Just a poem

Sadness isn’t the word…

By Catra Lynxey Tigress



Today you left me all alone

Today I walked by myself

They say someone out there

carries you when you’re alone

but I don’t believe the fairy tale

I’m too old for that


Today you left me all alone

I know I’ll be OK


But not today

Today I walk alone

Just like that tired song


Today you left me all alone

I can’t always bear the pain

but I know I’m strong

I know it will be OK

It’s not easy to smile

No longer easy to pretend


Today you left me all alone

And I can’t mourn anymore

I forgot how to be numb

I forgot how to stop

I need a hug

But I can’t hug myself the same


Today you left me all alone

And now

I have to walk away too

Will I see you again?

Rainbow bridges or a fake heaven?

Maybe one day it’ll be OK…


Just not


This path is broken

My heart doesn’t know





Sia’s Chandelier song and video. What happened when I listened to it and paid attention.

I liked this song from the first time I heard it to the last time I heard it…which was recently because I watched the video.  Only I thought it was Rihanna singing, not Sia.  I thought it had a good tune and I enjoyed it. I never really paid attention to the lyrics.  Then I watched the video and saw people calling it porno.  Say what?!

I saw a little girl dancing, granted it was an odd type of dance as she’s jagged in some places and looking like she’s going mad in others but in general, this girl is, well… dancing!   There’s no porno moves, she’s not being overly sexual, she’s just doing a dance in an empty, albeit decrepit looking, house by herself.  Oh but people like to make noise, don’t they?  She’s dancing in a flesh coloured leotard and she’s wearing a bit of makeup.  Oh my god, sound the alarms!  Kid being exploited!  Let’s get serious.  At first glance, I thought it was just a kid in a house dancing around because her parents weren’t home so she had free roam.  What’s a girl to do but put on makeup and run around naked?!  No?  Y’all didn’t do that as kids?  Hmmm…. OK… fiiiiinnnneee then!   I know my kid liked to run around naked when she was a toddler and I admit, the freedom of naked is nice but well, we’re a civilised society aren’t we?  No no, we must wear clothes at all times!  Hell, I’m still waiting for people to start taking showers and baths in swimsuits because god forbid we’re ever naked… people have sex with clothes on, all we need is a crotchless panty that looks full and a fly with the zipper open but in general god no, we don’t touch skin!  Oy….

So yeah, I can see why people are calling this porn or why it’s disturbing to see someone run naked and free.  But is it right?  Not if you’re so sexualised yourself (read: you need to get laid) that you see everything as some kind of sexual act.  So please, take measures into your own hands (if you can’t find someone else) and CHILLAX!!


Seriously, stop looking for things that aren’t there!   Anyway, back to the song.   From what I’m told, it’s supposed to be about Sia’s journey through alcoholism.  The video makes sense now.  If you’ve ever been depressed or addicted, this might make sense to you.  As a child, all you can do is cope with what little control you have over circumstances.  You’re vulnerable and in a sense, naked, for all to see but you can’t let them see.  You must be the perfect child or something went wrong and you get beaten.  I don’t know if Sia got beaten but I did.  I wasn’t perfect enough.

Maybe now the naked and free comment I made earlier makes better sense to you now or maybe you still think I’m weird.   No biggie.  The point is, the little girl in the video is doing what she can.  She’s trying to dance her way through this hell of a life.  She has no parents or they’re absent, she has no food, she has no on really there for herself… she’s drowning in her own life.  That’s addiction.  And in a sense, depression is a type of addiction.  You’re addicted to being sad or to being taken cared of or something like that.  At least that’s how it was for me.

It was much easier to be sad than to actually do something about it.  Emotional growth is a bitch and it’s hard to do.  I imagine kicking off an addiction is similar if not worse than that.  It’s easier to medicate yourself with something than to deal with something for real.  The emotional pain you felt as a child.  Easier to drink/smoke it away, eat it away, cry it away, sell yourself short, put yourself down, ANYTHING to make it go away outside of facing it…  It’s a lot harder to face those demons when you’re sober… a lot harder to slay them when you know what they are and what they’ve done to you.  So yeah, I understand how one can stay addicted for ever.  Some just never want to move on…

Let’s move on to the lyrics:

Party girls don’t get hurt/Can’t feel anything, when will I learn/I push it down, push it down

When I was at my worst, this is how I felt.  I was numb and I spent many years being numb.  Not hurt, not happy, not anything, just surviving my own worst war.  I pushed everything down and I avoided confrontation of any kind.  I wasn’t promiscuous, I didn’t do anything stupid, didn’t gamble my money away, and I didn’t get into any addictions.  And by that I mean I didn’t go out and get drunk, do drugs, or smoke things.  I just drew, listened to music, and I slept, a lot.

