Monster Poem 2

I’m dying to know.
Would you like to be a fuzzy monster, or a black crow?
Would you rather be a plain monster, or a silly monster?
I really must know.

How about a monster with 86 toes?
Or one with seventeen eyes?
Would you rather be a scary monster,
or a friendly monster?
Come on tell me which, which would you pick?

Would you want to be a tiny monster,
what about a big monster?
Would you like to be able to hide in small places?
Or be able to fly?
Tell me, tell me know. I am dying to know.

Would you rather have purple fur, or green scales?
Would want to be a land monster, or one who sails?
Tell me now, make up your mind. and let me know.

Monster Poem 1

This was brought about by a Halloween prompt last year. I felt the need to share it 🙂

Three monsters,
Six monsters,
Purple monster,
Green monster.

Orange monster,
Shiny monster,
Bloody monster.
Scary monster.

That monster has big sharp teeth.
That one has a bloody axe.
Where did all these scary monsters,
Come from.

Some are big, some are small,
Some are short and some are tall.

Some look hungry,
Others look mad.
And some look very, very bad.

Oh I am not staying around,
Any much longer,
I don’t not want to find out
If they are hungry or worse.

Time for me to run,
Run from these horrible monsters.

Poem for my Sister

That little white bear,
the bear that is a constant reminder.
A constant pain in my heart,
because I know you are not here with us.

The bear that was given to me,
on that dreadful day.
The day we laid you in the ground.
The day we cried for hours.
The day that we had to realize what had happened,
that it wasn’t just a nightmare.

I wish I had you here,
instead of a small, white bear that holds a pink heart.
Instead of clinging to it, I wish I could hug you.
I wish you were not taken from us.
Every ounce of me wishes you were here.

But I know you had a higher purpose,
and were needed for something greater.
So I await the day I get to see you again.
I love you sissy.

My Life with Tourettes

I was diagnosed with tourettes about about five years ago at the age of 19, which was a shock to my neurologist because typically people that have tourettes outgrow their tics around the age of 18, mine worsened to where my parents noticed something just wasn’t right. We were watching a documentary about tourette syndrome and my mom looked at me and I was doing the exact same things the teens on the television were doing, just not as violently. My tics cause involuntary movement of my upper body as well as involuntary sounds. Sometimes the sounds are quite funny. I’ve yelled ‘elbow’ and ‘yabba dabba doo’ and what’s even funnier is the fact that my best friend has tics she yells ‘yes’ and I typically yell ‘no’.

My tics are brought on by boredom, stress, and a few are chemically induced. The chemicals my dad uses at work cause a reaction with my brain that cause my body to go out of whack resulting in a major tic attack, which isn’t fun. And with me being ADHD I’m typically always bored, even if I am doing something, I’m bored. And I’m a full-time college student, and that is where the stress comes from, plus my worrying about my brother who has epilepsy and my mom who has a bunch of health issues, I’m a major stressed out person for my age.

My biggest issue with tourettes is that people do not understand it, so when I have an attack in public I feel really embarrased and people look at me like, ‘she’s a drug addict’ or ‘there is something wrong with her’. Technically there is something wrong with me, but it isn’t that I am a drug addict, far from it. They define me by my tics, which is hard to handle because if people wouldn’t label based on that, they would know that I am a straight A college student, graduated with honors with my Associates Degree, I am training to be a crime scene investigator, and am working on becoming an author. Not to mention I’m a pretty cool person once you get to know me for me and not my tourettes.

I’ve always have tourettes now that me and my parents have looked back. As a child I would randomly have tics but my parents had just thought I was dancing, because that is what it looked like. Or when I’d have a vocal tic they thought I was just trying to get my way, when in reality I was having a tic attack. But back then tourettes wasn’t too common in my area and we didn’t know anything about it, so we simply didn’t know I had it. And if it wasn’t for that documentary we might not have ever known I did. But my brothers neurologist had seen me have a few episodes in the office with my brother and she told me to go get checked out, and sent me to a neurologist for adults.

It was in that visit that I had been diagnosed with tourettes and shocked my doctor with my case. It is uncommon for a person’s tics to worsen after the age of 18, so it is a bit rare that mine worsened at the age of 19. Also I could tell when I was going to tic, and from what he told me, some people don’t know that they are about to have an attack, and at first he associated that with epilepsy, but after talking with him he had decided it was more like tourettes because I didn’t come out of them dazed and lethargic, and I knew what was going on. I was then sent for an MRI, where they examined my brain and my neck to see which part of the brain was being attacked, nothing came up abnormal. I can honestly say being in the MRI tube for 2 hours was not fun, and that afterwards I slept the entire day because I was physically and emotionally drained from the experience. And the bad part is I was suppose to have blood work done afterwards because of my bleeding disorder, but I didn’t make it to that.

