Wisps Posts Tagged as 'Mental Health'
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I’m hurt that they let my nephew refuse to hug me
Once an adult family member accidentally fucks you, think about a career in porn because word will get around that you've acquired skills. 12-Sep-2022
Would the lunacy from politics end if we just served and protected "everybody"? 12-Sep-2022
Naomi Judd died from a single gunshot to the head
People commit suicide when they realize no one is true. 26-Aug-2022
In order to forgive, you "have to forget," less they keep bringing it up until you have the fight that splits you... over and over and over and over and over and over again, until you die. Just because they can't compartmentalize. 17-Aug-2022
I was a zombie for two years. 15-May-2022
I bit into one when alone with the spirits. It tasted like soap. 15-May-2022
I didn't believe a word of it. All week she screamed "not to touch her soaps" and almost every day I struggled not to taste them. They looked yummy. 15-May-2022
My mother was tasked with bathing in soaps that looked much like Halloween candy to complete the ritual. It washed away the stains/bad spirits. 15-May-2022
Magic or fucked up shit? 14-May-2022
A black woman became possessed, my mother released her rage and I thought I was in a dark Disney movie. 14-May-2022
She didn't want the voices in her head to interfere with her mothering. 14-May-2022
My mother was. 14-May-2022
I was not the subject. 14-May-2022
I was present at an exorcism. 14-May-2022
Anti-depressants aren't supposed to make people happier, they are prescribed to stop mental assholes from hurting you. 23-Apr-2022
If god wanted us to see the extra layer of dirt advertisement keeps warning us about, he would have given us X-ray vision. If it looks and smells clean, it's clean. Enough! 08-Apr-2022
The reason there is so much hate in the world is because little miracles have no manners. They are so adorable with manners. We can actually pay attention to them. 07-Nov-2021
If parents raised a child without personal opinions and followed a universal rule book, would the world chill out? 23-Oct-2021
The idea of sharing neighborly grief and sentimentality with food is a common tradition that our family never followed. Dished food was constantly being brought to our home with gestures of warmth and or greetings yet remained untasted. At funeral gatherings my mother would throw out the stranger's food and keep only the family's. When the strangers inquired about their food my mother showed them the empty dishes. "It was so good the people gobbled it up." There was always an excuse. She didn't like what they said, they appeared unclean, smelled, had cats, were old, of another race or white. Mrs. Brady would have no chance at delivering "other food" to our mouths.
Our mother turned eating out into shopping for a restaurant. She wanted to make sure it was clean and comfortable and that more than two people were eating there. She didn't want to appear uncool.
Before she died, my stepfather's mother made some of his favorite dishes. We drove to pick them up. They were neatly packed in containers and my stepfather was excited to bring the food home and share it with us but mother smelled something foul in the car on our way home. I smelled nothing. Is it coming from those containers?! Throw them out! Those containers are not coming inside my house! They're poison. Throw them out or you're not getting back in the car! My stepdad deflated as he dumped the last taste of home and I felt so bad for him. It's his mother's food and he's the only one obligated to eat it and if he wants to relive a fond memory, he should goddam be able to. Mother! Go into another room while he gobbles it down. I'll clean it up. I told her that and she yells at me "yeah, but you don't know these people." (Spells and shit.)
I've never held to her philosophy and as an adult enjoyed much food by hospitable strangers and neighbors and obviously never died. My mother was afraid someone else would usurp her talent. 01-May-2021
I was under 25 living a fantasy gay lifestyle with my perfect partner in Brooklyn. I lived 20 blocks from my mother and my newly appointed stepfather. It was like living in a colorized version of "I Love Lucy." Yes, I was as corny as all of you once.
Mother calls hysterical. We had to come over. We were just there. What happened?
Rewind: my stepfather wanted to be more seductive for my mother so he called us for advice. My Russian advised him to get her flowers, lay them out, get a thong and strip for her. I agreed it might be fun for her. It was all the craze and my stepdad had the body.
FF: a family dinner was the event where he decided to put sexy daddy in motion. I was flabbergasted but I didn't want to embarrass him and or hear the wrath of mom. I watched as he stripped to a thong and ran her out into the kitchen. He automatically proceeded to dance and strip for my lover and I. Dude, my lover was getting into it. I slithered into the kitchen before my stepdaddy lap dance, checked on mom and she was furious. "That fuckin' maricon." Men don't do that shit. I'm humiliated. I apologized and told her it was my fault and that I thought it would be cute. I didn't know he was going to take it so seriously. She softened, laughed and whispered that "he used to be a bouncer at gay clubs. That's where he learnt the moves. (I didn't know bouncers had to bounce.) He says he never did anyone there but after today I'm not so sure." My mother accepted it as a joke, stepfather got dressed, we ate hardy, laughed ridiculously and went home.
