Tuesday 23rd September 2008

Dear Annie,

I told you last week I would tell you about my grandmother. She was so special to me. My real fairy godmother was my grandmother. She gave me a nickname I love so much. Mandy is that nickname my grandmother gave me when I was little. She would sit me in her lap and tell me how much she loved her sweet sweet granddaughter Mandy. I was her baby girl. She was the only one who loved me when I was a child. And the only person who did not abuse me in some way. Her hugs were the best in the world. Before she left me, she tried to prepare me for her death. I told her she was never going to die. Death wasn’t something I understood at that time. I never knew anyone who died. Death did not feel like it was a part of my world. She had an awful accident falling down the stairs. In the hospital, she had broken her hip and from her inability to move, she developed pneumonia.

I was too young to visit her by myself and my horrible parents did nothing to take any of us to see her. She was lost to me. I didn’t understand how to communicate with her. I was confused. Then the news came through my grandmother was going to go into a nursing facility to recover. She told me many times she would never ever go into one of them. I don’t even understand why they would tell her such a thing. My grandmother was filthy rich. She could afford to be taken home and receive plenty of care. But no, my parents and my mother’s uncle, the one who abused me, weren’t going to give my grandmother the peace of mind to do what she wanted. Later that same day, I heard my mother scream this awful sound. I ran to where she was. My awful mother was crying. Struggling to get the words out, she told me my grandmother was dead. I was so young, all I could feel was stunned.

The safest person in the world to me, the only person I loved and who loved me, she was gone. She was dead. My grandmother was dead. The last time I saw her alive, I was hugging her. I lay on her bed next to her and we snuggled as close as the pain would allow. It was the best snuggle in the world. I told my granma “I love you.” I think I kept on saying it as they were trying to pull me away from her. She didn’t want to let go either this time. The parents were always trying to pull us apart. When I would hold her in a full arm hug just before it was time to leave her home, the parents had to pry us apart then, too. I knew if I let go, I would have to go back to hell. All I wanted was my grandmother to keep me with her.  Now she was dead. That is the last time I saw her, when she was dead lying in her coffin. I kissed her on the forehead. She wasn’t there. It was the first time I cried after she died. When I could see she wasn’t just someplace else, she was dead and I would never hug her again or feel her hug me, holding on tight, trying to protect me from what she never knew. I never told her about any of the abuse that was going on. I didn’t want it to spoil our relationship.

Now I have lost far too many people since my grandmother’s death. People I loved, who were too young to die but they died anyway. In all the unfairness of life, killing people when they are young is the cruelest elements of life. Death freaks me out except when I am feeling suicidal. Then I crave it. I want it. I want death to take me. It is that simple. That is why I took those pills. I miss all the women in my life who I loved and now they are dead. I feel such a deep capacity to feel intense emotional feelings. When I love, I love intensely. And I am talking about Love not sex. Sex is not meant to be something I can experience with another person. The abusers stole that from me, the ability to feel love and sexual attraction together. It doesn’t work for me. What I am able to do is love passionately but not love if it has anything to do with being sexual. Loving passionately for me is to feel my emotions of love very intensely and deeply. It is the purist kind of love I know. Love being Love. The way I feel for Scottie. She understands me. Her generosity of support is what was keeping me alive for so long.

No one can keep you alive if you don’t want to be. Tosh has been around. Her spirit is watching over me. She has visited me here. We have spent a great amount of time talking. Sorting out why she had to die so young. I’ve never gotten over losing her. But she is with me now, so I am not alone.  As for the rest of everyone here, no one seems like anyone I want to relate to. But it may just be too soon. As I said, I do like my shrink. I just want to see you, Annie. I need lots of your hugs to help me make it through.

Why do people misunderstand love and hugs and saying “I love you?” That crushes me more than anything else. My heart feels like it has been crushed. The weight on my chest and the difficulty I have breathing makes me feel like I am dying. Am I ready to die? Part of me was ready to go before Jamie found me. Do I still want to die? I am not sure. When I think about it strongly enough, I would have to say yes. Yes, I still want to die. If I say that to my Doctor, I will be staying here way too long. So help me work something out, so I can get out of here. Most of all, I miss my cats, Alison, Scottie, and you. And I want to go home. I miss my home.

Help me get out of here. I know I am sounding like I am on the mania train but we can work on getting my suicidal depression back in line. You just need to snap me out of twirling around inside my brain. I’m drowning here. I surely will if I don’t get some relief from strangers. Unlike Blanche Dubois, “I do not depend upon the kindness of strangers.” Friends are just strangers in disguise. They aren’t really there to bond with you, they just want what they need but disguise it as love and caring but in reality they are stealing all your good energy for themselves and leave you starving to death. But they don’t care or give a fuck.

Well, fuck them if they can be so cruel to abandon you when you most need them. Fuck her. Who “her” is, is the $5 Billion Dollar Q & A. Name anyone and I would say they have contributed to my surrender. Living in secret. Living in fear of living. Living in fear of loving. Living in fear of Life. Living in fear of Trust stolen from me so many times in the Sacrifice. Living in fear of Death but only when Death is a threat. When it is sweet, sweet like the feelings of the deepest and darkest depression carrying me as though in a coffin through the rocking finality of death. The finality of Death is Living. But when I try to take the living out of my own self and enter Death without being called to it properly causes all sorts of people to get all weird and concerned. When truthfully no one gives a shit.

When we die, we are just gone. Only the tender few, like myself, love that deeply, when we feel death stealing us away. For the young who die, it is the last high carrying us closer to the other side. Each high brings us a shade too close to the thinning edge. I feel when we rip our body away from our soul someone has to help us through the pain after death. First figuring out where we are when we realize, “This isn’t Earth any longer. Nor is it OZ. It is filled with darkness. We can see our spirit but nothing else is visible. This is after we first leave our body. How long this period lasts, it’s impossible to measure without the existence of time. It is all for what? I thought maybe it was all for Love.

I’m exhausted. So that is all I have for now. I feel close to sane but on the edge of madness. Let me repeat my usual closing. It will make things appear to be as usual. I will see you soon. I must.

That’s all for now.

“Time for time and traveling with circuses must end. It is time to soar through the time barrier into all moments in the Universe.”

So, until I see you, I end with my favorite quote from the film Brief Sacrifice.

“Time can be folded and joined with all elements in all places as the one ultimate moment when time is all at once. In this place everything happens on a continual loop following into a continuum of time forever into infinity. In the “Silver Box,” there is contained the ability to draw time into itself and create the perfect infinite moment.”

