The message I am selling

2014-04-14 20.21.10

What am I selling? Well, when I first started my blog Stop the Stigma it was to get on my soapbox and bitch about stuff. You know, those who used politically incorrect words to identify people with special needs and people with any kind of mental health condition. I had followed a few blogs on various topics and the first one that stirred me to start this was Herding Cats.

I am not an expert but yes, I am an advocate and realized Stigma went a long way and I wanted to also talk about racism, bullying, sexism, homophobia and any label we put on anyone to discriminate them. And whether it is intentional or not…it is still NOT okay.

We often talk about the misunderstanding of mental health because we do not see it but there is also the misinterpretation of chronic pain. There are so many physical ailments and conditions that cause pain to people at various degrees. Unfortunately, these people are often misjudged or have little or no sympathy because no one can see scars or physical proof of the debilitating condition. So that too is included in this blog. And this latter item has touched me for suffering myself, with chronic pain, I feel supported here. I also admire these heroes that suffer so much more than me and share positive posts of support and encouragement to their readers.

If I were to choose a word of what I am selling, I guess it is awareness…creating an awareness on such issues that are important. I often read in comments, “Gee, I had not thought about that.” That is my bonus.

I never realized that I had joined a community that was so caring and the interests varied so much. Poets, writers would comment here and there and that gave me a glimpse on other possibilities to write. So that is when I started my other blog, Cher Shares. This was a place to express myself in writing with narratives and poems. I learned and am still learning from amazing and generous creative writers here to improve on what I do have a passion…writing. Thanks to interesting blogs that offer prompts to tickle my muse, I have produced more. What am I selling at Cher Shares? Nothing, really, I am just sharing with friends and WordPress friends my thoughts in stories and poetry.

I love to talk about things
that are close to me,
mean something to me,
and that is my message
at Stop The Stigma;
I enjoy writing
in prose and poetry
sharing my humble narratives
with WordPress relatives
at my blog, Cher Shares.

 

© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/04/24

Submitted for: The Dungeon Prompts, Season 2, Week 17.  The message we are selling  

Kevin helps a friend being bullied – Walk so Kids Can Talk presented by BMO

Kevin helps a friend being bullied – Walk so Kids Can Talk presented by BMO.

The truths that need to be heard: A counsellor’s story, by Cheryl-Lynn – Walk so Kids Can Talk presented by BMO

The truths that need to be heard: A counsellor’s story, by Cheryl-Lynn – Walk so Kids Can Talk presented by BMO.

Margueritte (shadorma)

Rock Garden

(Shadorma)

Margueritte!

enfin tu fleuris

en vigueur

en beauté

s’étirant le cou au ciel

parmi toutes ces roches.

*************

© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/04/05

*************

Oh Daisy!

at last, you’ve blossomed

in splendour

and in strength

stretching your neck to the sky

among all these rocks

Written for: MindLoveMiseryMisery – Shadorma Prompt #2

Don’t give up

KellieElmorePhotoPrompt
KellieElmorePhotoPromptFWF

If it were a child she carried for 40 weeks

more or less,

she would find a way, she seeks

courage to fight moments of despair

patience to meet times of frustration

forgiveness to any bouts of commotion

knows a child does not comprehend,

a child expects unconditional love

a child deserves absolute compassion and regard

and then shall she take to this to mean

that Life as she sees it, feels it,

smelling vomit, tasting sweetness,  serene

Life as it hurts, cuts bit by bit

Life with its multiple personality

Life with its joys and glee

Life with its mundane and bizarre

is all she will get here, near and far

only once in this time around…

and so she will hold it with kindness

and unconditional love and fondness

as if it were her baby she carried

for 40 weeks, more or less

and she shall find solace that she is,

Life is, simply…

meant to be…

When Life seems too difficult to bear, don’t despair

Treat it as your child…unconditional and loving care.

© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/04/05

Written for FWF

 

 

Holy C Melan

deadlygothicdesigns.webs.com
deadlygothicdesigns.webs.com

Her nickname is Melan,

she is of sly, slithering species

tantalizing in her distinct bouquet

mesmerizing in her discrete array

of victims of her choosing

dripping bliss as she`s oozing

her prisoners of despair

suffer anguish in her care.