Mother: Something's wrong with your stepfather, he's beating himself up,"como un loco." I think it's an army thing.
I was what? I returned to mother's and he was indeed beating himself to a pulp. He was punching himself and body slamming his head against the walls. We restrained my bloody step and stored him in a room away from my mother.
Step: your mother... (he couldn't speak)
Me: why were you punching yourself dad?
Step: (crying) because she pushed all my buttons and I wanted to hit her. I made a promise to myself that I would never hit another woman, ever, so instead of punching her, I punched myself.
Mother: pendejo. He really is an idiot isn't he? (She laughs. Ok. I laughed too.) I would rather he hit me and prove that he's a man instead of acting like this. (More laughter.) Your father knew how to corral a woman. I liked that. That's the kind of man I want. Not this. You have some of that too. (Ha!)
I asked he if she got off on it and she said yes. Out of the blue...she admits Osama Bin Laden gave her wet dreams. "There is something about that man. Don't you think?" (I was speechless. Why is she telling me this shit?)
I've taken her to countless hospitals with boyfriend injuries and interceded physically to save her life and she gets off on it? The hurt, the police, the pity, the crying, the worry, the danger, the attention, the fraud, the violence all for a tickle? 05-Mar-2021
Mother's stratagem to keep a working daddy closer is to never let him know he was doing a banging good job. "Make them sweat, make them wonder but if you want to keep 'em don't ever tell them how great they are." I got it. The more a man thinks he's great the more chances of fulfilling the crippling desire to open other people's presents. Irk that one good spot left in his brain and he'll keep coming back around to try to figure it out. I can see a woman's idea of entrapment there. It suddenly occurred to me to accidentally apply it to a guy I was dating. He was daddy perfection and ejaculatory squish. After an aerobic session he asked me to concur that the sex was one of our best. Even though it was, I told him I had better. He topped himself every single time and I always answered the same. Why did I do that? I sadly dumped him because he was a camper. He kept threatening that we couldn't extend our relationship unless I went camping with him. Black daddies and city Puerto Ricans don't do woods. It doesn't make sense. He was one of the greatest but I don't camp.
My step-father must wonder with every dying breath, "why did l try so hard? She was never satisfied." 21-Dec-2020
I came out to my mother when I was 17 years old and no longer residing in her household. I didn't expect a good reaction so I called her on a public phone and announced it to her. She cried, became quiet and told me she suspected it but that she loved me, no matter what. I didn't have to lie to mother anymore. It was freeing. I visited her a few days later. She had time to absorb and ponder having a gay son. She cried again, I asked why and she said because being gay meant I was destined for a miserable life. That's impossible, it was such an overwhelming feeling to be me. I had to prove her wrong. She asserted conditions for my new identity: no meeting of "my men," I must continue to have a masculine presence, especially around family and don't get sick. I ignored her, introduced her to every one, told as much of the family as I could bear and kept my masculinity in check.
My mother recently confided to me that she used to receive dick pics from my croc daddy in the US mail while I was living with him. I thought, he might have done it as revenge for my unwillingness to absorb giant dick pain and or tricking him into being a gay bottom. When I took him to Gay Pride he cried because he thought I mistook him for one of those. He was straight. His shit was no joke but he was. A child molester was my educator and entrance into the gay world. I also figured my mother and I were even. Her boyfriend tried to brutally rape me. Mother's boyfriend was two years older than me, my croc daddy was 55. Our boyfriends shared the same culture, understood the nuances that make people vulnerable, and always seemed to be creepily plotting something sexual for us. Neither man represented our community. They were perverts sidling up to mommies so they could play with their children. (Now I know why she tried to cut him out of my photo albums.) I understand her comments and I realized her concern. My gay education came from perverts. The community hates itself more than the media loves it. Clicks work for a minute, the families we create are fake and we all die alone. We need less "Boys In The Band" depression and more gay reality awareness so we can come up with better coping mechanisms. Not smile at weirdos taking advantage of us because of politically correct etiquette.
I apologized to my mother. My croc stalked me, stole from us, used me, beat me up, tied me up and raped me. Afterwards, he thought of not releasing me because he was afraid I would kill him. You bet your life! But I had no choice, I begged for my life, stroked the psycho's ego and he loosened one arm while he Soniced out of the apt. I was stalked by my ex, my mother was stalked by her ex and I was stalked by both exes. I spent a lifetime trying to prove mother's sentiment wrong but in the end, she was right.
(Pic of my daddy croak included. Mother destroyed my croak dic picks but y'all can ask mother if she kept her copy.) 26-Oct-2020
The moment you find out all of life's answers, you are discarded and labeled a mental health crisis even though we are all mentally unwell. 16-Sep-2020
We are getting very close to becoming the burp nation. 04-Nov-2019