I end this letter in “the moment between seconds.”
Love Fondly,

Madison

© Madison Taylor 2008

acrylic_fluid_painting_61_by_mark_chadwick

Acrylic Fluid Painting 61 by Mark Chapwick

Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry

robert-mapplethorpe_15 multiple tiger orchids bluish purple bg

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Le Chateau de Rocher

Le Chateau de Rocher is Madison & Scottie’s Home

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play. Pretending is imagined possibility” — Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

Depression, the secret we share

tell me a story
Depression, the secret we share
TED Talk: Andrew Solomon
Notations by Jennifer Kiley
Created on 8th January 2014
Posted On Thursday 27th March 2014
TELL ME A STORY

Andrew Solomon: Depression, the secret we share – TED Talk

“The opposite of depression is not happiness, but vitality, and it was vitality that seemed to seep away from me in that moment.”

In a talk equal parts eloquent and devastating, writer Andrew Solomon takes you to the darkest corners of his mind during the years he battled depression. That led him to an eye-opening journey across the world to interview others with depression — only to discover that, to his surprise, the more he talked, the more people wanted to tell their own stories.

Depression. Grief. Sadness. These get confused.

Depression. When you have a catastrophic lost and six months later you are still devastated and unable to function. This is depression. “A slower way of being dead.”

You don’t think in depression you are just in a bad way. You believe you are seeing the truth. No matter what we do we are all going to just die in the end.

Depression is the family secret that everyone has.

Why do people feel a need to hide they are depressed? The stigma of having any kind of problem with the brain, unless it is medically connected, is such a misunderstanding. The brain is part of the body. If it is not functioning in a healthy way, it is a physical illness that needs treatment and concern and especially support from those who surround them, including society to find compassion and understanding.

Instead of taking someone who is depressed in a dance circle and working out the block in energy, we take them into a small dark room and make them talk about all the things that are making them feel awful.

Our needs are our greatest assets. Seeking meaning for depression. Valuing one’s depression. Learn something from depression. The opposite of depression is vitality. I love my depression because it has forced me to cling to joy.

Depression is when expressing emotions have been damaged or shut off.

Cleave to the reasons for living.

Depression is equal parts eloquent and devastating.

Private Writings: Chapter #54 – I Feel Fine

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013
Private Writings: Chapter #54 – I Feel Fine
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Painting by NAME OF ARTIST
Introduction &amp; Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 25th March 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
Not Suitable For Children.
All Characters Are Fictitious.
Anyone Resembling Anyone Living or Dead
Is Purely Coincidental.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell
psychoanalyst

I am the storyteller
using imagination fantasy feelings & thoughts
to discover self soul eternal serenity
but to most importantly
tell the best tale ever after upon a time

see you down the rabbit hole.
namaste! madison taylor

Private Writings: Chapter #54 — I Feel Fine

Tuesday 16th September 2008

Dear Annie,

They won’t let me see you while I’m in this place. The doors may not be locked but no one is going to allow me to leave. I never wanted to be inside a place where they watch every minute detail of what I do. Why didn’t she let me die? Why did Jamie call for help. She should have let me die. How did she know I was in trouble? I remember sending you a letter for her. Oh, right, I sent her the poem I wrote about love. I sent a preface to the poem I wrote for her. What an idiot. I was talking about suicide. Never said I was going to do it. Even if I did take all my stash of Klonopin mixed with some brandy. I was just starting to fall asleep for good. Heading into a peaceful sleep. No more thoughts. No more feelings. No more pain. No more people pretending to love me and then fucking me. Abandoning me. I am sick of it. Let them all go fuck themselves.

I want you to see the note and poem I sent to Jamie. Would it make you get so alarmed you call in the cops and medics. Between Jamie pulling me to my feet and walking me around before the emergency crew arrived. Jamie even walked me into a ice cold shower. That freaked my body out. I think I went into a seizure or something that felt like I was way out of control. I was awake bearly, but I wasn’t coherent. Nothing was making any sense at that moment. My eyes couldn’t focus at all.

Enter the women in their scrubs with their equipment. They were plugging me in to so many tubes. We were off to the hospital in no time. Pumping stomachs. Needles into tubes going into my body. They have a shrink talk to me. I was too out of it to make sense out of what she said. She did say she was going to admit me into the psyche ward for observation. That freaked me out. I demanded they contact my partner Scottie Andrews. She had power of attorney. I wasn’t going to be going upstairs.

Scottie arrived. Jamie had tracked her down and explained what had happened. She was upset with me but more concerned than angry. Scottie talked. I tried to listen. What I remember of our conversation is, our lawyer Michael was working on finding me a place at the Redcliff Psychiatric Institute. Being here is like being at a Country Club. Here I am, in this fall back to “David and Lisa” and “Lilith.” A place of splendor with Dr. Virginia MacKinnon, a great psychiatrist, for me to talk to.  She isn’t you. I’d rather be talking to you. But I am giving her a chance. I just am so confused by all that is happening. Why did I take all those pills? Why can’t I get away from people who want to hurt me? Why does it seem that I trust all the wrong kind of people who want to abuse me?

I want you to see what I wrote to Jamie that night. It might give you a sense of where I am at this moment. Maybe it’s telling, maybe not. I know I am going to write you as often as they allow me to. I wish I could call you or text you but they won’t let me have my cell phone or any of my techno gadgets. No laptops. No Tablets. No Cell Phones. No communication with the outside. With one exception, I am allowed to write to you. And I know you can’t write to me. They don’t want any outside influences.

Here is the note and poem I wrote to Jamie. I love her. I love Scottie. I love Alison. Please help them understand what I’ve done. I haven’t stopped feeling like killing myself. I still want to die. The depression has cut me off from feeling alive. I try to write poems. They won’t let me have my medical marijuana. That is killing me. It was the only thing that kept me balanced when I was balanced. My bipolar is out of control.

Lets forget about that. They won’t change their minds. MJ not allowed in here. No exceptions. This is going to make me feel more like I am falling apart than ever. I am sorry I let you down Annie. Trying to kill myself. It was stupid. The pain had a hold on me. It was crushing me. I had to let go. My estate was all settled and in good order. Everyone I wanted to be sure was taken care of was well planned out in my Will. Michael is a great lawyer.

I am putting it off. Here is what I wrote to Jamie. Keep in mind I was thinking of you in the note but I wanted Jamie to be the one to receive the note. To help her understand why I was doing what I did:

“I am insecure & uncertain about what is ok in terms of times & frequency of what is acceptable. I feel I could make a mistake & not even know it. It is causing the development of a darkness of confusion.”

“I love Jamie.  I spent the day almost intentionally focusing my attention on anything but thinking & feeling Jamie’s presence. I am afraid of the level of intensity between Jamie & I. With almost certainty, I feel Jamie & I are experiencing equal levels of intense emotions toward the other.”

“I want to hold her. I want to know what it feels like to wrap my arms around her. And to feel her body melting into mine. She would feel soft to hold. I want to lie down beside Jamie. To pull our bodies as close together as possible. And we would fall asleep with our lips near the others. Close enough to feel her warm breath caressing my face with the delicacy of her breathing.”

