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

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

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.


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 Moments #54 : No Restrictions

private moments in paintings & poetry
Private Moments #54: No Restrictions
Poem by Jennifer Kiley
Painting by Jk McCormack
Post Created 10th March 2014
Posted On Monday 24th March 2014

Private Writings: Chapter #54 — I Feel Fine

The Brain Processing Madness (c) JkM 2008

The Brain Processing Madness (c) JkM 2008

“For that fine madness still he did retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.”
~Michael Drayton~

hands reaching out into rain

No Restrictions
Poem by Madison Taylor
16th September 2008

Play word games backwards
No restrictions has madness
Keen minds dividing

© Madison Taylor 2008

candle flame flickering gif
Theme to Film: Somewhere in Time – John Barry

garden waterfall private gazebo overgrown 4pmip&p “Doorway to a Place of Enchantment”

*     *      *      *      *      *      *

“Creating is having the courage
to allow the seer into the private
moments of our imaginative lives.”
— JkM the secret keeper
aka Jennifer Kiley McCormack

*      *      *      *      *      *      *

On Being Just Crazy Enough

tell me a story
On Being Just Crazy Enough
TED Talk: Joshua Walters
Strange Answers To the Psychopath Test
TED Talk: Jon Ronson
Notations by Jennifer Kiley
Created Sunday 11th August 2013
Posted Thursday 29th August 2013

Comedian Joshua Walters, who’s bipolar, walks the line between mental illness and mental “skillness.” In this funny, thought-provoking talk, he asks: What’s the right balance between medicating craziness away and riding the manic edge of creativity and drive?

Joshua Walters: On Being Just Crazy Enough

Is there a definitive line that divides crazy from sane? With a hair-raising delivery, Jon Ronson, author of The Psychopath Test, illuminates the gray areas between the two. (With live-mixed sound by Julian Treasure and animation by Evan Grant.)

Jon Ronson: Strange Answers To the Psychopath Test

Sometimes You Just Feel Invisible

a divider for post no. 5 love fav new one thinner

Sometimes You Just Feel Invisible
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrations of Family Companion Animals
Photographs by Shawn MacKenzie
Post Created Wednesday 17th July 2013
Posted On Saturday 20th July 2013
X-Treme Haiku Saturday

Schroeder-the Jekyll & Hyde of Cats-kisses & snuggles switching instantaneously to bites & growls. And then there's Saki-our Amazon Parrot-my protector-she bites me when she thinks I am in danger. OUCH!!! One of her satisfactions is when she imitates Snoopy on his Sopwith Camel dive-bombing The Red Baron-in this instance replace TRB with Shawn-cannot get near me when Saki is sitting on my shoulder or near me in anyway. A true love/hate relationship with Shawn who gives her peanut treats whenever Saki asks. Now look at the love between S & S. It is a labour of love. In this photograph, Saki has only just started to fly over to us. Her life before us was trauma filled & neglect. Loved Shawn first but switched over to me. Now we are symbiotic & copacetic & share everything-Food & Love & Snuggles & I get a Heroic Protector who sleeps/sits on me when I write or doing anything at all. A Love Note for My Two Favorite Cuddlers.  1280x960

Schroeder-the Jekyll & Hyde of Cats-kisses & snuggles switching instantaneously to bites & growls. And then there’s Saki-our Amazon Parrot-my protector-she bites me when she thinks I am in danger. OUCH!!! One of her satisfactions is when she imitates Snoopy on his Sopwith Camel dive-bombing The Red Baron-in this instance replace TRB with Shawn-cannot get near me when Saki is sitting on my shoulder or near me in anyway. A true love/hate relationship with Shawn-who gives her peanut treats whenever Saki asks. Now look at the love between S & S. It is a labour of love. In this photograph-Saki has only just started to fly over to us. Her life before us was trauma filled & neglect. Loved Shawn first but switched over to me. Now we are symbiotic & copacetic. We share everything-Food-Love & Snuggles. I get an Heroic Protector who sleeps/eats/sits/snuggles/dances on me when I write or do anything. A Love Note for My Two Favorite Cuddlers. Kisses-Jk [One of Their Two Mums] ps. I am not Invisible to them. They need me as I need them & want me in their lives.

