Out of the Gutter Art

Category: bipolar artist

  • Back to the Story:

    IT’S HOT, I’M TIRED..

       Night fell, and we were ready by Burt’s golden chariot. What an amazing vehicle it was. Huge, glistening, bearing his name proudly on the door in script as the owner/operator. This was no drugged-out short-timer. No, Mr. Burt was the real deal, hauling real steel. A true gentleman, he helped me up into the cab. Awkwardly, we loaded Spicedog, and then Danny swung aboard. I sat in between the men, and a bit behind. This truck was a castle compared to the first, and Burt took pride in his home on the road. His wife’s picture held pride of place on the dash, a buxom woman with honey blonde hair who smiled warmly at the camera.

       Danny and Burt hit it off, so I curled up in the back with Binky Boots Bouncer Callahan, my calico kitten. This was really an amazingly laid-back kitty, maybe because life had become crazy at such a young age for her, she just adapted. Danny had fashioned a tiny harness and leash for her, made of shoestring, it seemed to work well. I slept, hard, the exhaustion of the past 5 days felt like a month. When I woke we were rolling into Las Cruces.

       As we rolled into a lot for the night, the truck stop offered showers, and food. We had been dependent on the kindness of strangers, and although I tried to hide from God, I think he had mercy on a pair of delusional addicts. In retrospect,  the fact that we were never accosted or assaulted thus far was miraculous in itself!

       Our time with our generous friend was soon to end, another day saw us entering Arizona. New Mexico had been dry, but mild during the day. In this climate the temperatures plummeted after the sun went down- well began layering our sparse choices of clothing.

      Our bond as a couple has faced challenges, yet our love and dedication to each other and our little family remained intact. This was in spite of withdrawals from shooting up cocaine, and staying drunk 24/7. My mind had cleared, my health and stamina had improved on our journey.

       All these changes for the good would later be sorely tested. For now though, our future seemed hopeful, and our days were full of excitement and freedom. I was finally actually seeing the beautiful landscape, and a few collect phone calls to my Mom meant that soon we would have a few dollars for necessities. My relationship with my parents was far from good, the heartache travelled even through the telephone lines. This made me cling tighter to Danny, to my growing kitten and our faithful pup.  We would make it, I felt more sure than ever…

  • Go West, Lost Woman

       Endless miles…

    °Z

       …rolled under the big wheels. All the hype about this bridge over Lake Ponchetrain was nothing compared to the reality. I hope I never have to cross that swaying monster again.

       Being raised in Pittsburgh, I had been on many bridges, so I reasoned this would be a piece of cake. The wind had kicked up quite a bit; Danny and I were unnerved feeling the expanse swaying as we inched along. Beads of sweat had formed on Joe’s forehead as his knuckles turned white and tightened on the steering wheel. Traffic had slowed to a crawl, and it was then I saw the sign declaring this bridge was 23 miles long. Now beads of sweat broke out on my forehead, too. Feeling the tension, Spice’s panting could be heard above the grinding engine. Danny slept on, oblivious.

       Forty-five minutes later, we were safely off the bridge and due for another rest stop. I had witnessed Joe becoming  more and more agitated as night fell. He brought up the danger of picking up passengers, wild-eyed he suggested we might be planning to assault him overnight. Danny and I tried to assure him, but it became obvious it was time for us to get out of his rig. Joe must have been crashing from his drugs, and the tension was about to boil over. After the truck came to a stop we hurriedly thanked him and unloaded. We took up a space of sidewalk behind the truckstop, contemplating our next move…

    Looking Ahead…

  • It’s Cold, I’m Hungry

    It’s Cold, I’m Hungry

    42 Degrees in Fort Deposit, Alabama…

    Going through withdrawals on this night, in the woods alongside Interstate 8; I was a whining, bleary-eyed mess. My boyfriend and fellow addict, Danny, had just stolen 2 cans of tuna from an old country store across the four-lane highway. Night was setting in as he stabbed the cans with his buck knife, spilling tuna juice on the upturned, anxious face of our boxer dog, Spice. She was as hungry as I was, as the kitten, Binky-Boots was. And as surely hungry as Danny was too at that moment.

    We took turns, taking bites from the tuna can with our fingers; we each got two, the animals one apiece. Danny insisted we save the other can till morning, which seemed a freezing eternity away. Whether the longing to get high, the tightness in my stomach, or my freezing feet bothered me more I can’t recall. What I do remember is that dull ache in my feet soon became the most miserable as the temperature continued to drop.

    The rash decision to leave southeast Florida had been made only 18 hours before. We had loaded my 1970 Mach One in a frenzy, stuffing duffle bags, dog and cat into the back seat, and placing electronics he had stolen gently into the trunk. I had given Danny an ultimatum, make up his mind whether to leave for the West Coast with me that very night, or never see me again.

