Special Edition: Niamh Clune—Orange Petals in a Storm

special edition day any

orange petals in the stormOrange Petals in a Storm
Written by Niamh Clune
Post Created by Jk the secret keeper
Posted On Wednesday 18th September 2013
SPECIAL EDITION

april thomas  ascension artist group

Check the above site out. April Thomas Blog “Ascension Artist Group” feature authors. Particularly, look for the post featuring Niamh Clune, talking about her foundations in life and her desire to write. The book she is featuring is “Orange Petals in a Storm.” A fantasy of a young girl who loses everything when her mother dies. At the beginning of the book she is running through the rain to reach the home she lived in with her mother.

From there the adventure goes back in time to recall all Skyla McFee had to endure and the magic she discovered in her imagination which helped in a huge way to help her cope with the situation she found herself stuck in. Read the book to find out what materializes from within Skyla McFee’s imagination. It will surprise you, delight you, and hold your attention to the very last page.

I have followed the author, Niamh Clune, from the first day I became aware of her genius in the use of words and language. Five stars, I give to all her books. Another of which is “The Coming of the Feminine Christ,” a book of truth, an amazing confrontation with an angel in the middle of a Virgin Forrest, [she wasn’t alone when she witness the materialization with the Angel ], it was profound for all, but a message was transmitted into Dr. Clune’s mind, a message meant for all of mankind. We need to change our ways or all will be lost.

There are many more offerings in this amazing book, which will open up your mind to other understandings. “The Coming of the Feminine Christ” is right up there with “Orange Petals in a Storm” as a Five Star Book.

Niamh Clune is a brilliant writer and poet, excelling in everything she sets her mind to and oh, what a brilliant mind. Her soul and heart shine through in all that she writes and all she does.

Do check out this site and search out the post on the author Niamh Clune. It, also, gives you locations where you can purchase these marvelous books. Also, see below for those link.

We all need “Orange Petals in a Storm” and “The Coming of the Feminine Christ” in our reading collections. Once you have read them once, you will want to repeat the experience. Written by Jennifer Kiley — Jk the secret keeper

Behind The Books Featured Author: Niamh Clune [Find Here]
Niamh Clune: Posted on Tuesday, September 17, 2013 12:59 PM

You will find Orange Petals In A Storm Find Here

The Coming Of The Feminine Christ
Find Here

And my children’s books are on the plum tree books web-site

Motion Set At Confusion

Motion Set At Confusion
Written By Jennifer Kiley
Written On 9th August 2013
Post Created by Jk the secret keeper
Illustrated by j. kiley
Post Created Friday 9th August 2013
Posted on Saturday 10th August
POETRY OUT LOUD

Abstract Fluid Acrylic Art by Mark Chadwick 855x960

Abstract Fluid Acrylic Art by Mark Chadwick

Motion Set At Confusion
By Jennifer Kiley
9th August 2013

Motion set at confusion
Blurring the thinker
With muddled perceptions
Visions not thought
Before clouding
The mind with fog
Opening doors
With no key holes
Entering rooms
Hiding memories

In stubbornness to be right
Distortions are recalled
Jumbled up feelings
Planting false senses
No attachments involved
Realities not real
Start stalking the truth
Hunting down lies
Destruction invented in minds

Vacate my head
Decease planting false visions
Leave reality alone
It belongs only to one
Desist in tampering
Playing psychic doctor
Credentials exceed limits
In this territory

Strength must be found
Undoing the damage caused
Tampering with beliefs
Complicate insecurities
With lies to protect lies
Begin the game of sacrifice
Trampling a person’s sanity
Darkness is blind evil
Match up exceeds power
Challenge has been accepted
Lost by resignation

Finally know identity
Words never can touch one
Whose strength exceeds any power of influence
Traps were set and sprung
Tested theories so weak
Allowed to enter the psyche
Chancing potential damage
Rescued before lies were set in stone
Fooling is not within power
Don’t see identity
Beyond authority
Power’s expanse
Its scope reaches farther limits
Will never touch with weakness