Sometimes You Just Feel Invisible
By Jennifer Kiley
17th July 2013

Sometimes you just feel
Invisible no sight no
Depth of shape no dimensions

Vision forward moves
Past forgotten locked in lost
Memories committed done

Frozen locked in time
Tripping tricking psyche deep
Confusion delusions thoughts

Trapping murderers
Vanquish shadows’ reflection
Innocence stolen destroyed

Perversion alive
Evil plans continue then
New images prevailing

Subconscious nightmares
Dreams retold when awakened
Bulldozers crashing breaking

Home protects safe place
Breathe panic out with symptoms
Expand light growing healing

© Jk 2013

Lakme-Delibes: Flower Duet — Joan Sutherland
Combining Art With Love
— Music Video — All Digital Art Created by Jennifer Kiley

a divider for post no. 5 love fav new one thinner

Soul’s Comedy

a divider for post no. 5 love fav new one

Soul’s Comedy
X-treme Haiku by Jennifer Kiley
Created Friday 5th July 2013
Abstract Digital Art by j. kiley
Posted Saturday 6th July 2013

soul's comedy by j. kiley © jennifer kiley 2013   716x543

soul’s comedy by j. kiley © jennifer kiley 2013

Rising Spirit
X-treme Haiku
By Jennifer Kiley
Friday 5th July 2013

Awakening words
Slow motion quick reaction
Waiting needs reassurance

Darkness echoes screams
Wails release in death’s lament
Hands pressing skull screaming ends

Time slips laughter starts
Responding smile vanishes
Forming balance bends sideways

Claw upward to view
Crash downward head cracks open
Bleeding wounded covers scars

Fucking words talking
Anger buried real nightmares
Shameful needs must want loving

Broken hearts longing
Vulnerability true
Joyful river flowing through

Awaken faith new
Heart touches soul love enters
Sweet song of rising spirit

© jennifer kiley 2013

Camille Saint-Saëns – Danse Macabre


“In that book which is my memory,
On the first page of the chapter
that is the day when I first met you,
Appear the words, ‘Here begins a new life’.”
― Dante Alighieri, Vita Nuova

“The mind which is created quick to love,
is responsive to everything that is pleasing,
soon as by pleasure it is awakened into activity.
Your apprehensive faculty draws an impression from a real object,
and unfolds it within you, so that it makes the mind turn thereto.
And if, being turned, it inclines towards it, that inclination is love;
that is nature, which through pleasure is bound anew within you.”
― Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy

“The more a thing is perfect,
the more if feels pleasure and pain.”
― Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy

“I found myself within a forest dark,
for the straightforward pathway had been lost.
Ah me! How hard a thing is to say,
what was this forest savage, rough, and stern,
which in the very thought renews the fear.
So bitter is it, death is little more…”
― Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy

“There is no greater sorrow
than to recall happiness in times of misery.”
― Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy

“When any of our faculties retains a strong impression of delight or pain,
the soul will wholly concentrate on that, neglecting any other power it has;
and thus, when something seen or heard secures the soul in stringent grip,
time moves and yet we do not notice it.” ― Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy

“Those ancients who in poetry presented the golden age,
who sang its happy state, perhaps, in their Parnassus,
dreamt this place. Here, mankind’s root was innocent;
and here were every fruit and never-ending spring;
these streams–the nectar of which poets sing.”
― Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy

a divider for post no. 5 love fav new one

The Power of Vulnerability

tell me a story
The Power of Vulnerability
TED Talk:
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Created 3rd July 2013
Posted Thursday 4th July 2013

Celebration Follows Video!!!

THE POWER OF VULNERABILITY is Quite Good. Listen Carefully. Take It To Heart.

Brené Brown: The power of vulnerability
June 2010 — She is a real storyteller. Fascinating to listen to. Tells a good story.

Now for Independence Day in the US
Noise to Scare Animals
Always Fireworks To Scare The Animals Without Fail

Veggie Burger w/ Vegetables on It For Me. More Vegetables in the Form of Fries & Potato Salad on the Side. I don’t think we exactly thought that one through all the way. Fries & P.S. Hmmm? Coke. No Not That Kind. Which Kind Did You Think I Meant When I Said Not That Kind? Just Curious. The Kind I Am Talking About Gives Me A Buzz. What Kind Were You Thinking? Mine Is Not White. It’s Brown. Dark Brown.

Now Shawn Hadn’t As of Now Decided What She Wants. Probably A Salad with Vegetables. Maybe Beer. I’ll Tell Her She Should Treat Herself. Maybe There Will Be Some Guacamole. Saki, Our Parrot Not Allowed. Poisonous.