Hallowed in her divine

prowess she will define

the true painful meaning

finds her prey ever demeaning

suffering the wrought of her ability

winning casualties of her torment

sinking teeth of Ms. Melan C. Holy

whilst innocent souls lament.

© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/04/05 All Rights Reserved

Too often the powers of depression or long dreaded visits of melancholy can bring a person down. Not everyone has to be diagnosed with clinical, situational or other forms of depression to relate to these feelings of despair and I thought this poem describes the tormenting visits of this Melan C Holy baby.

Originally submitted at Stigmahurtseveryone

Celestial brush strokes

I certainly never hide the fact
that I love to take many photos of the sky…
cloudy, sunny and especially sunsets.
Fortunately, I am able
to see amazing sunsets on our rooftop
at work in the milder weather….
so soon I will be able to capture
those hues of magenta, orange and
purplish blues mixed in the horizon.
But my photos are very amateur;
not having proper equipment, I feel
I can never capture the beauty
that this blogger/photographer does,
nor do I have her talent.
And that is why artists need admirers
and viewers as I enjoy to look
with regard, appreciation and admiration.

The first image I saw when I woke up this morning was this beautiful masterpiece that nature creates day after day but only a few select eyes can capture and actually share with the world.

This is one of them.

Check out Michelle Marie’s blog at Tell Me About It 
to see the endless images she creates and
the lovely words of inspiration she adds in her poetry.

 

http://michellemarieantellg.files.wordpress.com/2014/04/thebigpicture-1-of-1.jpg

 

 

Their spirits unite

tranquil

readying for night-

fall…still,

this moment

so serene

cascades in between

daylight

and

twilight;

celestial beings

gather

their brushes…

together…

brush,

stroke,

hush!

and admire,

brush

that does caress

our skyline

with finesse,

sweep

here, there…

with endless

enduring wear…

Now shush!

hear the chorale

breathing life

effortless…

mime

Ahhhhh!

rhyme

meditative

and sublime

now hush!

hear my heart-

beat, rush

as I see this

vision of

divine bliss

a masterpiece

melts in the horizon.

© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/04/05

All rights reserved for poems and photography. If you are interested in sharing or knowing more about this photo, please contact the original artist/photographer Michelle Marie.

Thank you, Michelle Marie, for giving me permission to display and share your masterpiece here you had originally given as an offering to Belinda

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’ve got your back

I have always believed that books find me.  You know when you are searching through stacks of books at a library or when you have a list of authors and the book  you want is not on the shelf?  But hey,! your eyes are drawn to the title or the book jacket of the book next to where your find should have been.  You take out the book, read a bit about the author, perhaps a snippet about the novel and you bring it home. You discover you truly enjoy this author and you read several of his or her published works. You have made a new friend, the characters in the book are a part of your life for a little while.  Has that ever happened to you?

I find that happens with people too.  Some people come into your life because you were meant to meet…there is a reason, a purpose. Years ago when I was completing my internship as a Family Life Educator, I became closer with my supervisor and my mentor.  My mentor became a good friend, a confidante and spiritual guide in many ways.  I aspired to be like her…if only a tiny morsel of her some day.  She was a very compassionate person.

When I completed my internship, I was hired on contract to continue offering life skill workshops for the rest year at this community clinic. My friend and mentor, had worked as a Family Life Educator at a private school on the hill of our beautiful city, for almost 10 years.  She wanted to take a sabbatical and complete her degree in English Literature. (I never saw the relationship with writing and English there too considering how much I have turned to writing in the past year.)   She asked me if I would replace her at the school and she would recommend me to the headmistress for an interview.

I was so excited.  I had returned to university as a mature student, graduating in a less conventional degree than our province was familiar in the francophone community, so finding work, I was aware, would be a bit of a challenge.  So many institutions were not familiar with the intensive and comprehensive programme our department that Applied Social and Human Sciences offered students especially with our rigorous applied characteristic. We had to apply much of our learning to ourselves, be in counselling if we wanted to pursue counselling courses and to take our learning to a higher level and an option to take part in the internship and be certified.  But, all this hard work was not known, hence not recognized  in our province. This opportunity D was offering me was a godsend!  A great way to improve on my skills as well as get experience.  So I said, yes.