“I love her. I want to feel her spirit enter inside of me with warm loving energy. If I told her these feelings, I am not certain what her reaction would be. What I would like is for Jamie to tell me she feels the exact same way about me as I feel about her. We love each other deeply, as it is possible to love someone else who moves us into the highest spiritual level possible. I Love Her Now & Always & Forever. She is my soul spirit connection. I just want to dream about her.”

A poem of Haiku for J.S.

Love you bring to me
Before the sun can shine I
Dream of you with me

Before me you stand
My eyes look deep inside you
Two souls joined as one

You live in my mind
Your love sleeps inside my heart
Our lips want to speak

Love me forever
I am your soul protector
Loving you always

(c) mandy two-zero-zero-eight

I need Jamie. Her presence in my life fills up my fantasy world with warm and pleasurable sensations. When I think of her I can make up any feeling I want to experience. She is real inside for me. It may not be a sane reality but how close is sanity to madness and fantasies to reality. If you want them to happen you find a way to manifest your dreams. Does it hurt to think of someone in a dream? Make them be for you what you need. Does that make me insane for wanting a dream that once was to now be real again.

It pains me to want to love and not be able to get my body to be able to express those feelings in a real situation. When you are so careful, a nightmare enters your world and destroys it by crushing my dreams by overwhelming with the reality of my childhood by doing now what was a constant then. When she raped me, she stole away the last of my innocence. I guarded it and thought I was safe with all the protection I had surrounding me. But she still broke through and took everything that was left.

I just want to feel love. The kind of love I felt with my grandmother. I am tired. I will write more about the only person who ever loved me without wanting something in return. The energy of love I felt with my grandmother was magical and mystical. It filled me up and protected me from the abusers destroying me. She placed a shield that surrounded me. It kept their handling of my flesh from penetrating into my soul and darkening my spirit from the light. The light stayed alive inside me because grandmother has always protected me. I believe she is one of my guardian angels and I think and feel Tosh is another of those who protect me.

That’s all I can write for now. Until next week.

“Time for time and traveling with circuses must end. It is time to soar through the time barrier into all moments in the Universe.”

So, until I see you, I end with my favorite quote from the film “Brief Sacrifice.”

“Time can be folded and joined with all elements in all places as the one ultimate moment when time is all at once. In this place everything happens on a continual loop following into a continuum of time forever into infinity. In the “Silver Box,” there is contained the ability to draw time into itself and create the perfect infinite moment.”

I end this letter in “the moment between seconds.”

Love Fondly,

Madison

@-;—

© madison taylor 2008

The embrace  klimt  sm

The Embrace – Artist Klimpt

Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry

scary purple flower

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Le Chateau de Rocher

Le Chateau de Rocher is Madison & Scottie’s Home

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play. Pretending is imagined possibility” — Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

Private Writings: Chapter #52 — Waiting for the Fall

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #52 – Waiting for the Fall

Written by Jennifer Kiley
Painting by Alexander Segregio
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 11th March 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
Not Suitable For Children.
All Characters Are Fictitious.
Anyone Resembling Anyone Living or Dead
Is Purely Coincidental.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell
psychoanalyst

I am the storyteller
using imagination fantasy feelings & thoughts
to discover self soul eternal serenity & bliss
but to most importantly
tell the best tale ever after upon a time

see you down the rabbit hole.
namaste! madison taylor

Private Writings: Chapter #52 — Waiting for the Fall

Tuesday 2nd September 2008

Dear Annie,

We have a problem developing. My feelings for Jamie have been growing. Their level is rising to the top of becoming extremely intense. I would say it is love. But I don’t seem to have any idea what the fuck love feels like. I get a fix on it. It all changes up. The one I love throws denial at me. Negating everything I feel exists between us. Is she lying to me? What is real between Jamie and myself. I have been attracted to Jamie since the first time I met her. Her eyes locked mine with her look. That’s why everyone loves her on the screen.

You know what I’m talking about. Look at how your daughter Rainer goes completely shy around Jamie.

Why am I talking this way. Jamie is my heroine. She rescued me from Sylvia. It was so swashbuckling. Crashing through my study door. Getting the police on the phone. Taking down Sylvia with Patrick our cat. He was a fierce one the night Sylvia raped me. I am dealing with the reality. I may not remember it all but I know she brutalized me. After she drugged me with a paralyzing effect. Date rape drug they think. I knew what was happening but I was physically unable to stop her. She violated me worse than any man could. One thing she did, I hate to talk about it. But if I write about it to you, maybe I will be able to get it out. I will write it for you. But I don’t think I want to talk about it. At least not now or ever maybe.

What I want to tell you may drive me mad someday. She touched me all over my body, inside as well. When I feel fear, I lose control of my senses. The adrenaline is fired up shooting through my veins. My blood is pumping out of fright. She took advantage of me. My fear let me down. When she touched me, my skin responded to her touch. My stomach wanted to turn into Linda Blair and spit green soup at her. And a few spins around with my head to terrify her. Instead she kept touching all the points that trigger my sexual responses. Her touches teased the responses out of my body. Until finally she won. She turned my body around and made me completely respond by losing control of my physical reactions. She forced me to react fully to her touch. It is what a rapist can do to confuse the one being abused. It makes me feel as though my body wanted it. When I know my body wasn’t cooperating, it was being coerced and forced to have a natural release from the kind of stimulation that was happening. She stole my last connection to feeling any hope of regaining my ability to respond to the touch of a lover.

I  am mad with grief that once again an abuser took those feelings away from me. How my body feels is like a traitor to our self- preservation and sanity. My mind is going mad. That awful woman raped me and stole away the most intimate part of being physically turned on. It seems only rapists can find that inner part of me. The vulnerability of intimacy has been destroyed by force. Conquering my power and stealing my essence from me. I am a shell. Emptied by a brutality I thought was over. I felt I had finally succeeded in vanquishing my abusers from my life. My sense of safety has been smashed to pieces by sexual force. I will never be able to feel trust with anyone again.

The night of the rape, Jamie crashed in my door. She threw Sylvia off of me, while Patrick, our magnificent feline, jumped on her and sunk his claws in deep, front and back. He wasn’t going to let her go. She released a blood-curdling yell at the torture Patrick’s claws were making of her back. A certain satisfaction flooded over me when I realized the rape was physically over with Sylvia but the flashbacks and memories buried from my childhood abuse were coming through the barriers. Visually perfect clearance. My senses were feeling the walls that protected me, breaking down around me. I was hallucinating a slide show of what they did to me. The many abusers my father had lined up for me and the abuse the ‘shadow mother’ perpetrated on my body, mind, soul and overall spirit, joie de vive. I lost the battle in childhood and have been in therapy ever since. My therapist doesn’t think I ever will heal. I will just grow out from it but it will be in the foundation of my life, that holds me together. If there is rot won’t it eventually collapse? That’s what I feel it’s doing now deep inside me. Slowly destroying my self, my identity, my sanity, my dreams. I am disappearing in the maze of darkness. Trapped. No way out. Can’t see anything clearly except the past and the abuse.