Power has been rejuvenated
After experiment failed to take hold
Bait was wasted
Practice on the weak
Shame on demonic demonstrations
The craven need for power
For total control
Letting go of the need to hold tight
Freedom is so much more enticing and inviting
The soul when free gives more to the dreamer
Without dreams are the broken ones
Healing and will continue to grow and heal
A continuous process learned through accepting
The serendipity of life and releasing the stronghold of death

When death comes will float into the ether
Until then will freely live life
Accept identity
All of one
Share with those love and trust
Love that grows within
That surrounds with sweetness
And renewal
Animals are the renewal of all things
The universe is a playground
Being alive
Accepting imperfections
Stop trying to steal identity
No longer welcome
In this world
It is over
Go away
Join the harmful ones
Trying to steal the innocent in all of us
You are a member of that gang now
Going to leave on life’s journey
You are not invited

© jennifer kiley 2013

“To Create Is To Destroy.”
— Jennifer Kiley-Letters of Import

Flamme Abstrait de Couleurs par j. kiley  (c) jennifer-kiley-2013  968x863

Flamme Abstrait de Couleurs par j. kiley © jennifer kiley 2013

Didn’t Know My Own Strength — Whitney Houston

Quotation for Confusion:

“The things other people have put into my head, at any rate, do not fit together nicely, are often useless and ugly, are out of proportion with one another, are out of proportion with life as it really is outside my head.”
― Kurt Vonnegut, Breakfast of Champions

You Are Not Alone — Michael Jackson

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

DreamWeaver’s Corner With Dr. Niamh Clune: The Magic of Indwelling.

the secret keeper:

DreamWeaver’s Corner with Dr. Niamh Clune is the place to visit if you want to learn the real truth about dreams. How to communicate with your soul through the symbols that come from the unconscious when you dream. There have been several posts so far that take you through many elements about dreams that you may have thought you knew but this is a whole different way of looking at what dreams really are. “We should not fear our images or emotions, even though they threaten to overwhelm us. This is the stuff of the unconscious…”Follow this reblog back to On The Plum Tree and read the most recent DreamWeaver’s Corner and if you find intriguing what you discover then investigate further to see previous posts of DreamWeaver’s Corner with Dr. Niamh Clune. While you are there you will also discover a wonderful source of creativity of all kinds. Investigate and find the artistic and magical and mystical. I highly recommend On The Plum Tree. I visit there all the time. Do take the time. You will value the opportunity and find art and enlightenment all at the same time. Jk the secret keeper

Originally posted on Plum Tree Books Blog:

HerculesSlayingHydra

What is the magic of indwelling and what do I mean by that? 
Dream language is symbol, metaphor, aphorism, expressed in images. Paradox is in-woven, threaded through every aspect of the image, the colour, atmosphere and quality. A dreamed or meditative image often shape-shifts. Understanding should be exciting and challenging, part of personal growth and self-discovery. Such images are Ariadne’s Threads leading us deep within Psyche into subterranean, unexpressed feelings and emotions.

For example: a bogey-man chasing us might be terrifying. We cannot run, escape or hide. A later visit to that image might, however, yield a moment of catharsis or enlightenment. This is where indwelling comes in. We cannot achieve a deep understanding of our image through observation or deduction. Only by entering into the soul of the image might we achieve recognition. Returning to an image consciously, we re-enter the moment of the dream, its raison d’etre, on…

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Private Writings: Chapter #4 — Welcome to My World Annie

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013
Private Writings: Chapter #4 — Welcome to My World Annie
By Jennifer Kiley
Written 03.31.13
Illustrated by j. kiley
First Posting 03.19.13
Posted Early Tuesday Morning
Posted on 9th April 2013
WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.