A few weeks later, I had an appointment for the interview.  I was so nervous. I had let my punk shaved head hairdo grow out a bit and it was now a more natural colour (did away with the orange or purple) and dark blonde on a short bob looked just right.  I wore a long skirt and blazer with pumps (not time to wear my comfy Doc Martens) and arrived twenty minutes before my scheduled time.  I was so impressed driving up Mount Pleasant in my humble Renaud V…up, up, up, the steep hill avoiding the rear-view mirror as I would visualize my car flipping over backwards.  The houses around this school were like being somewhere in England with the old and beautiful  stone houses; they were spectacular!

I sat quietly across the secretary’s desk. She had a nice warm smile. I sat and admired the woodwork on the walls, the dark stained molding and started to get a bit nervous.  I decided to freshen up before the interview. The washroom was just in front of the secretary’s desk.   Final check in the mirror, lipstick applied, hair in place, I went to take my seat and waited again.  The secretary got a buzz, and that was the headmistress calling me into her office. I thanked her and turned around to walk into the office when the secretary called me softly, “Um, you may want to adjust your skirt a bit before going in Madame G’s office.”  I place my the palm of my hand along my hips to smooth my skirt and as I reach the back I feel a huge bulge! My eyes widen, my face turns white, then beet red…At that moment I quickly turn facing the secretary still wide-eyed and tug my skirt out of my pantyhose so quickly…no one could have noticed except Ms. S and me. Phew! I just exhaled in a loud whisper, “Thank  you” with pleading eyes and went into the office.

I got the position and taught social skills and sex ed.  there for five years and Ms. S will forever be my friend and saviour…her offering that very first day, to me was like hearing, “I’ve got your back!” in more ways than one {smiles}.

© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/04/04

Written for: Dungeon Prompts – Season 2, Week 14: Entertain with the Mundane

Bad guys never win

Jean Beliveau

The bell rang and Tina rang as fast as she could to her locker, grabbed her coat and got on her bike. She could hear Barb and her friends whispering, “Hurry up, let’s get her.” They trailed behind on their bikes but fortunately Tina was taller than all of them, longer legs and bigger bike. She was a good 5 blocks ahead. Tina looked over her shoulder and knew she wouldn’t have to go in hiding, she’d lose them quick enough once she got to the foot bridge. None of them lived near there and they didn’t know all the shortcuts behind the church.

Safe, this time but what about all the other days. She’d have to tell someone sooner or later, she couldn’d stand this. For the past 5 weeks four of her peers at school had heard of a rumour spreading about her father. That was Barb with her big mouth and distorted stories. But the students believed and and Tina was so ashamed. Rumour was that her father was a “drunk and robber”. She looked at her nails in disgust. She had none left, she had started chewing the skin now she was so nervous. What could she do to stop those girls from chasing her and yelling, “Your daddy’s a drunk and a robber. You’re a loser , loser, loser!!”

She dug into her school back to get out a sheet her teacher gave all the student to have signed by parents. She didn’t remember what it was. She hadn’t been listening much, she was too distracted now. She was always daydreaming so she wouldn’t have to think all the time.

Later that night her mother gave her the signed permission slip, kissed her on the cheek and said, “Good luck, darling. I hope you win.” “Huh?” Tina looked perflexed.

“The permission if you are chosen to spend an afternoon with Jean Beliveau of Les Canadiens de Montréal and you get to meet the entire team.”  How could she not have heard this…OMG, Jean Beliveau was her hero!! He was the gentleman of all gentlemen in hockey!

The next day, the teacher announced that she had all the permission slips. The teacher was to choose one student and put it in fishbowl with the other classes of the school. They had to wait until the end of the day 10 mintues before the bell rang.

At the 3:30 p.m. there was an announcement on the speaker, “The runner ups have all been submitted…and the winner is…Tina Gagnon.” Tina could not believe it. She looked up at her teacher…her bullies gave her looks with daggers but the rest of the class clapped their hands. Tina`s cheeks turned red. Her teacher asked her and the 4 students who had been bullying her to stay in after the bell. OMG, now what, Tina thought. Her belly was churning and she thought she was going to throw up.