Me, If I Need It — Two Shots of Jose Cuervo with Salt & Lime Slices. My Therapist Gave Me A Verbal Prescription. Tequila Is As Close To Drugs Without Taking Drugs. That Statement Is Deja Vu. I Said That A Long Time Ago. It Just Re-echoed In the Now.


How About Some Fireworks???

London Fireworks 2012 in full HD – New Year Live – BBC One

Bonnie Tyler — I Need A Hero

GREAT SCENE: V for Vendetta (finale)

Making Love Out of Nothing At All — Bonnie Tyler

And Now For A Lesson
In The Power of Vulnerability.
It Is Not A Fault
To Be Vulnerable.
Opening One To Feelings
And Love
And Intimacy

Being Rejected Can Hurt
When You Allow Yourself
To Be Vulnerable
And The Other Person
Turns Away Or Runs Away.
One Takes Chances
And Surrenders

A Bipolar Moment
When A Dark Stormy Night
Can Be Just That
And Fear Fills Your Being
All Seems To Have Disappeared
It Is The Night After All
The Universe Is Empty

English novelist Iris Murdoch said,
“Love is the very difficult understanding
that something other than yourself is real.”

“I use to feel completely alone
At night in the Great Massive Universe.
Feeling alone in the Universe
Is very scary
And can be quite terrifying.
Only through the continuous reassurances
From those who loved me
And I loved in return
Did I start accepting
The realization that when I was alone
There were still other persons
In the Universe
And they loved me.”
Jennifer Kiley
— Letters of Import:
Private Writings to a Psychoanalyst

Well Last Night
Was One Of Those Nights
I Felt Completely Alone
And I Didn’t Feel
Like Anyone Was Out There.
I Felt This Way Instead
In The Following Words
Maybe It Is A Poem
Or Just Words Reaching Out
On A Dark Stormy Night
While Having A Bipolar

It Is A Dark Night.
The Knife Is In My Chest.
My Heart Is Bleeding
And The Wound Won’t Heal.
My Life Is In Your Hands.
Don’t Let Me Slip Away
Into Oblivion.
One Can’t Return
From There.
It Is A One Way Trip.
Small Comfort
For Those
Who Are
To Travel.




Healing Thoughts for the People of the World

Private Writings: Chapter #16 — Aggravating Behavior

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013
Private Writings: Chapter #16 — Aggravating Behavior
Written by Jennifer Kiley
Illustrated by j. kiley
First Published March 19th 2013
Published Early Tuesday AM
Posted 2nd July 2013


Private Writings: Chapter #16 — Aggravating Behavior

Tuesday January 15th, 2008

Dear Annie,

I think Annie, I know why I wrote such an emotionally intense letter last week. It is Amelie. Her joining the therapy group last week really disarmed me. There was no notice or warning of a new member starting the first of the year. Our glorious leader, Dr. George, yes, I am using his given name, fuck Mr. Xxx, he deserves to be identified. He failed to ask whether we wanted someone new.

Seems the Doctor wants full control or he would have mentioned her and not made the decision on his own. This group has full rights to decide if someone joins at any time. Writing this is not to complain about Amelie. She mesmerizes me. It is Dr. George’s lack of inquiry with us. To late, it’s done. Not appropriately, but déjà fait. He bloody displeases me, not Alison.

Amelie triggers memories of Tosh. Their resemblance is beyond uncanny. And her boldness is refreshing. No hesitation to proclaim herself a lesbian. But I saw her depth of attraction and knew. Sensed it in her gaze when her eyes caught mine, in a timeless moment. Her eyes were steady. All I knew was the feeling from Amelie felt as though Tosh’s eyes were loving me. The time portal opened to the past.

Who is Amelie? Where did she come from? And why now? The pressure is building up inside of me. Not sure I’m handling it well. I feel like my world is about to explode. Flashing on Tosh’s murder. Getting attached to you. Not knowing if I will lose you if this all crash and burns. Now Amelie, a ghost, a practical joke, Dr. George, the bastard, is fucking with me. He knows what Tosh looks like, and magically Amelie springs up.

I’m sure you’ve notices the group is in disaster mode. Dying and almost dead as Jacob Marley’s Ghost. It’s in a retrograde of self-destruction. Hold it together, Annie, please, just long enough, or it will disintegrate by the hand of Machiavelli, himself, Dr. George. Maybe it should self-destruct. Solves one major problem. Poof! Dr. George disappears. So does everyone else in this miserable group. Exceptions are Amelie and Kristina. Soon, I will tell you about Kristina. Right now, I’m just waiting for Mount Vesuvius to erupt. That would be Brad, my totally rad alter. He’s not afraid of anyone. Plus he promised me Dr. George is going down. Soon. The time is near.