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

Private Writings: Chapter #4 — Welcome to My World Annie

Tuesday Oct. 23rd, 2007

Dear Annie

There are many things I would like to get to know about you but I am afraid I would be intruding on your privacy. I will guess instead or make up by filling in the spaces from what you say in group or afterwards. I am quite the detective. When I was a kid, I read all the Nancy Drew books I could get my hands on. Then as I got older I graduated to Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers. I read others but these two were my favorites and the most intelligent. I, also, got into the British detectives Inspectors Dagliesh and Morse on PBS. Liked reading P.D. James and Colin Dexter. I am a real mystery buff. Love a good mystery in a film, also. The point being I know how to put the pieces together rather quickly.

I should get on finishing up telling you about the cancer. The group, including Mr. Xxx were rather cavalier with my health when I received the diagnosis of Uterine cancer. It’s also called Endometrial cancer. When I got the courage up to tell the group I had been told I had cancer and they found out what kind, I felt like I got totally shot down and shut down. Everyone, including our fearless leader, thought it was the best possible news. Their logic being, if I was to get cancer, getting Uterine cancer was the best one to get. There was nothing to it. In and out for the operation and back on my feet in a couple of weeks. They were not very understanding or consoling at all. So, I think that had a lot to do with why I thoroughly shut down talking about it. I felt rejected. Like no one cared about me. I thought if I died it wouldn’t matter.

So, I started not taking it as seriously but still worried. Then My OB-Gyn told me it looked serious to her. My uterine wall was quite thick. It was a bad boxing day. That’s when she called to confirm the biopsy from the Uterine tissue she painfully scraped from the insides of my body. It was positive for cancer. Nice Christmas. She was great. She went out of her way to get the news to me as quickly as possible. Next step was to find the surgeon. It ended up being the Da Vinci
machine. State of the Art. Two weeks after surgery Scottie and I went to the surgeon behind the Da Vinci machine to get the results. He had us take seats on the other side of his rather large desk. He sat behind it looking like he was having a difficult time finding the words to say. His face wasn’t the kind anyone wants to see when they are waiting for news of this kind. We all looked at each other in the long silence. The doctor finally spoke.

He cleared his throat. “I am afraid I have some rather disturbing news for you, Madison. It seems the cancer has spread outside the containment area of your reproductive organs. It’s in your lymph system. The good news is that we feel and are quite certain that we took the lymph nodes that the cancer had entered. What this means is you have a diagnosis of Stage 3 Endometrial Cancer with an attachment to the lymphatic system. It means your case is a great deal more serious then we expected. Originally, we didn’t feel you would need anything more than the surgery. But now it appears after all you will have to go through a full treatment of Chemotherapy and a full course of Radiation Therapy Treatment that accompanies it. You will need to start almost immediately. Do you have any questions?”

I was dumbfounded and so was Scottie. It was going to really screw with her schedule. Not that she felt that was important at that moment. I thought it was and worried about it. I was trying to think about anything but what I had just heard. I was expecting to be cleared to go home and to continue on living my life in a normal way. With No more Cancer to worry about. Instead it had really only just started. I had just walked into a nightmare that was going to threaten my life from now on. I was never going to be safe from cancer again. From the moment my first doctor told me I would have to see a specialist, that was the beginning. I knew there was a reason I was avoiding it. My unconscious knew I was so god damn bloody sick. But I wasn’t going to listen to any of the signs. They weren’t going to tell me anything was wrong. Stubborn. Scottie kept telling me to call my doctor but I kept putting it off even though I was bleeding to death all the time.

Scottie and I left after we worked out a schedule for my treatment. It meant traveling over 3 hours every visit. That wasn’t going to work. I took the matters into my hands, especially after we would travel the distance for scheduled appointments and then wait there and find out after a few hours of waiting that we were not even on the schedule. I decided to find a place closer to home to receive treatments. They told me that would be impossible. They were wrong. I got on the phone the next day and before the afternoon was over I had a new oncologist. A new cancer center to go to and I could start right away with my treatments. All was transferred and it was a much quieter and comforting place.

End of the cancer saga for todays letter. Did not know I had that pent up inside of me. There is much more but I will keep spreading it out. It is more than I can deal with, so I can’t even imagine you, Annie, understanding what I was going through. No one can if they haven’t been through it. Truthfully, no empathizing will take you to the same place at all.