The classroom was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Mrs. Grant leaned on the front of her desk and looked at each child. Tina had no clue what was going on.

“I know you are wondering why I asked you all to stay. I received a disturbing phone call from the ticket master at the train station two weeks ago.” Tina gulped. This was her hiding place when the bullies caught up to her. She would stop at the train station that was half way home, run into the washroom and lock the door and pray and wait and pray for the bullies to get tired and leave. She had been doing this for a month now.

Mrs. continued. “Monsieur Castonguay said he was concerned about 4 girls who were chasing a certain student here and yelling curse names and chanting things about her father. Do you know anything about this, girls?” The four culprits lowered their heads in shame. Tina just managed to blush…it seemed the only thing she could manage at this point.

“After he called I asked a student from another class to follow Tina and see who was chasing her. You see monsieur knew Tina very well and asked her what the problem was but she refused to name her assailants. She even begged him not to tell her mother or the school. Now that is pretty darn brave and nice of her don`t you think? So my other student came back with a report after following Tina and her “chasers” for two weeks and gave me the names of each student.

Now, I know who you all are and you know what? I am not going to tell your parents THIS TIME. I chose Tina`s name to be put in the runner ups to see monsieur Jean Belliveau because she deserves this treat. And that will be a lesson to all of you, that being mean and vindictive to anyone NEVER pays. Have I been understood?”

All four heads bobbed eagerly and Tina was no longer blushing but had the most radiant smile as she puffed out her chest and stared at her teacher.

© Cheryl-Lynn 2014/03/29

Written for: Tale Weaver’s Prompt # 1 – Reality, Meet My Fiction  March 27, 2014 by

You are stunning!

I looked at the clock and noticed there was an hour left on my shift. It was a busy evening alright. But I like that because time passes quickly.  I had done two hours of Live Chat and I was now back on the phones after my dinner break. It is odd to call our breaks anything but “breaks” because we can have lunch at 2p.m. and dinner/supper at 10 p.m. depending on the shifts we work and how we have arranged to make sure the service is adequately covered.

The phone rang…

“Hello, you’ve reach a counsellor.”  I could hear faint sobbing, soft whimpering…

“Take your time, it’s okay; just take all the time you need…are you safe?”

I hear a weak “yes” and she tells me her story. She was just discharged from hospital for her eating disorder. She weighed well under 100 pounds…I winced at the thought of her wasting away and thanked the Great Spirit that she was, in fact, alive. “They fattened me up so much I can’t stand it!” she wailed.

The change for her was difficult to bear. She needed support in slowly accepting her “healthy” body.  We talked a bit about what she could do to distract her thoughts and then she shared some sad stories of her past. Such sadness I choose not to share here, but this is what I wanted to remember …  her fight to live even if for a brief dangerous time in her life and how she tried to become invisible…literally.

We explored her passions.  She was an artist and singer/song writer. I was blessed hearing her sing briefly and for a fleeting moment, I could hear her smile…what an angelic voice…such beauty, it managed to transcend through the wires of telecommunication.  She promised to try to focus on her beauty…voice, passions, art, inner and outer beauty and would call back if she felt overwhelmed.

When got I home late that night,  I could not help but imagine this beautiful person and wrote a brief message I imagined sending to her:

Image source: Thestir.cafemom.com

Do you know that you are stunning?

the last few years, I could barely see you

so frail were you, hugging seemed daunting

what if I’d crushed your bones,

you were really so very tiny;

I remember seeing you back then…

the wind was blowing and I could swear

it was pushing you farther from where

I was sitting on the park bench waiting

watching, silently observing you wasting

away and praying for a miracle.

 

That was a while ago my friend,

now the miracle did transcend

you are beautiful just as you are.

Pity you don’t yet see that far long

but hopefully in due time

with your gifts of beauty and song

you will sing the words that rhyme

and you will finally see

what’s so clear to me.

I pray someday your insight

will see your beauty transcend

as well as in the light

of day…blessings, my dear friend.

© Cheryl-Lynn, 2014/03/14

 Inspired by my original post at StopTheStigma You’re Beautiful