Jamie came to me that night after her brave rescue. We lay down together on the floor of my study. She threw a throw over us. I was shaking. Jamie’s arms wrapped around me so gently. Her hand was stroking my hair. She whispered over and over, “It will be alright.” I knew she wanted to mean that but it wasn’t ever going to be alright. It never was alright. Being forced to have a sexual response when you find that repulsive is the worse thing that can happen when you are being sexually abused as a child or as an adult. This has happened twice to me now. Once when I was 10 and my father forced me to go off with his friend. That friend of his touched me against my will and his touches awakened a feeling inside of me I never felt before. What happened then happened with Sylvia. She forced me like my father’s friend did by touching me in a way that made it impossible to fight the way my body reacted. It haunted me then and now it is complete. The destruction of trusting my body and allowing anyone to ever touch in that way again.

It is driving me mad. I don’t trust anyone. Not even Jamie, though I may want to. I know she would never do anything to harm me. She wouldn’t force herself on me in any way. So why do I feel she has abandoned me whenever she goes away or when she is silent when you expect she will be there for you. Jamie is an exceptional woman and I love her. When we talked awhile back about love. She said it is possible to feel in love with someone special without it ever having to be sexual. To feel in love can be a powerfully emotional feeling that goes beyond a casual friendship. It is an intense spiritual bonding that relates on the level of pure love. The love in energizing. It feels spectacular. It can take you higher than any sexual love is capable of reaching.

I need this feeling of in love less the sexual element. Jamie understands. I’ve talked to her about my theory before now. It is why I trust her to comfort me. She would never put on me any inappropriate feelings that I cannot handle now, but then I never have been able to handle the sexual aspects of life, not love. I try to keep love away from sex. Keeping it pure. Real but without the Tantric side the bodies needs to  express with another person.  Working out rebellious sexual feelings one can do alone. It is the safest way to stop when you want to.

It use to be a desire of mine to have the perfect lover and to make love with everything flowing perfectly. It isn’t going to happen for me. The abusers, my parents, and siblings ruined it for me to be intimate with anyone. When I am close to anyone physically, I feel like a failure. My body takes control and shuts down. It will not open up again. The only way to have sex with me is to force yourself on me. And then you need to force me to do what you want.

It is driving me quite mad. All of this mess. I just want to die. I feel it more strongly every moment I have an opportunity to think. I try to stop myself from thinking. To stop my feelings. Screaming comes to mind. The worse thing is starting to happen, the confusion is beginning to take over my psyche. In this state, everything, everyone, everywhere feels  dangerous. Now this sense of danger surrounds me. My thoughts call out with words, ‘Please, just hold me Jamie. Where is Scottie. I need Scottie too. And Alison. I need her to be close now. I need to know no one else is in danger.’ My mind can’t think of anything but feeling threatened. There is no one I can trust. Those people touched us in places without our permission. I never wanted any of it. I hate sex with men. I hate sex with anyone. I hate being used for sex. Being forced to have sex. Having sex feel so destructive. It is an invasion of intimacy when it is not wanted and never wanted from those who force it on me.

What do you suppose it feels like when someone uses your body for their own pleasures, as if you didn’t exist except in the power they can overlord you with, knowing they can rape you anytime they want. Daytime. Nighttime. When you are asleep. Wherever you are. A molester can find you. They watch you. They know your schedule and your habits. Most of all they are uncanny at their ability to find you alone in a perfect place for them to force sex on you. Mostly, they just want to fuck you or fondle you. They take pictures of your body parts. You never feel safe. Threats are always made. Be quiet. Tell no one. Or die.

I needed to get this out. What I am feeling? Am I going mad from all of this turmoil? A darkness is coming. A depression like weighted pockets and walking into the sea to drown. Except I am afraid to drown, not to die. Let me die wiped clean of these memories of Hell and Evil. Before I die, I want to know what it feels like to be loved for who I am, not by someone who wants to kidnap my body for their own games and sadistic pleasures. There isn’t satisfaction in any of this, only nightmares.

I will send this off to you Annie so you know what is developing. Last point I will add. I am in danger from myself. It is close to hiding sharp objects and extra pills. But I won’t do that. Just in case I need to go away forever.

So sorry Annie that I feel this way. Even you won’t be able to bring me back from this mess inside my head. My body is ruined. I want to get rid of it so no else can touch it again without my permission. It is wrong to touch anyone who says no. No more wrong again touches.

Love You Annie. Please don’t ever leave me.
Madison

@-;—

© madison taylor 2008

tree sun moon swirl painitng

Artist Alexander Segregio

Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry

Pink Flower by Tom Bradshaw 2013

Pink Flower by Tom Bradshaw 2013

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Le Chateau de Rocher

Le Chateau de Rocher is Madison & Scottie’s Home

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play. Pretending is imagined possibility” — Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

Private Writings: Chapter #45/#46 Trauma With Drama/Double the Trouble

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013

Private Writings: Chapter #45/#46 – Trauma With Drama/Double the Trouble

Written by Jennifer Kiley
Painting by Jk McCormack
Introduction & Chapter #1
Published on March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On Tuesday 28th January 2014

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.

NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.

ANYONE RESEMBLING ANYONE LIVING OR DEAD
IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

private writings to dr. annie haskell,
psychoanalyst extraordinaire,
storytelling using letters, dreams, thoughts, poems, images,
music, art, scripts, psychotherapy, psychoanalysis,
inspirations, reflective comments, inner/outer workings
mind, soul, body, emotions, bipolar, mentally creative, interesting,
brain misfiring; abuse, crashes, near drownings,
hallucinations, heightened sexuality, time warps,
finding answers, unsolved mysteries, infatuations,
imagination, fantasy, discover self, soul, eternal serenity, bliss

see you down the rabbit hole.
namaste! madison taylor

Private Writings: Chapter #45 — Trauma With Drama

Tuesday 22nd July 2008

Dear Annie,

I never finished going over my letter from last week. So much more to tell you. It’s a conflict. Talking about the new Trauma Group is important. Knowing a few of the women was a surprise. But it’s more important to talk to you about when I thought I had DID. The Trauma Group, I’ll save for other letters.