So, what I really wanted to talk about today was what has been happening inside me. More specifically, my feelings toward you. There’s just something that draws me into wanting to tell you everything. That must seem overwhelming I imagine. I started talk therapy when I was a teenager. It seems to have been converted into my confessional. My conversion into psychoanalysis. It’s a strong urge to understand my self. What’s the reason everything has happened the way it has. Why my life has been so fucked up. I need answers. I need to talk for all the years I was never allowed to. I was a silent child. I thought for quite some time that I was autistic. I was really convinced. I began studying autism in school. It seemed to fit all of my symptoms but I eventually figured out I was just a neglected and a severely abused child instead. Which was worse? I think both are.

Now I am living with another major setback attached to my psych problems. Have you ever heard of agoraphobia? Well, I am an agoraphobic who is not being treated and have never been treated for it or what it does for me except to have pills thrown at it. My fears are being allowed to grow. I don’t object because I don’’t want to experience the panic and anxiety that goes along with going out of the house or interacting with people. My partner, Scottie has her demons with dealing with it.

The pressure between us has been growing when Mr. Xxx started with his lack of support. Denying me my sense of reality. Making me feel like I am unable to interpret my feelings accurately about certain people I feel are treating me like shit. He defended Angie rather than supporting me. The problem comes in that we are both his clients but when he is in a session with me it is my time. That is when I should be getting his support, not her. He should be trying to understand what I am feeling and not Angie. He should be trying to help me understand why she is treating me with such vitriol. What I was feeling about what he was doing made no difference to him. He felt he had to protect Angie from me. I’ve been nothing but cordial to her and she just jumps all over me. Fuck Angie and Fuck Mr. Xxx.

I want to know why I am feeling so hostile. It’s always such a contest to battle out who is right rather then trying to figure out what is wrong. He just doesn’t feel like he cares or wants to understand the effects the group is having on me. I’m really hating to be in that room alone with Angie or him. It is becoming such a toxic place. Its only redeeming quality is that you are there and I feel you protect me. Otherwise I don’t feel safe at all.

You give me support. I wish you were the leader and that Mr. Xxx would resign from the group. He’s threatened to do it enough times. Why doesn’t he just do it and turn the leadership over to you full time. I’d like that more than anything else. Maybe Angie would leave with him.

You’d be so perfect. You could rebuild the group and maybe we would actually talk about something relevant and we would lose him monopolizing every session with his damn stories that haven’t any relevance. We could actually do therapy. Oh, do think about it. Maybe you could work on him and make him decide he is not right for the group any longer or the group is not right with him, that it needs a woman leading a women’s therapy group and not a man.

That is probably enough for this letter. This just exhausts me. I promise I will talk more about it. I just want you to know that I am really beginning to trust you. It’s because I want to and I am believing you will come through and live up to deserving that trust, I think you have already. I do trust you. I want and need to.

I’ll have more to tell you next time. Maybe we can talk some about the individual members of the group besides Mr. Xxx. You need to know more detailed information about them to better understand the dynamics between everyone. It is quite an interesting group broken off into its’ segments. It’s all too depressing to me.

Until next time I will leave you with one secret. Watch out for Robin. She is not your friend. Do not trust her. I don’t want to see you get hurt. That is all I will say for now.

Regards,
Madison

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.

Regards,
Madison Taylor.

Madison Tayler's Fantasy Psychoanalyst's Office

Madison Tayler’s Fantasy Psychoanalyst’s Office

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

QUOTATIONS from: PRIVATE WRITINGS

“A Dream

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

“For that fine madness still he did retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.”
~Michael Drayton~
(1563-1631)

“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

Private Writings: Chapter #3 — Coming Closer

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013Private Writings: Chapter #3: Coming Closer
By Jennifer Kiley
Written 03.31.13
Illustrated by j. kiley
First Posting 03.19.13
Posted Weekly Early Tuesday Morning
Chapter #3 Posted 2nd April 2013
WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.