    I knew in my heart: if I didn’t leave Palm City that day, I wouldn’t live another. I had been an addict over a decade, only turning 23 a month before this crisis. In this span of time I my habit (and as of yet undiagnosed Bipolar Disorder) had resulted in a thirty day stint in a locked psych ward, a detox, a month in a Florida rehab and a year in the Martin County jail for Grand Theft. (The conviction stemmed from robbing the clothing store I managed in the Martin Square Mall. But I digress.)

    Getting back to our present dilemma roadside, an Alabama State Trooper has unkindly relieved me of my beloved Mustang when it had died along the Interstate. Danny and I hadn’t been there more than two hours, hood up, debating our next move. We decided we would take the “kids” and hitch a ride to a phone booth. There I would plead with my Mom to Western Union me enough money to fix the car and rent a room till the car was fixed. I would never get that chance because the aforementioned State Trooper rolled up while we were unloading the dog.

    “Looks like an abandoned vehicle to me” he stated, putting on his hat and rising to an impressive height. He continued, “Let me see some ID, the tow truck’s on it’s way.”

    I started to give some lame explanation of my plan, but realized he meant business. In just a few more words he let us know that non-compliance would not only include my car being impounded, but also our arrest for vagrancy and seizing of Spice and Binky. I think he saw visions of himself cruising the town in his hopped-up Mach One with the Boss 302 engine under it’s hood.

    Sigh…

    There was nothing to do but let him tow the car, and within the hour it was hitched up. The driver was “kind” enough to give all four of us a lift to the impound yard where we now unloaded all we could carry under the hostile glare of four or five “good ole boys” sitting on a porch. My shorts felt very short under their gaze, and we shouldered our bags and walked haltingly down the shoulder of the road. I looked back a couple times, longingly, at my prized muscle car behind the 12 foot fence. It probably belongs to Mr. Trooper’s grandson now…

    to be continued…

  • Orange Baby

    Orange Baby

    CHAPTER 4

    THE SAGA CONTINUES

    Morning Mindmeld c.SUSANTMARTIN2022 (sold)

         I got off track in the last chapter…  

       Too many offshoots and alleyways. Let’s move along a few years to 2020…Pandemic lock down, I’m working on Zoom with some friends. Suddenly, Donna breaks in with a plea,

    ” Would anyone like a Maine Coon kitten?”

    All the girls pipe up with ooohs! and aaahs! The idea of a warm, fuzzy kitten is SO appealing, so comforting in this lonely isolation. I was down to just one outside cat, Frenchy. She was pushing 16, Fogerty and Ollie had died the year before. In the interim, I had also lost 2 of my beloved dogs to cancer and old age. My remaining little Shih Tzu, Kleo, had become much less active as she aged. Perhaps a kitten would be a nice addition to my little homestead.

       My little “not a Maine Coon” kitten as delivered within 3 days. Super fuzzy, a golden cloud, he is a special boy. I name him Zignatious Horatio Needlefingers, and I fall in love. The new routine wasn’t too bad. One catbox, one kitten, one dog to feed and vet seemed manageable.

       Things rapidly changed. My kind heart was about to be sorely tested. Approximately one month later, I rescued a half-grown boy cat who I found crying his little heart out in my neighbors front hedges. It was after a “fireworks” holiday; he had obviously run away in the horrible onslaught of noise. My biker neighbor had been feeding him lunch meat, but he needed proper care. I bundled him into the house and he quickly became the Zag to my Zig. They were now happy playmates. But the vet bills and catboxes had now doubled.

       WHY DID I ALWAYS HAVE TO BE THE SAVIOR? WHAT CHARACTER DEFECT MADE ME A SUCKER FOR LOST ANIMALS?

      

       Looking back now, I understand the pattern. I had been a mother to my alcoholic, abusive husband. The caregiver for my beloved Mom during her illness- even before. She was so needy all my life, telling me she “lived through me”. Finally, being mother/ caregiver to my dear Dad. Caring for his every need as his madness progressed into a second childhood and excruciatingd death. All those years of caregiving through all those events made me feel needed, wanted, and useful. Loved.

       The convoluted and traumatic relationships and disfunction had left me with a void, a pit inside me. And I was filling it with warm, furry little bodies. Ever the caregiver, ever the mother. My self-worth depended on having people and/or pets to care for. 

       It would get worse.

  • Carl, the Wolf Spider

    Carl, the Wolf Spider

    And other Random Thought Balloons

    My Recent Mayan Doodling

       Do you ever wonder if you are sane? I do. Quite often. It’s really relative, if you think about it.(and I do). Because I do have relatives with dementia. But that’s not the “relative” I am referring to. (See what I did there? Pretty clever play on words, eh?)   Reality, Sanity, Imagination, Unreality, Insanity. Don’t they all really depend on what we define them as? Sure, a learned man, a psychologist, these folks really know.