Awhile ago, I was told I had Dissociative Identity Disorder.  The therapist who told me, encouraged me to give the alters names and develop each one’s identity, their responsibilities and characteristics. I want you to know who lived with me for many years. The first one, I feel is the most outrageous. Her name is Laura. She was the one who was conscious when the abuse happened. It happened to her. They are her memories. Ever since, what she experienced during the sexual abuse, it ingrained inside of her a learning code. It causes her to sexualize every person we get close to. Not easy to admit.

What I am about to admit to you, may sound crazy coming from me, but she is aroused by you, Annie. And that isn’t all. Laura feels obsessed with you. It isn’t her fault though.

I need to clarify further.  My saying Laura is attracted and obsessed with you, doesn’t mean anyone else is. In fact, we aren’t, obsessed with you, that is. It is Laura’s thing. Not ours. We like you and feel close to you but it goes no further.

I’ve said too much. I can feel Laura feeling upset. She’s always gotten us into way too many situations.

Keep in mind, this story, I’ve been telling it to myself all these years that I feel I am or was once DID. And believing it. So did Scottie, and our closed friends thought I was just more eccentric than I already was.

Now, Meggie, she is so different. She just wants you to be her mother. Just needs love and hugs. She gets those from you in a very unobtrusive way.

Lets flip to the male side of our inner family.  There’s Brad. Warning. Watch out for him. Gets extremely intense, rageful, and add anger. Why, you may ask? No trust in grown ups at all. He feels you all betray us. No offense.

Ginny is sad. What I mean is, she is removed from feelings. All she experiences is depression and deep thoughts of suicide. What sets her off the most right now is the thought of you not loving her. She is younger than all of us but she feels older.

We believed our alters were real. When we believed completely in their existence, they felt real. Not so sure anymore. They felt like they existed. We felt their presence. They always felt to me to be very young. Don’t know anymore what to believe. Except the bipolar. I know I get manic, depressed and suicidal. All the DSM IV and 5 symptoms they have well written out.

We only use the word “we” now because it’s familiar. And we, also, feel like we are shattered.

We don’t entirely feel safe with you, Annie. That’s why we don’t want to let our guard down. Testing comes first.  But most of the time, we have a strong urge and need for you to know our story. For some reason it is necessary. We want someone we trust to know the complete truth. What really happened. Not just what I remember in my head.

I think we do love you. But those feelings make us feel confused about you, Annie, and about ourself.

Ask Brad if it is okay if we love you. We would like it if you would love us, too. Maybe it will help our shattered parts come together. If we were really loved by you.

Being a lesbian, we know telling you this may frighten you away. When a woman who is a lesbian loves another woman, someone who is married to a man, it can feel suspicious. But truthfully, our feeling of love is not sexual, not really. We just want to feel love. I want to believe that it isn’t bad or wrong to love and be loved by you.

Brad protects us, even against you, Annie. Women can hurt us just as much as a man.

I forgot to tell you, Meggie is too young for sex, but she knows about it.

Also, I forgot someone very important. Her name is Nessa, Ginny’s twin. Nessa lives with the heaviest depression but Ginny carries the dangerous one. She holds the suicidal feelings in her heart and it keeps breaking her.

And then there is Sandy. Our flamboyant gay male. He feels it’s a redundancy. Sandy likes the recognition and parties. Especially, likes getting high and dancing. He has no idea how he feels about you. He’s very likeable. Use to get everyone high when he would go bar hopping in NYC.

It’s a consensus. We decided you are kind, intelligent, beautiful and you have the softest, gentlest and most soothing voice we have ever heard.

We just want to get close to you. We’d like you to get close to us, too. For us, it will take a great deal of bravery. Getting close to anyone is scary as hell. So with you, it matters so much, so it makes it even scarier. We have more to lose.

You are inside our mind now. But we are still haunted with so many questions. I know you will ask what kind of questions. Simple. Is what we feel okay? Is it okay to love you? Our feelings are filled with pain. Fear is building up. Too much pressure. Love is dangerous or painful. When I love someone and trust them, two things have happened. They betray me by abusing me or they die. Either way I am hurt and abandoned.

Talking about what I feel is important. I want you to understand me. I don’t want to hold back.

What does love really feel like? How do I recognize it? Do you feel anything like love for me? I would really like the answer to that question.

No bullshit. No saying it’s transference. That is lame. Therapists cop out using that shit. What I feel is real. Don’t understand what it means. I need you to tell me it’s okay, the way I feel for you.

Honestly, I think I am in love with you. I am in love with another woman. And it hasn’t a thing to do with sex.  Being “in love” to me is feeling intense feelings of love. It’s not sexual. Will I ever understand? Does anyone know what love means? Do you, Annie?

It causes so much bloody confusion.

*       *       *       *       *       *       *

I’m slipping in Scottie’s letter next. Following is a second letter from me.

Dear Annie,

I see you have drawn me into Madison’s therapy. If I understand, you just want some feedback on her behavior.

Certain points I feel are important. One, she forgets she needs to sleep. It doesn’t feel important to her. She escapes to her study, always writing, but rarely leaves. If not their, she’s in her studio painting.

When I get home after being away for a shoot, she follows me around as if to watch me. To see if I will magically disappear again. Sometimes she speaks to me like we have never spoken before. She has been in a fairly constant manic state recently. She is producing, which is good. Great scrips to turn into a film. Something for me to direct. Paintings to hang in our Art Gallery. But all this energy she’s using, I feel she is heading for a major crash.

I am afraid when her depression hits, it will be bleak. The darkness surrounds her, literally. I can feel it and see it. She won’t wake until after it’s dark out. She goes to sleep as soon as dawn hits the edge of the horizon. Her vampire comes out into the darkness. That’s what she’s doing.

Her mind is filled with one wish. She wants to die. It’s in her poetry and her scripts. They may be great and would make David Lynch want to do a meditation with her. She doesn’t speak, so that would be perfect. She actually throws herself into her work more when she’s in the darkness. A melancholia absorbed inside creativity.

Something is needed to shock her, to turn her around. Her body is suffering. Her Cancer treatment only stopped recently. Remember it almost killed her. Death was paying her regular visits then. It’s enough to traumatize anyone.

Let me not forget her abominable family. They want to kill her. It’s a matter of inheritance. So, they don’t leave her alone. Always finding ways to contact her. All of them scare the hell out of her except one brother and his daughter. She loves those two intensely. But the others, no way. We have people to keep them from her. It’s too complicated to get into now. But she has them crawling around in the spider webs in her mind. They creep through her brain and barge into her nightmares.

Is this enough, I hope? If she needs anyone right now, Annie, it’s you. Take the time to care for her. Gentleness and consistency, that’s what she needs. I do care deeply and I attempt to show it. But she is so damned difficult. Trying to push me away. She thinks that will work. But I won’t let her. We’re stuck in this life together, no matter what.