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

Private Writings: Chapter #3 — Coming Closer

Tuesday October 16th 2007

Dear Annie

I rather left you hanging in my last letter regarding my cancer saga. Not trying to be flippant but a touch less severe or dramatic. The story does continue. But today, there are other matters I want to write about. So, I will keep it brief that aspect of my past that has to do with my recovery.

After leaving you hanging on my near death experience and no diagnosis could be found, eventually they discovered a virus that was causing the effects of some tropical illness. Nothing would stay down. My insides were shrinking. They had to hydrate me. I was losing masses of weight. Over the course of one night i lost twenty pounds. I just could not eat and when I did it wouldn’t stay down. I was on a diet of jello and ginger ale and my regular medications. They had to switch everything over to IV.

There were these great blue parachute bags that opened up quickly and kept what came up well contained. No messes. I use to be bulimic and this was worse then that ever was. Losing weight did satisfy my anorexic mindset but as Scottie would say, “That is not the way to lose weight.” I think it became her mantra with me. Eating was not one of my favorite things. And now that I am feeling a touch better. I am so particular about what I want and can put in my stomach. Everything needs to be mild and mostly white.

As I began to feel better, all seemed like I was recovering. No more Chemo. Hurray! But still Monday through Friday Scottie took me to my radiation treatment. They were an experiment in visiting Hell. They were killing the bone marrow in my hip where blood was made so enters my anemia with an already compromised immune system this was affecting my ability to make red and white blood cells.

I will stop here. Without meaning to I wrote more than I wanted but I guess it is something I never talked to anyone about at any length. I kept it all hidden. Not even Scottie. She was overloaded with caring for me. She lived it. I’m sure she didn’t want to hear about it.

What I really wanted to write to you about today is my connection to you in the women’s group. Ever since I returned, I want more and more for you to be leading the group. You may not say much but what you do say is so much more poignant than anything Mr. Xxx ever goes on and on about, blowing his bubbles, signifying nothing. You are so sensitive. You actually listen. He’s always waiting to jump in somewhere with what he wants to say next. He just has his stories he has to be sure to tell. And they never really focus on what you pour your heart into saying. That’s why I have pretty much given up. He has sucked any emotions I have out of me. I haven’t felt anything but panic and anxiety since I first started seeing him.

The closer I feel toward what you are meaning to the group and me the further away from Mr. Xxx I am growing. He has been my private therapist since I left doing therapy with another therapist. I never wanted to leave her but insurance caused us to end our relationship of over 7 years. Her name was Irene. I was so strongly attached to her. We met once a week and between sessions I would always need to call her to talk and I would write her a letter every week.

The month of our last visit was the same month and year that Princess Diana was killed in the car crash in Paris. I had started with Mr. Xxx right away. I was a basket case and needed to continue therapy without any interruption. After one or two of our sessions he asked me to write a poem about something, anything. I had told him that I was a writer and had written a novel and started many others. I, also, mentioned I was a poet from the time I was a teenager or maybe even before that.

I remember my grandmother and I had invented a secret alphabet in order to communicate privately with each other. We didn’t want anyone else to be able to read what we were writing to each other. I was pretty young when we did that. It was the signs of the beginnings of a budding author or someone with a keen imagination. That’s what my grandmother told me. She always encouraged me. She was the one person in my childhood that was not a nightmare to me or an abuser or bully.

Back to Mr. Xxx, while I was seeing him I did write that one poem. It was about the effect Princess Diana’s death had on me, which was very traumatic. It turned out to be the only poem I wrote during the almost ten years that I have been seeing him. He slowly started sucking the life out of me. Everyone thought that I should replace him. I knew I needed a new therapist but I was too afraid of the change. I turned to putting my writing into the screenplays Scottie directed. They don’t take out of you the same kind of emotional depth and passion. My scripts were intense but there is something about writing poetry that rips open my soul and tears at my heart. Since you have entered into my world, I have been experimenting with writing down some lines of poetry. The polishing, so I can see my reflection, will take some time. When that happens I will write poetry for you.