       But for me, inside my mind, I only worry when I have trouble thinking about things. Things in my daily life that other people in my world seem to be able to do, things I struggle with. Bills are a bigee.  Huge issue. I can see the amount I have in the bank, but I just keep sending payments without looking to see if I used all the money up. Like, if I don’t look, then maybe the money will magically cover the payments!

       I don’t think that is sane. Nor is buying ice cream knowing I will eat the entire container, no matter how sick it will make me, which will , in turn,  cause me to be angry at myself. Round and round the Insanity rolls.

    “A THOUGHT MONSTER ESCAPES”

       Do other people dwell on every interaction with other humans they have ever had on a given day? Repeating the scenario and mentally kicking oneself over a mispoken.phrase, a potentially misunderstood glance? Do others wish so hard for a “normal” sleep schedule but deliberately sabotage their efforts by drinking Mountain Dew and eating 6 cups of popcorn at 3 AM? ( Oooh,.that sounds really good, but it’s only 1 am!)

    “Speaking of Yucky Things” c.STMartin2018

       I rattle off a litany of nonsense during my therapy sessions, right after I go over all my real issues,  mentally making note of what pressing issues to discuss…When I hang up all the important points rush back into my brain.

    “the Many Manic Moods of Susan Todd!”
    My Art Lamp!

    LOSING IT !!

      I am ANGRY that I can’t think properly! I want to blame someone for my craziness. Hereditary,  from Dad’s early onset Alzheimer’s. Or the unknown blood donor whose blood I was given at my birth in 1964. That surely did it! What about Mom’s agoraphobia,  depression, hatred of my Dad? Mom’s mom had Alzheimer’s also, and wasn’t there a crazy Uncle? Wait, I’ve GOT IT: my ANCESTRY goes back to the Plantagenets!! Those INBRED ROYALS!!

       I’ll be ok…I won’t give up on trying to be a wee bit better each day at navigating life. I have to go easy on the me that has had 3 major head injuries, resulting in ongoing vertigo and headaches. Post concussion syndrome is a beast. So are the residual effects of years of emotional, sexual and violent abuse that was perpetrated on the child I was, and still am, mentally. Nor to be taken lightly is my Bipolar Disorder and the side effects of the medicines that decrease the symptoms. Or so many other pain issues I deal with daily.

       When I go easy on myself, and take time to reflect on the beautiful gift of life that God has given me. And the undeserved forgiveness and mercy he bestows daily, then my heart is eased and it doesn’t matter quite as much if I have some confusion each day. I am grateful.

     

  • A Message to Myself

    A Message to Myself

    …from a year ago…

     I have been crying again. here, there everywhere. Are these tears sure indicators of a heart? if indeed they are, is it a good one? A kind one? A redeemable one?

     Who knows the answer, but my God. I used to think I knew who I was, I thought of myself at various times as funny, cute, cool. Other times as evil, stupid, ugly. perhaps at the same time

     I just cant find that girl anymore. Perhaps I’m in the Bipolar empty place. the desert I disappear in. Where drifting sand blows over my pale flesh until I cant even find myself. it’s the vacant time that comes when the air is let out of my happy balloon. All the excitement of my recent accomplishments has evaporated, and there is nothing left

    .

     My friend Beverly, who died… she knew when I would come to this place. She was an Air Force Veteran, and she would call me in the morning : “Get up Soldier! Splash some cold water on your face and get over here!” I counted alot on her strength to pull me out of this vapor lock.

    But shes gone, for now.

     I have to find a way out on my own. But then I really already know the way, because she also reminded me that I’m never alone. I always have help. and He is stronger than my heart and knows all things. He reaches down into this dark place to offer me His hand. I dont have to sit here in the dark anymore.

    °Z

     I dont have to be profound, or special. I dont have to be pretty or anything. I just have to trust. He knows me. He knows who I truly am. And He will never abandon me.So I wont give up, or wallow anymore in self pity or loathing. Not now, not tonight. Ok

     I dont have to know my name, or my past, or remember anything except that I belong to God. He sent his perfect Son here to die for me, he loves me THAT MUCH. i know this. And now I feel safe, and loved, and Im not empty nor afraid right now.

     Thank you, Dear God.

  • Dead Tired

    Oh Joyful heart, where are you today? From so much light I now feel only pain.

    Where did my optimism run away to hide,

    Why now this dread that cannot be denied?

    She thought she had come away unscathed, from the turmoil, the abuse

    …and rage.

    But disease was just below the surface all along, and now the Piper must be paid…

    Oh senseless one, unreasonable and blind, don’t mind your feeble, fluctuating mind, because as your marbles leave you, they are cast: to the wind and to infinity, at last.

    She had packed up all her winter clothes, put away her childhood toys, went to bed under many uncertain memories

    Must…hold…on. Must…hold…fast.

    Faith is a slippery pig. Love is a memory.

  • The Silent Jubilee

    The Silent Jubilee

    My love of saturated color is showing!!