I have a strong suggestion. She needs to be placed on Medical Marijuana. With the Cancer Treatment she was given THC. What a change. Even though she was too weak to show signs of difference, I could tell her mood changed. She relaxed. Drank some liquids. I worry she is going to get really sick, if something doesn’t change.

Find a way for her to create but stay healthy. She’s divorced herself from her body. It is all out rejection. What happened to her body is too hard for her. And I am not talking about the Cancer.

Just help her. Please.

Yours,
Scottie Andrews

*       *       *       *       *       *       *

Private Writings: Chapter #46 — Double the Trouble

Tuesday 24th July 2008

Dear Annie,

Having time with you three times a week is fantastic. Seeing you Tuesday after the first Trauma Group on Monday, is a bit heady to process. Intense and overwhelming. Those words come to me. A mental rush. Being close to you. Having more time with you. It seems we finally have time to work. More time. I’m always wishing for more time. The effects you have on me will be more powerful. All is so good. Something in your power infuses me. I feel filled with super energy.

This letter is going to be short.

First Trauma Group. Meeting a new person I like. Her name, gone from my memory. I felt she was really drawn to you. I like her but she is too possessive of you. After group, I wanted to talk to you but she was there first and wasn’t going to share. I felt jealous. It set off a chain reaction, of the negative feelings, the confusion, and the irrational thoughts. Primary one being, feeling rejected. It isn’t rational but I felt rejected by you. You didn’t care any longer. It sent me off on an emotional roller coaster after I left. The feelings lasted until I saw you on Tuesday.

It’s okay now. She, actually, feels like someone I want to be friends with. But I don’t want her monopolizing you. What the fuck was her name. Blocked it. You will have to tell me on Monday in Trauma Group. Until then, thank you for listening.

One last thought. I wanted you to know what a great group I feel you put together. Thought I’d never be in a group again. Wrong. My Tarot reading was right. It is what I need to do now. Feelings were high, some scary, some strong, and some intensely powerful. What will be exposed in the Group is going to knock us all over, isn’t it?

Now I have to find a way to be brave enough to face my shadows and to go into the darkness. If you will figuratively hold my hand, it might help.

That’s all for now.

“Time for time and traveling with circuses must end. It is time to soar through the time barrier into all moments in the Universe.”

So, until I see you, I end with my favorite quote from the film Brief Sacrifice.

“Time can be folded and joined with all elements in all places as the one ultimate moment when time is all at once. In this place everything happens on a continual loop following into a continuum of time forever into infinity. In the “Silver Box,” there is contained the ability to draw time into itself and create the perfect infinite moment.”

I end this letter in “the moment between seconds.”

Love Fondly,

Madison

@-;—

© madison taylor 2008

150th Birthday of Gustav  Klimt - The Virgin (Maiden)

150th Birthday of Gustav Klimt – The Virgin (Maiden)

Somewhere In Time – Composer John Barry

Pierre Auguste Renoir - Roses and Jasmine  in a Delft Vase

Pierre Auguste Renoir – Roses and Jasmine in a Delft Vase

rain in garden gif

The Virgin
By Madison Taylor
23rd July 2008

Untouched entry blocked
Protected by innocence
Perversion invades

Nightmares being hell
Flames explode calling back pain
Feelings awakened

Youth is time for growth
Lightning follows path of thief
Regains what was lost

Time erases past
Memories rewritten now
Never recall the lies

Truth happens in light
Darkness takes hero returns
Bless the blind their eyes can see

© Madison Taylor 2008

innocence return - artist jk mccormack (c) JkM 2014

Innocence Return – Artist Jk McCormack (c) JkM 2007

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Le Chateau de Rocher

Le Chateau de Rocher

play is not just play meryl streep“Pretending is not just play. Pretending is imagined possibility” — Meryl Streep

Medicalmarijuana red cross marijuana leaf black bgMedical Marijuana

The Prince of Tides

prince of tides poster
The Prince of Tides
Film Review by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Created on 9th January 2014
Posted On Friday 10th January 2014
FILM FRIDAY

[WARNING: SOME ROUGH SCENES OF A VIOLENT SEXUAL NATURE. SUBJECT MATTER CAN BE DISTURBING]

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Barbra Streisand as Director of “The Prince of Tides”

“Prince of Tides” stars Barbra Streisand, Nick Nolte, Blythe Danner, and Kate Nelligan, plus George Carlin as the gay character who gives comic relief and lightens things up. Neighbor to Nick Nolte’s twin sister, Savannah. She starts out the film inside a hospital in serious condition after a suicide attempt.

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Tom Wingo [Nick Nolte] first visit to Dr. Lowenstein’s Office

There are certain scenes which can have a strong effect on many viewers. We are talking about VIOLENCE of the most disturbing kind.

Rare! The Prince of Tides – Behind the Scenes

My first times seeing this film were in a theatre. The totality of the film is so compelling, I needed to see it. When it first was released, it fit closely to psychological issues I was studying in my own mind.

Prince of Tides (Interpreting)

There is an under story carrying a huge secret. The entire film is absorbing, intense and the building of a relationship between the two lead characters of Dr. Lowenstein and Tom Wingo causes questions. One, he is married. Lowenstein is, also.

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Tom Wingo [Nick Nolte] & Dr. Lowenstein [Barbra Streisand]

But this is not what throws me, it is the questions, “Is she treating him or seeing him as a go-between for his sister and their family and a way for her to understand what is hidden. Or is she trying to uncover Tom’s secret as well, to get to his sister’s. Which brings up the question, “Is he technically her patient, also?” 

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Dr. Lowenstein behind her office desk talking with Tom Wingo

This is one of the dilemmas for me in “The Prince of Tides.” An excellent film to create many discussions in so many areas needing the darkness and shadows cleared.

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Tom Wingo in front of Dr. Lowenstein’s desk talking with the Doctor

It is a film that makes you think about trying to understand why life happens to you the way it does, with all it’s sudden surprises.

The Prince of Tides is such a story. It is about two worlds and two families. Secrets kept in one and not understanding love in the other.

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Tom with Lowenstein at dinner party listening to her famous husband Herbert play his Stradivarius violin

I am recommending “The Prince of Tides.” Pat Conroy wrote the novel & adapted the screenplay with Becky Johnston. The acting is incredible. Barbra Streisand, when I first saw this film, I envied Nick Nolte developing the relationship they did.

MSDPROF EC002

Tom and Lowenstein in park watching her son Bernard [Jason Gould, Streisand's son with Actor Elliot Gould]. Lowenstein hired Tom to teach him football.

What brings Tom to Dr. Lowenstein’s [Streisand] psychiatrist office? He is representing his family in a serious matter. His mother coerces him. Doesn’t believe she would be wanted.

Prince of Tides (Ethics)

What is revealed after Tom starts talking to Dr. Lowenstein is overwhelming at times when releasing the pain. His families life, when he was a child, had a great deal of manipulation and violence surrounding it.