The people in my life were and are constantly putting pressure on me to terminate my therapy with him. They all feel it is a toxic relationship. I feel nothing inside with him. I am an emotional zombie with the exception of my alter Brad, who is filled with rage and comes out and tells him off all the time. He is always pissing Brad off. I should tell you up front Brad is a young teenage male, who protects us all. He is our guardian. We want to confess to you that we have dissociative identity disorder. There are many of us inside but Brad is the most out going. He isn’t afraid of anything or anyone. Some day as we get to know you we will tell you more about us.

Back to the asshole, Mr. Xxx. I suppose we shouldn’t call him that with you. I will just tell you he makes us feel on the defensive all the time. We can’t trust him and for sure we never feel we can open up to him. We keep our true feelings or thoughts locked in a secure place inside us. Directness with him is like a battle for attention. Mr. Xxx always wants the floor or has an excuse for what he has to say.

He tries to make or causes us to deny our sense of realty. We would finally think we could tell him something real. But then we would feel like Charlie Brown kicking the football and he would become Lucy. I just realized she is a cheap therapist. So is he or should be. So, at the last moment he would prove once again we couldn’t trust him. He always has a way of twisting my feelings into being wrong and defends the person I am having the negative feelings about even though they were being mean as Hell to me. That’s when he would push me into a dark corner and Brad would come out in a raging fury wanting to tear him apart for being such a Dickhead.

It was always more his session than ours. He has to show off how smart he is and would always try to one up on us whenever I said anything about art or what was happening in the news or any ideas. He always felt insecure or something and felt he had to prove he knew more than I did. I am not an egotist but I am rather brilliant and artistic. Inside of my mind there is so much activity going on all the time and such a thirst for knowledge and philosophical thinking. My creative ideas overflow about subjects I want to write about. I put that creative energy into my screenplays. He had never gotten my creative nature There is absolutely no encouragement. I lack getting any understanding from him. But enough about him or I’ll scream.

Now I would like to get a touch more personal with you. I told you some of the outline of my relationship with Mr. Xxx. It helps explain why I am thinking seriously about finding a new therapist. I know you aren’t in a place now for it to be you, but someday, I want to know if I ever do ask that question whether the answer will be yes?

I should be completely honest with you about some of the ways that I feel. One thing that is strong in me is that I get jealous. I also get attached and can be rather dependent. I am in control of my behavior but I do feel very intense about people I care about. For an example, you seem to have a certain relationship between yourself and Robin. You engage in some intense conversations after group is over and then you give her a ride home. Now I am not exactly sure why this bothers me but it does.

Before I became ill I always took Robin home. We would have these intense conversations. Now I am not sure if I am jealous, just a touch because she talks to you, or you talk to her and spend time with her. What I am saying I think or feel I want to be in Robin’s place. I want the intense conversations with you. But also I want my friend back. That’s a real Catch-22.

We also take the same road home and I can see you both sitting in your car talking. How crazy am I that it bothers me. I don’t really want you two to be close. I can absolutely not talk to Mr. Xxx about what I am feeling. The Goddess knows what he would say. Not going to trust that.

I hope you are able to understand the trust I am placing in you, being so direct and honest. Closeness with you is something I would like to build between us.

Until the next time I see you I will close with a thank you for listening.

Regards,
Madison

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.
Regards, Madison Taylor

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

Madison Tayler’s Fantasy Psychoanalyst’s Office

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

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~
(1563-1631)

“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

Private Writings: Chapter #2 — Coming Close

private writings to a psychoanalyst (c) Jk 2013Private Writings: Chapter #2 — Coming Close
Written by Jennifer Kiley
First Posting 03.19.13
Posted Weekly Early Tuesday Morning
Chapter #2 Published 26th March 2013
WARNING: ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT.
NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN.

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

Private Writings: Chapter #2 — Coming Close

Tuesday 9th October 2007

Dear Annie,

I feel a need to be a bit less formal in addressing you. So, from now on I will just use your first name Annie. It sounds so much better than writing: Dear Annie Haskell. That does sounds rather formal and weird.