She continues:

I’m the one “for a good time call”/Phone’s blowin’ up, they’re ringin’ my doorbell/I feel the love, feel the love

I’ve heard drunk or wasted girls always get attention because they’re so “easy” and lord knows boys like easy girls.  They don’t have to pay for sex, just find the wasted chick and go there.  The girl, starving for affection, goes yeah I’m being loved!  And I can relate to this in some weird way.  When I was younger, all I wanted was love but it never happened.  When I got older I jumped from boyfriend to boyfriend and it didn’t really matter who he was.  I didn’t get sexual with all of them but the feeling was the same.  As long as I was with “someone” I was OK.  I was loved.  This, sadly, translated to sex equals love.  And though I still didn’t get promiscuous, I had sex every chance I had and everywhere I could, which of course, the guy I was with loved.  Up until recently, I had yet to meet a guy who didn’t love to have sex every day at least once or thrice…  But the sex was always empty.  I loved the moment, but not the after.  With my last ex I felt like I had sold out my soul.  Thinking back, I played it safe, but I could have easily been a promiscuous girl.

Sia’s Pre-Chorus goes like this:

1,2,3 1,2,3 drink/1,2,3 1,2,3 drink/1,2,3 1,2,3 drink/Throw ’em back, ’til I lose count

I think mine went more like 123 boink… you get what I mean… keep going til I can’t feel anymore…  Til I’m sore and walking funny because I know I was loved right…  I was delusional… so was the girl in this song…

And we move into the chorus:

I’m gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier/I’m gonna live like tomorrow doesn’t exist/Like it doesn’t exist
I’m gonna fly like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry/I’m gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier

I lived a lot like this too.  My chandelier was moving on through life but not really living.  I lived like tomorrow didn’t exist and as I child I had so hoped it didn’t… but well, as you can see… it did..  I cried at night and prayed to die… I cried in the morning when I didn’t… those tears were hot and when they dried, it felt like slime from a slug, but it was proof I was still alive…and at the time, that wasn’t a good thing.  As I got older, the rest of the chorus resonates with me.

It goes like this:

But I’m holding on for dear life, won’t look down won’t open my eyes/Keep my glass full until morning light, ‘cos I’m just holding on for tonight/Help me, I’m holding on for dear life, won’t look down won’t open my eyes/Keep my glass full until morning light, ‘cos I’m just holding on for tonight/On for tonight

I had given up the dream of dying so my job was just to survive the day or the parts where it wasn’t OK to sleep.  I held on to what dear life I had…that light inside all of us…but it was buried under everything else.  I didn’t look anywhere, didn’t do anything, I just floated along in life, aimless and helpless.  I kept my “glass full” at night by sleeping.  But the feeling was the same… if I could sleep…I could get away from this hell…  I could live while I slept…I could dream and be somewhere else.  That’s how my book came about… all those dreams kept me sane…  It’s why I called it “In Dreams She Slept” and why it went from one book to a series.  I put it up in Kindle if anyone is interested or you can message me but  I’m not going to talk about it here.  I added writing to the mix of music, art, and sleeping.  This helped me more than any therapy had ever done.  Now let’s me go back to the song.

Sia continues:

Sun is up, I’m a mess/Gotta get out now, gotta run from this/Here comes the shame, here comes the shame

I was a mess because I slept too much… the shame wasn’t in sleeping… the shame was that I had to live this life.  That I was sure everyone could tell I was messed up…and I was…  I was all kinds of screw up in my own head.  I worked but didn’t do anything brilliant.  I ate but couldn’t taste anything. I couldn’t smell the roses even if I wanted to because everything was always poisoned.   In Sia’s song, the shame came from being that “drunk girl” again.  And from what I’m told, people who drink or do drugs can’t help themselves.  Even if they want to stop, they can’t because the shame throws them into another spiral which makes them want to get drunk/wasted again.  In my case, it was the I’m worthless so why am I hear spiral.  And I fell deeper and deeper into depression or what I called, fatigue.