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Tom and Lowenstein run into each other at one of Eddie’s parties [Savannah's neighbor played by George Carlin]

They jump between the flashbacks into Tom’s childhood and that of his siblings. Showing a brutal father and the questionable qualifications of their mother, also.

In the present, you see Tom spend some time with his sister who attempted to commit suicide and not the first time.  It is now time for talking to Dr. Lowenstein about his sister and the whole of the rest of his family, to sort out just what is so disturbing for Savannah.

MSDPROF EC067

Tom and Bernard after a good football learning work-out at park

There develops another layer between Lowenstein and Tom. They spend time together outside of her office. Technically, he is not her patient, his sister is. But things begin to get personal between the Doctor and Savannah’s brother Tom .

Lowenstein Holding Tom

Lowenstein Holding Tom

He meets her really irritating son, at first, and her arrogant, famous, violinist husband, who goes outside the barriers of rude to be a pompous, rich, elitist. Hairs get raised between Tom and Lowenstein’s husband. A violin comes between them. Lowenstein leaves. Tom follows.

When I first saw this film, the relationship between Tom and Lowenstein, I felt was crossing over the line. You decide. I am not sure any longer, for personal reasons.

13 The Prince of Tides (1991) lowenstein tom naked in bed

Lowenstein and Tom in bed at her vacation home

The film is about family, class, infidelity, a pain in the ass spouse, a misunderstood son, a nightmare that gets “buried.” Trauma everywhere in Tom and Savannah Wingo’s life.

Prince of Tides (Affective)

“The Prince of Tides” is emotionally charged with love and violence at their heights.

Be Warned, it is an Intense Film with traumatic scenes some may be disturbed by watching.

A note for the film, “The Prince of Tides” is the title of a book of poetry written by Savannah and dedicated to Tom. In the book this was different. It was a book Savannah wrote for their brother Luke. It was changed greatly in the screenplay. The central story switched from Luke Wingo, Tom & Savannah’s brother, being hunted and killed by government agents, to the love story between Tom and Lowenstein. I am drawn to the romance. Luke’s story is told in the book. Tom & Savannah’s story is told in the film in a deeply moving way. 

14 prince of tides tom and lowenstein at cottage in woods

Tom and Lowenstein feeling the loss

It is as great a film today, as the opening night in the theatre. Barbra Streisand did a fabulous job playing the role of Dr. Lowenstein and she was the excellent director of “The Prince of Tides.” The film was nominated for seven Academy Awards  including Best Picture, but lost the award to “The Silence of the Lambs.”

Film Review Written by Jennifer Kiley

The Prince of Tides – Trailer [1991]

Cast

Nick Nolte as Tom Wingo

Barbra Streisand as Dr. Susan Lowenstein

Blythe Danner as Sallie Wingo [Tom Wingo's wife]

Kate Nelligan as Lila Wingo Newbury [Tom & Savannah's mother & Luke's mother]

Jeroen Krabbé as Herbert Woodruff [Lowenstein's husband-the famous violinist]

Melinda Dillon as Savannah Wingo [Tom's twin sister]

George Carlin as Eddie Detreville [Savannah's gay neighbor]

Jason Gould as Bernard Woodruff [Lowenstein’s son and Streisand’s real life son with Elliott Gould

Confessions of a depressed comic

tell me a story
Confessions of a depressed comic
TEDTalk: Kevin Breel
Notations by Jennifer Kiley
Created 28th September 2013
Posted Thursday 3rd October 2013
TELL ME A STORY

Kevin Breel: Confessions of a depressed comic — TEDTalk

Published on Sept 27, 2013
Kevin Breel didn’t look like a depressed kid: team captain, at every party, funny and confident. But he tells the story of the night he realized that — to save his own life — he needed to say four simple words.

Mental Health is a serious situation in this country as well as in the rest of the world. People need to come out of the closet with what they are feeling and what they are dealing with on a daily basis. The people around them need to show more understanding and compassion and not judge how any one person is going to behave. Television, the news, media, fictional films and stories, distort how people are who suffer from depression, bipolar, schizophrenia, agoraphobia, panic disorders, the list is so long the DSM-5 has over 300 diagnoses. Before anyone judges anyone, be sure you are not amongst those who have their own mental condition in which to deal.

I am bipolar and have co-morbidity with several other diagnoses. Nothing stops me from living my life. I do not hide who I am. It is important to be truthful to myself and the world I live in. Secrets only bury one deeper into the darkness. I write myself out of the darkness when I get depressed and when I am feeling manic I write poems, work on other creative projects, I create posts for my blog “the secret keeper.” It keeps me alive and gives me something to do that makes me feel I am contributing to changing the way things are seen and maybe making something new recognized as a possibility.

Depression is a serious issue and a difficult state of mind that overwhelms the persons who experience it. Suicide is often the solution chosen by those who cannot tolerate the pain any longer. It is a wretched state to be in. The darkness surrounds you and pulls you under so deep, you feel like you will be smothered by the need to destroy yourself, to rip yourself apart. It makes me angry there is so little understanding of how devastating the feelings are when you are overwhelmed by depression. How anyone can tell you to control it, you have not reason to feel depressed. It is as though they feel you have any control. To think where you are in life or how much you have or how rich you might be, should make it impossible for you to feel depressed. Like those things have anything to do with it.

All the treasures of the world cannot stop depressions from happening. If they are holding on to you, you have to let the depression works its way out of you. It doesn’t do it by command. Meds don’t always effect it. With myself, they do absolutely nothing. I’ve tried so many different pills and combinations, I got tired of my brain feeling like it was being held under sedation and water at the same time. The ability to think was null and void. At least with depression, if one struggles, it is a creative tool with great depth. If one is able to channel the energy of depression, the creative muse delivers gifts of such depth, one would not expect to find while feeling so destructive towards one’s self. It opens up a magic doorway to knowledge not available through any other source.

I am not advocating for depression. But using it while it is punishing you, have benefits you won’t find any other time. I would let go of the depression if it were possible, even with what is produced from within the depth of their darkness. There are things in the dark one needs sometimes to find for a better understanding of life.