Let me start out by telling you something of what I have gone through over the past year, to fill you in on me. If it were not for the support of the women from my therapy group, I don’t know what would have happened to me. To begin with, I am the only one that remains from the original group. As you could see from last week, everyone was so warm to me on my return after being away for over 8 months. And they really made me feel wanted, like I belonged. If you knew what world I came from you would understand how important that is to me.

When I was in the hospital, group members visited daily. I never believed anyone cared that much. It definitely made me feel good. My body was so weak. It was hard to find the energy to stay conscious while everyone visited. My health sucked. Dying wasn’t very far away. I had blood transfusions. It may have been exhausting to visit with my friends but I wanted them to be there. Some place inside of me and the help of their energy, I found an inner strength so I could stay conscious during their visits.

One special friend, Kristina, came every evening. We would talk or just hang out. We’d listen to the television. The nursing staff would check on me. Do their tests. Lots of needles. Hate needles. Kristina was a great friend. I never had to pretend with her. We talked about whatever thoughts came into our minds. Her friendship was open to any conversation and any topic. Nothing was taboo. She stayed until late just as I would start falling asleep.

I should mention that the hospital had open visitation twenty-four/seven every day of the week. Visitors sometimes slept there and joined in meals with friends or family members. It was an inviting place. I loved the nursing staff except one.

She would always wake me at 2am. One night, I could not believe it, a really bad night, I had finally fallen asleep. There she was, shaking my shoulder to wake me. She made me get out of bed so she could weigh me. If I had the strength I would have told her to GO FUCK OFF. But I was too tired and too polite. I relayed this story to another night nurse, she told me I should have told her to GO FUCK OFF. I could do that. Well, I did not know that. I was losing weigh rather drastically but please do not wake someone so ill when sleep is so precious and limited. I am surprised that murders do not happen in hospitals more often, but to the staff with people like that jack-ass.

My mate, Scottie, that I’ve been with for almost forever, wasn’t too partial to hospitals, so we spoke more on the phone, several times a day, and just before I went to sleep at night. She did visit me in the hospital every day but I could tell she was like a cat out in a rain storm, just not her place. Inside her head, the following words were reverberating, “GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!” And that is the correct volume level those words would make.

She was there for me completely, though. she was constantly on a deadline, an artist in great demand. She is a film director and writer. She was in editing during this time so she could be around more than usual. She was there for radiation treatments and three hours of chemotherapy. I usually fell asleep. Eventually, we decided I would contact her by cell phone a short time before chemo was over for the day. That seemed more than generous to me for her, then she wait with me all that time. I felt a touch selfish imposing on her, taking her away from her own time and demands. The studios weren’t going to so patient if she didn’t get her film edited by the deadline. Fortunately she was also one of the producers. So she did rule somewhat. But she didn’t need to watch me have poison dripping from a hanging plastic bag, coursing through my veins, gradually making me feel violently ill. Scottie didn’t need to be there for that. She needed the time off from me, too, and the things she needed to do for me that no one would want to ask anyone to ever do for them.

Unfortunately, the day came when Scottie was taking me to one of my usual chemotherapy treatments. She always waited until I was set up with my medicine bags and settled in before taking off. On this particular day, it seemed like it was taking forever for them to get things started. I had my usual blood tests before treatments. They always checked for blood counts and other important tests to be sure I was physically okay to receive the treatments. Scottie and I waited in one of the treatment rooms, which was near enough to the nurses’ desk. We could hear some of the words that were being exchanged between staff. We could hear the Doctor speaking. Not the specific words until I heard my name. Scottie looked at me. Both of us were puzzled. It was then I heard the word hospital. Plus no one had come to set up my medicine IVs. No one was coming to talk to us. It seemed like time had vanished. Nothing was moving forward. I was getting a bad sense that something was starting to move in the wrong direction. Motion stopped. Just sounds could be heard but nothing was making any sense.