Now it has been about five years since my diagnosis and I’ve learned to cope with my tics, and I’ve figured out tricks to suppress them. Which I might add for me makes them 10 times worse later on, so I try not to hide them, because it leaves me drained. I also know when I am going to have an episode, it feels like pins-and-needles creeping up my back and then bam, tic attack. But the best thing for me to do to eliminate the boredom and the stress is to pick up a pen, paint brush, pencil, computer, anything I can be creative with. Doing something artsy and that I love keeps me boredom-free and calms my nerves so that I am not so stressed out.

Why I wear Purple

At the age of 4 months my brother had his first seizure episode, having nearly 30 seizures in only a few minutes. We rushed him to the hospital where they pricked him countless times with all sorts of needles trying to help stop the seizures, and my brother was really scared. I was freaked out and didn’t really know what to do, I believe I spent most of the time crying.

I spent my 16th birthday in ICU with my little brother, praying he was alright. He was diagnosed with complex fibral seizures, and his brain suffered from the trauma. For the next year my brother would scream when a doctor or nurse came near him, or anyone in green scrubs. Which wouldn’t you if you had just went through that?

A year later he had another big episode and regressed back to square one. So we had to reteach him how to walk and talk. So me and my mom sat in the floor teaching him how to walk, and trying not to ball our eyes out while doing so. Things were tough. I was in high school, and missed a lot of classes helping with my brother. He eventually began walking and talking and everything was fine.

Until he started kindergarten and his teachers basically called him stupid. One time his teacher called saying I don’t know if he is having a seizure or he doesn’t like me. My brother is now nine years old, and is a happy little kid, even though he went through all of that. He has his struggles, like most kids, but he’s awesome, and the funniest kid you will probably ever meet.

So the reason I wear purple is in support of epilepsy, as well as the support for my brother. He has come so far, and I love him so very much.

Running from Fear

Initially this was for an anthology project, but I decided to go with another idea. I may go back and continue this concept at a later date because it has been in the back of my mind to continue. Maybe I’ll be led to continue it one day.

Fear: to be afraid of (something or someone) ~Merriam Webster Dictionary
“Only thing we have to fear, is fear itself.” ~ Franklin D. Roosevelt

Fear, it can make you do some pretty crazy things. Fear can get you into a lot of trouble too. Which is where I come in. I did something stupid, something out of fear, something that has cost me dearly. I caused a war, out of fear. I was trying to stop the war, by running away, by escaping. Instead, I caused it to start, because of my disappearance, and now I can’t go back.

Well there is no where to go back too, everything is destroyed. Everything, except my family and there search for me. But I cannot go back, and cannot let them know that I just ran away. They lost everything because of my stupidness, and my fear. That same fear that is driving me to run further and further away from them. Why did I have to run.

My name is Aspen, and I’m sixteen. I’ve been running for maybe a year now, and guards are on my trail. I don’t know if they are my father’s or the other’s kingdom’s but I know they are after me. Not really me, but what I took from the castle, I took the vial that had been protected for years. The vial that could be the end of the entire planet. This vial was what was causing the war, out of fear I took it and ran. Which I’ve realized was a very bad idea, a very very bad idea.

Agabe Book Anthology

Lately I’ve been working on so many projects that I’ve neglected quite a few things. One being my novel. But now that this process had been put on the back burner for a year, I can really focus on a few other things and polish this story, and get all the information that I would really like to have for this project.

It is a group project where several writers are coming together to write about something we’ve dealt with in the past, mine being my Von Willebrands Disease (bleeding disorder). I had never gotten sick until this point in my life, 2007. So one girl proposed the idea and I absolutely loved it because I had been wanting to do something like this for a bit now, so I started the project and here we are. Three amazing writers with stories already drafted up, one being myself.

My mother is even on board helping with banner creations, and I even got her to pick her writing back up with a poem I shared on the group about my sister. If all goes well our book will contain stories, poems, and random artworks by those in the group, and all proceeds will go to a charity organization that we chose in the end.

Only thing is finding all the links, and a perfect charity in the end. I am glad to be a part of such an awesome process though.

Chasity Nicole's Writing Blog