So speak out to end the stigma. Help people to understand what depression feels like. Talk to everyone who will listen. End the oppression from the outside to help the depression inside of you.  by Jennifer Kiley

smoky light leads to center light of universewhite light luring the spirit away

Related Site: You Can NOT Be Replaced: LINK

Related Site: Alone In the Darkness: LINK

Private Writings: Chapter #26 — Wizardry of Id

private writings by jennifer kileyPrivate Writings: Chapter #26 — Wizardry of Id
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
Published Introduction & Chapter #1 On 19th March 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted On 17th September 2013

WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS.
ANYONE RESEMBLING ANYONE LIVING OR DEAD
IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

Crypticistic Synopsis:

I am writing to Dr. Annie Haskell. My form of storytelling is through letters containing dreams, thoughts, poems, music, describing my script ‘Brief Sacrifice,’ already made into a film but not yet released, psychotherapy, inspirations, reflective comments, the inner workings of the mind, soul, body, emotions, and bipolar. I prefer mentally creative, interesting, or having a brain misfiring. Included in the mix are childhood abuse, car crashes, near drownings, drugs [the illegal kind at present], hallucinations, hypersexuality, time warps, finding answers to unsolved mysteries, infatuation, imagination, fantasy,

and a need to discover my bliss.
See you inside.
— Namaste! Madison Taylor

Private Writings: Chapter #26 — Wizardry of Id

Tuesday 18th March 2008

Dear Annie,

I have been feeling like I am close to the edge. Shortly, after leaving our session, remembering what we talked about triggered an awful reaction inside of me. My psyche is in a full blown depression. Talking about Dr. George, feeling like he was raping me, making me have to be in a room with him again. He forced me. If I didn’t I would have lost you before I even had a chance to find you. He had no right to dangle you as a piece of candy. I submit and get raped. I say no, I lose you. How is that acceptable for a therapist to repeat my abuse on me so I will get the attention I need so badly. Why did you let him do that? Now I feel suicidal. The darkness is surrounding me. It feels like the shadow creatures in “Ghost.” They are going to pull me into Hell. Any moment I am going to be forced to kill myself.

You should have stopped him. Never agreed to his terms. Just accepted me and told him to go fuck off. I didn’t deserve to be forced, when I already made it clear I didn’t want to do what he wanted. How should I feel? How can I react any differently? Now, I am having my doubts. Are you going to protect me from my nightmares? Keep them away from my dreams? I have imagined being with you, doing therapy the right way for so long. I never thought you would be part of terms from him in order for me to be with you. Should I be disappointed or feel lucky? I got my dream therapist. Or so it seems.

You did protect me in the closure session, but I shouldn’t have had to be there. It made me furious. I felt you held me inside your power. You threw up a protective shield. I felt it. But he was there, too close, so creepy. I couldn’t look at him. My skin crawled. He was looking at me firing off lies. Just like my shadow mother did many years ago.

When I was a teenager. She came to one of my sessions with my first therapist. In front of me, she spoke words coated with black tar. All lies. Professed she had no idea what I was talking about when I said I was tortured by her. She denied ever doing anything to me. At that point, I wasn’t about to tell her about my other abusers. It was sufficient to try to confront her with my therapist to protect me. In the last moments of her presence in my therapist’s office, I just lost it. I couldn’t stand hearing the lies for a minute longer. I fired off at her a list which grew in my head since I was little, of all the abuses she committed on my flesh, my mind, my emotions. I had to cut myself off. It was a painting without a canvas to record the truth. She shook her head in denial. Making it seem to my therapist I was making the whole tale up in my imagination.

After my therapist returned from escorting her back to the waiting area, she took a seat at her desk and looked at me. All I could say to her was I am not crazy. I wasn’t lying. Her response: “Your mother is crazy. Of course, I believe you. She was lying or had buried what she had done so deep, she believed her lies. It is quite possible if she had remembered her abusing you in the horrible way she did, it would literally drive her over the edge into complete madness. It is enough she is borderline, with one step inside of madness.”

Her words reassured me I was actually sane. She told me if I was going to “lose my mind,” it would have happened while I was doing all the LSD and smoking pot. I did have grand hallucinations and moments when I thought I had lost touch with reality. LSD really can make you feel paranoid. What the fuck I was thinking, doing hallucinogens. I put them into my body. I will stop short at doing mushrooms. They are a spiritual experience. I read the whole “Bhagavad Gita” while tripping. Whoa, that books takes you to such heights of deep awareness. I felt Bliss. True Bliss. That was a worthy experience.

Annie, writing to you or just writing has made me feel a bit better. Why do people fuck with other people’s minds and lives?

I think I am freaking a little because I told you today about my letters and poems. They have been my secret for so long. Revealing I wrote to you made me feel too vulnerable. You want me to bring them to my sessions and to read you some of what I write, especially the poems. You, also, liked I was telling you the story from my script for Scottie and my film “Brief Sacrifice.” The idea of a secret society guarding Nikola Tesla’s secrets. The thought of a perfect Utopia. If anyone could pull off setting up something so grand “Tesla” could. I didn’t tell you what is in the Silver Box. I am not sure I should reveal the secret. It would ruin the mystery of the film.

It is such a cool secret. I will give you a hint. “Anywhere is possible, as long as it has happened already, somewhere in time.”

Can you guess from this clue?

I think I will write my poem for you. See if I can shake the rest of these feelings of the shadows surrounding me. Wanting to do harm to me or wanting me to do harm to myself.

I want you to know I want to trust you. What you did with him, felt like a betrayal. You conspired to force me to give in against my will and better judgement. I am not sure it will be easy for me to get past it. We need to work on not forcing me into something I don’t want to do. When I say “No,” I need to be respected. Words meant nothing to my abusers, especially the words, “NO” and “STOP.”

I am going to close the letter portion here and continue on to write my feelings into a poem. Maybe, I will better express what is happening inside my mind and heart, I do have strong feelings building up and putting pressure on my psyche. You are my wizard now. You must help me understand myself. Why I am unable to let go of my feelings, what am I feeling, and what the hell drives me. The highest concern in my head is why I cannot enjoy anything that would bring pleasure to anyone else.

Wish me luck on writing a poem for you, Annie. If it is going to be my first, I want you to see inside of me.

I am signing out on my letter to you.

Fondly,
Madison

Annie Haskell --- Madison Tayler's Psychoanalyst's Office

Dr. Annie Haskell’s Office as a Psychoanalyst

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

lily open pink purple mix

rain in garden gif

Of Highest Concern
By Madison Taylor
18th March 2008

Intruder thrusts knife
Pressure pierces deep in flesh
Sensations of pain spreading

Bleeding stills body
Force penetrates privacy
Ripping away self-control

Will overpowers
Trembling from intensity
Inner strength halts invasion

© madison taylor 2008

rookie wood  2013  artist paul wood

“A Dream
The beginning always starts out
With a dream.
It is all a dream
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

Patrick is our Bengal cat in tree. He loves Scotties. They are buddies.   1612x1212

Patrick-our Bengal cat up in his tree-Scottie’s buddy

Havana Brown Kitten  Madison and Scottie's kitten One of the Two   800x600

Havana Brown Kitten Madison & Scottie’s. This cutie is Toker. He has a twin brother Mikey

bedroom perfect high windows light

play is not just play meryl streep