Finally my doctor and nurse entered the treatment room. They faced Scottie and me. They revealed it was my body. The blood tests were not good. My body was not tolerating the Chemo. Instead it was close to killing me. (My words, not theirs. Their words were that I was extremely ill.) Scottie took my hand when the doctor told us that my blood count was basically nonexistent. My chemo had been cancelled and arrangements had been made to admit me into the hospital immediately. My condition was serious. I had a fever and an infection that they were unable to diagnose and no immune system to fight it. An expert from the Center from Disease Control was called in on my case. No one had any idea what was wrong with me. I was put into quarantine. Not sure if they were afraid my health would be compromised or whether I was a danger to the other patients in the hospital. All sorts of special procedures were initiated while treating me. No one was allowed to touch me or get too close to me. Any medical staff had to put on special clothing. It was all rather “House” or “ER.”

Well, I’d say that’s enough for now about the cancer. I want you to know that today I noticed you again, Annie. I couldn’t help but want to look at you but I didn’t want you to know that or anyone else to. I don’t like people to see my feelings on the outside, even in a therapy setting. It makes me feel too shy. Looking at you makes me feel shy. And it makes me feel awkward wanting to just watch you but feeling I couldn’t and shouldn’t. Please don’t misunderstand, I’m not a stalker. It’s just you. You’re hard not to look at. It’s not objectification. You must know that you are beautiful and there is something deeper than that. You have an aura of tenderness that surrounds you. I know I must not be the only one that feels this way or senses something really special coming from inside of you. I know I am really highly sensitive to other people. I feel what’s going on inside of them. That’s why I often need to block people out.

But let me put a question to you. Is there anyone in your life that tells you how beautiful and amazing you are? I mean on a regular basis? If you answer no, than I need to say that there should be. I, also, noticed how very quiet you are. It seems you are as shy as I am. But then, this was only the second time we were in the same room together, I could be wrong about the shyness. We’ll have to wonder about that for another time.

I saw my therapist later after group and I asked him about you. The first thing he told me was that you were there more as an observer, trying to learn about group dynamics. How they functioned in a real setting. Sometimes, he said that you would participate, but not that frequently. I must say that was a disappointment to hear. I was hoping for more but for now, simply your presence will have to be enough. He did inform me you are working on a college degree and training to become a psychoanalyst. That was the best part of what he said. That is somehow comforting to me. I am delighted to know you are working on becoming a psychoanalyst.

But even better for the present, I would be seeing you in our women’s therapy group every week. That to me made my day complete. I love that idea. But then he came out with the best part, he told me that if he wasn’t able to cover a group session, you would take over in his place. I held back my enthusiasm. He didn’t need to know how much that statement thrilled me. Just to have someone else cover a group session would have been enough but to have that person be you, well, that brought my day up to the highest level possible.

He, also, finally got to the place where he told me that last week, the week I returned, was coincidentally your first session with the group. That really surprised me. It made me wonder why he hadn’t introduced you last week to the group. But then I remembered I was a few moments late arriving. Anyway, I let it go.

Back to you entering into my life the same day that I entered into yours. I enjoy when serendipity happens. It creates a sense of magic in my mind and an opening up of so many feelings inside me. The best part is feeling the excitement that maybe someday I could actually ask you a super important question. It might sound strange coming from me right now but I’m going to ask it anyway. Here goes, I would like it if some day when you have completed your studies and are finally registered as a professional psychoanalyst, if you could or would see me in a professional capacity. Sometime in the future, I would like to be your client.

Surprised? At this moment, I will not explain why I would be asking you that question. Wait patiently and in some future letter, I will go into more detail on why, I feel, that question is appropriate.

Regards,
Madison Taylor

Ps. I believe in my next letter I shall drop the formality of signing my letters to you, using my family’s name. I will just use Madison. Let’s see how I feel before I definitely decide.

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.
Regards,
Madison Taylor.

Somewhere In Time – John Barry

QUOTATION from: Private Writings

“A Dream

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

“For that fine madness still he did retain,
Which rightly should possess a poet’s brain.”
~Michael Drayton~
(1563-1631)

“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