Sia’s song, after this, goes back to pre chorus and chorus but the message is that all you want to do is hold on… pass the horrid by medicating yourself any way you can.  Fly like a bird through the night… you’re blind but keep going anyway…  you go crazy in your own head…perhaps you go crazy out in the real world too…and there’s nothing you can do because you’re spinning around in circles and nothing you can do stops that.

In my case I went to get therapy and I got into more trouble.  It wasn’t until I faced my demons that everything stopped spinning.  Now therapy works for some people and for others it’s a huge disaster.  It was for me.  It made me need to hide everything I ever felt because I needed to stay out of the mental institution.  I had to pretend I was more or less normal or else I would die for real…  And by that time, it’s not what I wanted.  I had a child, you see, and I was alone.  Dying was NOT an option.  So I swallowed more fears and drank away my tears.  I was… normal…

It could have been easy to drink my trouble away.  It could have been easy to smoke them or drug them away.  But that wasn’t me… I became a control freak, which oddly enough, I’m told, so are some addicts.   So can I really say I wasn’t addicted to anything?  I don’t know…  I could argue I was addicted to sex and I was addicted to sleeping…I also became a hoarder…not to extremes in any of these categories, mind you, but the traits are still there.

The thing about addiction, depression, and everything else in life is that the only one who can “fix it” is you.  You are the ONLY key!  And like I said, the demons are very hard to slay and you have to go through more tears and more emotional hell before you can come out the other side.  I’m no longer depressed.  Now I have to deal with different demons.  I’m not out of the woods at all, but I’m further down the road then I was from childhood, to teens, to mid 20’s.   So if you’re struggling with something, please don’t despair.  There IS a way out and there IS hope.  And if you need an ear, a shoulder, a hand (as much as I can hold your hand via internet, I mean) give me a jingle.  I don’t know if I’ve already said too much but I hope at least some of it helps you.  Music saved my life and it still saves my soul from time to time.  People tell stories through music, art, and writing.  My drawings/paintings, so far, haven’t told a story, at least not to me, so I tell mine through words, but I hope between all of us (writers, artists, musicians) we can both heal or help those that need it.

Narcissistic Personality Disorder Vs. Depression. They really aren’t that different from each other!

I was talking to a friend about NPD and I said it was a choice, whether conscious or unconscious, it’s still a choice like depression.  But who would choose to be depressed or to be NPD?  Well… if the world is your oyster and you can get whatever you want… wouldn’t you be tempted too?  I’ll illustrate similarities in a minute.  The NPD info comes from Wikipedia which isn’t always the best source but it helps.  The Depression part comes from observation and studies in psychology because doctors kept trying to say I was depressed and wanted to keep drugging me.   I said I was tired, not depressed, so I studied the thing.   And you know what?  I was depressed.  But I didn’t take any drugs.  I instead, made a different choice.  And yes, life is harder when you’re “not depressed” but I think it’s better this way.  At least I’m no longer taking advantage of people.  Btw, I’m still tired but that happens when you stay up too late and work…

NPD is a personality disorder in which a person is excessively preoccupied with personal adequacy, power, prestige and vanity, mentally unable to see the destructive damage they are causing to themselves and to others in the process.

Depression:  The world is about YOU and what is wrong with YOU and how the rest of the world seems to be against YOU.  That person is unable to see that their selfishness affects others.  “I don’t feel like it, so I’m not going to” is a common theme among the depressed.   Relationships and bonds are destroyed because that person “doesn’t feel like it” and thus entitled to everything else.  People should cater to THEM.

Depression doesn’t LOOK like people worry about power, prestige, vanity, or personal adequacy but they do.  Why else would they worry about what they “do not have” if it didn’t bother them?

Back to NPD: Some people diagnosed with a narcissistic personality disorder are characterized by exaggerated feelings of self-importance. They have a sense of entitlement and demonstrate grandiosity in their beliefs and behavior. They have a strong need for admiration, but lack feelings of empathy.

Ask a depressed person if they care about others or others’ feelings.  They don’t.  They only care that they’re the ones depressed and that others should help THEM.  Like I said, they feel entitled to being the victim and to be helped.  Perhaps it’s not an obvious grandiosity as in NPD but if the world is all about them, well, they must feel like gods then?   The thing is, the depressed person isn’t as obvious as the NPD.  They have a strong need for admiration too, why else would they be constantly saying woe is me, please help me, I need attention/love/etc. etc.