He sucks as a analyst. He’s not deserving of the honour of calling him a psychoanalyst or doctor. What a joke. He’s so out of touch, I don’t think he knows he’s treating clients. But, it’s his job to listen. Instead, he monopolizes a session by telling his own stories. It’s negligence and even worse, his stories are sexually perverse, going into detail about gay male sex. Please do not misunderstand, I am not homophobic. That’s not it, it’s that he tells these stories to me, when we are alone. I am a lesbian client, I emphasize, and an abuse survivor . His other clients, some share similar backgrounds. I, certainly, have no desire to hear about balls, or a man’s prick. Who the fuck wants to hear that kind of bull shit.

His sense of protocol is fucking aggravating. It’s inappropriate. Clearly sexual harassment, he thrusts upon female sexual abuse survivors. Having my analyst compound his ignorance with the subject at all is disgusting and depraved. The only appropriate time would be if I were talking about an abuser raping me. Enough with the perverse humour. Dr. George’s list of disgusting behavior grows longer, probably unlike his dick. It’s not my thing. Being raped by pricks do not make lesbians appreciate the existence of dicks, nor do they fantasize hearing about them or seeing them. Does he forget or not understand that element of our experiences?

I just need to end my therapy with him completely. His relationship with me is a travesty. He’s outrageous, obnoxious and destructive in our private sessions. Plainly, he is just a disappointment. He doesn’t even pretend any longer not to support me. He sides with his pets in the group, particularly Angie, who gets on my last nerve. I dread seeing them both. And God forbid I should question her intentions or prejudices or anyone elses.

In a private session, only recently, when I accused Angie, his precious fucking pet snake of being a homophobe and racist, he came down on me, accusing me of being cruel and unfeeling. His evil seethed through his teeth as he tried destroying me with his words. Turning me in on myself, made me out to be the insensitive one. Every fiber and muscle in my body struggled with my mind, trying to walk out in the middle of his vicious outbreak of rage, but instead stillness set in. His verbal abuse caused such extreme fright, I became catatonic.

That was the final time I ever intend to allow him to rape my mind again. Next time, instead of facing me down, he will meet Brad, in his fully engaged rage. Dr. George will finally be laid out. Don’t worry, no one is going to do violence. But I would definitely make a grand exit, quite Gloria Swanson, but with a male flair and the burst of a fiery rage. And it truly would be the last one. You will know it and you will hear it, when it is over.

A word of encouragement from you, Annie, would help push me over that line to find my courage. His condescension in our private sessions should be enough. But I am too insecure to terminate without feeling support to catch me. An abusive relationship has gradually been created with him and I did not stop it when I realized what was happening. I let it take over my world. He makes me feel like the abusers did. I float on the ceiling to escape him and become powerless.

It always bothered me that he reminded me of an abuser. He used transference in place of accepting his role in creating my feelings of insecurity and making me feel I wasn’t seeing what I felt as being accurate. He was being abusive, constantly undermining my sense of identity and confidence. My belief in trusting my own feelings. My writing came to almost a stand still after starting to see him. My soul felt strangled. My muse abandoned me for an indefinite length of time. I fell into the deepest depression. Started having increasingly stronger panic and anxiety attacks and the depression led to feeling suicidal most of the time. How many times I felt so close to the edge, were far too many.

Just the thought that the next day I would have to see him freaked me out. I would start to shake and found it hard to breathe. He would rationalize it by saying I was afraid of therapy and what disturbing memories might come up. Bull shit. He is such a fuck head and liar. He wanted to have power over me. Sound familiar, it is exactly what abusers do to the children they abuse. Win their confidence and then slowly undermine their sense of self as an independent person, until the abuser can do anything they want with their prize possessions. Does he get his kicks having power over his clients, controlling them and how they feel inside. Making them want to kill themselves. Life and death. What an ultimate power trip.

Somehow, Scottie broke through the barrier.It was built up high and strong to protect myself. She fought with me to see reality. That I was having delusional thinking. For years she has driven me insane with her persistent urges to get me to stop seeing him. Deep inside I knew she was trying to protect me, but I was too frightened to walk away. I felt too crazy and feared leaving him would cause me to completely lose my mind. Talk about control or confusion. What was I letting him do to me? What was I doing to myself staying with him? Fear is my only excuse or reason. Terror. I was too terrified to live or to leave. Life was too frightening. I trembled at the thought of being part of the world. Going out. Being around people. Pure panic.

Now I want to make him disappear and group to end. Working with you, Annie, would be a great alternative. There is only one thing that would be fucked up if this all collapsed, which it will. Amelie, if it all ends, she would be gone. How will I be able to get to know her. There has got to be a way to make some kind of personal connection before it happens. Everything will crumble when I confront him. Not sure exactly when and how I’m going to do it. But it will happen and I’ve got to be lethal.

I don’t want Amelie to go away. It may seem odd. I met her last week, I’ve seen her twice. Yet, there is an intense need to know her. Jennie Fields, a character I love from the John Irving book, The World According to Garp, says this two word phrase. It cracks me up. She would look someone straight in the eyes and seriously state, “It’s lust.” As simple as that. “It’s lust.” I am in lust with Amelie. It’s a really strong attraction. Not something I have any way of explaining but say I am attracted to her.

Well, fuck it if I am. Amelie rocks my world at this very moment. Nothing wrong with those feelings. But, seriously, it feels more meaningful than an orgasmic connection. She reminds me of Tosh. I can’t let that go. There is something between us. I’m not letting her walk into my life so fucking briefly and not have a say as she walks back out again.

Don’t you think she’s awesome. She has me awestruck. I am numb in the brain. My feelings are all muttled around her. I can’t think or speak in a complete sentence without tangling up the words. You noticed that, I’m sure. It’s embarrassing, especially in front of that group from the vicious circle.

We need to figure this all out. I need your help, Annie. Please, let me assure you, do not worry about Scottie. She understands my bipolar. I have attractions but I can’t do anything about them. In due time, I will explain what Scottie fully knows about me. I don’t share with many this secret. That’s why Scottie trusts me.

Before I end my letter, I want to remind you of the secret from a few letters ago. Lets end this letter on a mysterious but still high note. It involves Scottie’s new film. Mine, too. Still working on finalizing the title. I don’t know what the problem is with making a decision. I liked my choice but can’t tell you yet. Maybe next time I’ll have a go.

But that’s not what I want to tell you. I, actually, want to tell you a bit more about the film. I’d like to sound it out on you further. See if it sounds like a good script. Would love the feedback. How about if I write a touch about it each week. A sneak preview when I remember. That would benefit me too. I would hear what it is that I have created. Bounce it off of you. Maybe I will feel more confident about my work.

In review, I remember telling you the lead character is a novelist, the character’s name, I will tell in a future letter. She is quite the brilliant writer. What else did I tell you. I lost it. Sorry. That’s all I remember from the other letter. Have a terrible memory, even for what I write.

Well, let me continue. She is a literary novelist, mixed with a touch of the psychological element and a dabble of mystery. Her problem is she can’t find a publisher. Just finds rejection notices in her mailbox but doesn’t give up. She keeps sending out her novels. She’s accumulated several manuscripts already. If it weren’t for the Estate her Grandmother left her after she died, our author wouldn’t be able to afford the luxury of being a full time writer. The wonderful home she lives in, with her three babies, was her grandmother’s home. You’ll meet the babies later. She spent many weeks there, every summer, when growing up. It was her favorite place on the planet.

One weekend, she goes to an Estate Sale. While rummaging around, she finds a briefcase. It’s an old leather one with a broken lock, jammed shut, with no way to look inside. She made the decision, it looked mysterious. Her thought was, it would be a great place to store her latest manuscript. She purchased it, not even sure she will ever be able to open it, ever. But she thought, if she was unsuccessful, it would make a great decoration, plus an uncanny inspiration for her writing room. It would add to the old English decor. But, she was certain, being quite a stubborn woman herself, she wouldn’t give up without a real attempt to break it open. It wasn’t her intention to give up trying that easily.

After returning home from a long drive, once in the house, she placed her new find on the dining room table while she went to feed the cats. The three, of them, practically knocked her down, when she came in the front door. Once Jasper, Jax and James were fed, the three young neutered male Savannah cats, spotted like leopards, enormous in size, all settled down in the family room. Snuggling, each in their special place, taking up most of the stuffed, soft, velvet sofa. They waiting for their Mum, while she fixed herself a quick bite to eat, for her own early dinner.

She was hurrying. Her curiosity wanted to get cracking on breaking inside her new acquisition. It may be old, but it was heavy, and definitely felt the weight of being filled with something, maybe a treasure of unknown value, so she fantasized. “Why would someone just abandon this briefcase? It gave off the vibe of containing something of value”

The answer would be found out soon enough. Carrying the briefcase under her left arm, and a plate, with a simple meal of salad and cheese, in her right hand, she joined her babies, Jasper, Jax and James, in the family room. She got cozy, finding her spot on the sofa, snuggling amongst her soft, sweet babies.

She studied the briefcase on the coffee table as she ate, and shared treats with her brood. Her imagination began to wander. It filled up with all sorts of magical imagery. What would she find? What should she wish for? Money or something more imaginative?

That’s where I’ll end it for this week. I want to keep you wondering.

Until next time.


ATTENTION ANNIE: At this moment I am not trying to be a coward, but I feel if I hold back now or never send this to you, I am freeing myself up to write whatever without censorship. On some future date, if trust grows, I will release my letters to you. What I write in honesty, I will keep confidential. On my honour, no others shall see these pages.
Madison Taylor

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

rain in garden gif

Reaching Out
Written by Madison Taylor
January 14th 2008

Reaching out a hand with a flower in it
Is not verging upon hysteria waiting for a sign
Has life frightened away wanting tenderness
Or the fragile one who is patiently waiting
Will a response be returned in recognition
Of a genuine gesture of love and friendship
Or does the heart identify with one of those characters
Wanting and needing attention who will be lost without it
In the wilderness of lost dreams and nightmares
Forever wandering wondering what was missed
What path was it meant to take but turned the other way

Reaching for the stars shining high up in the darkness
The farthest thing away from reaching a heart desired
Turning around and going deep inside the soul
There is where the heart will find a resting place
Part of all in the world have turned away
Losing all sense of day or night or play
Talk for a moment about all the dreams
Seeking them takes the mind away from finding them
They are before the eyes right here inside the soul
Inside of every thought and feeling the heart possesses
Out there is only the illusion of what will not be found

© madison taylor 2008

candle flame flickering gif

CREAM: WHITE ROOM — Theme Song #16 For Private Writings: Chapter #16 — Aggravating Behavior

le chateau de rocher by j. kiley (c) jennifer kiley 2013   824x552Le Chateau de Rocher is the home of Madison and Scottie & their three cats Mikey, Toker and Patrick

the white room  768x776

The White Room

QUOTATIONS from: Private Writings

“A Dream

The beginning always starts out with a dream.
It is all a dream
And we are all players
In our own nightmares”
— Madison Taylor

“For that fine madness still he did retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.”
~Michael Drayton~

“Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?”
Christopher Marlowe for “Hero and Leander”

“A therapeutic relationship is often more psycho-emotionally intimate than a marriage, or a romantic attachment. I know things about my patients that they would never dream of revealing to their spouses or families. Why is that? One word — trust. If you do not have a connection with a therapist, you cannot trust them. If you do not have trust, you will not expose yourself, and if you do not expose your innermost being, what good is the therapy?” — unknown but ask any great therapist

“Men have called me mad, but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence…whether much that is glorious–whether all that is profound–does not spring from disease of thought…” — Edgar Allan Poe


“Never hide things from hardcore thinkers. They get more aggravated, more provoked by confusion than the most painful truths.” ― Criss Jami

“He is being nibbled to death by ducks. –More Later, Less the Same” ― James Tate, Selected Poems

“I suppose an analyst not getting that you are the client and he should be listening to you, not telling his own stories and being sexually perverse talking about gay sex with a lesbian who has not desire to hear about balls, and not the kind you find being tossed about on a playground, but the kind that go with the package of junk men have. Don’t misunderstand, a cliche, but one of my best friends is a gay male. This is aggravating and if I thought about, it also borders on inappropriate behavior and sexual harassment. Michael Fassbender can show his junk. It is actually quite lovely, but I don’t want my analyst going anywhere near that subject unless I am talking about an abuser raping me. Enough said.” — Madison Taylor, Letters of Import: Aggravating Behavior 16

“I suppose I have found it easier to identify with the characters who verge upon hysteria, who were frightened of life, who were desperate to reach out to another person. But these seemingly fragile people are the strong people really.” — Tennessee Williams

“When you reach for the stars, you are reaching for the farthest thing out there. When you reach deep into yourself, it is the same thing, but in the opposite direction. If you reach in both directions, you will have spanned the universe.” — ― Vera Nazarian

play is not just play meryl streep