I am depressed virtually means “don’t ask anything of me.  I won’t give anything back. Just cater to me.”  Basically it’s a carte blanche to do NOTHING.  Ever.  As long as they’re “depressed.”

NPD:     Expects to be recognized as superior and special, without superior accomplishments, expects constant attention, admiration and positive reinforcement from others, envies others and believes others envy him/her, is preoccupied with thoughts and fantasies of great success, enormous attractiveness, power, intelligence, lacks the ability to empathize with the feelings or desires of others, is arrogant in attitudes and behavior, has expectations of special treatment that are unrealistic

Did I not just pretty much say this is typical of the depressed mind?  With the exception of envy.  I don’t think an depressed person thinks others are envious of them.  However, if people saw just how much the depressed person got catered to objectively, they probably would be envious.  The depressed person thinks “Once I get out of depression I’m going to be awesome!”  But of course, they sabotage themselves so this never happens and therefore always stay “depressed.”  They think the world should just open up their arms because they’re depressed.  Much like the last line in the NPD paragraph.

Are depressed people arrogant?  Sure they are.  Because if you don’t cater to them you’re an evil person.  After all, how can you look at this pathetic person and turn your back on them?  How can you be so cruel?

NPD: Other symptoms in addition to the ones defined by DSM-IV-TR include: Is interpersonally exploitative, i.e., takes advantage of others to achieve his or her own ends, has trouble keeping healthy relationships with others, easily hurt or rejected, appears unemotional, and exaggerating special achievements and talents, setting unrealistic goals for himself/herself.  NPD is characterized by dramatic, emotional behavior, and an over-inflated sense of self-importance that is in the same category as antisocial and borderline personality disorders.  

Which as I illustrated, is the same with depression.  NPD however, probably doesn’t cry in public and probably doesn’t sit at home alone thinking what else can I do?  Then again, maybe they do…  but I think NPD’s tend to be more “outwardly.”  Kind of like the extroverts of the DSM book.  

NPD: Narcissists have such an elevated sense of self-worth that they value themselves as inherently better than others, when in reality they have a fragile self-esteem, cannot handle criticism, and often try to compensate for this inner fragility by belittling or disparaging others in an attempt to validate their own self-worth. Comments and criticisms about others are vicious from sufferers of NPD, in an attempt to boost their own poor self-esteem.

Depression: if you critisise them, they will buckle and cry.  How can you be so cruel?  So you have to be on pins and needles so you don’t “hurt” them more.  What this means is, you can’t ever say anything to them.  You can’t even opinionate because they see that as an attack.  Their battle words is how can you hurt me so badly when I’m already depressed?  You want to make me suicidal?  So they don’t use belittling to “disarm” their opponent.  They use guilt.

NPD: Instead of behaving in a way that shows how they are feeling in the moment, they behave in the way that they feel they are expected to behave or what gives them the most attention.

The depressed person does whatever they need to do to get the most attention and take advantage of everything given and always wants to take and get more.  They are never satisfied.   However, compared to NPD, depression is more vocal about how shitty people feel about themselves.  NPD’s won’t ever say omg I suck monkey balls and that’s why I need to deflect your words so you won’t see it.  Depression says I suck monkey balls so badly I think I ate maggots from last week’s kill!  You have no idea how horrible that is!!  It’s never mole hills, only mountains.

The interesting thing is for depression there are a million drugs, for NPD?  Not so much.  Why?  A chemical reaction/disorder, what have you?  Sure, sometimes chemicals get out of whack and it may cause for some mood swings and what have you… but if the doctors and pharmaceutical companies can make a million dollars off drugs as “placebos” wouldn’t you jump on that wagon too?  And what if it was like the mechanics at a bad auto shop?  They break something else so you need more “maintenance” or another “part” for your “broken” car?   Think about it.   Depression never comes with just ONE pill.  Often it starts out that way and then another and another and another…  it’s like everything else.  You take one pill, makes you better, next thing you know you’re taking 20…  The solution isn’t to take more pills.  The solution is to look around and within you to find out WHAT the heck is going on with you!

Now I’m sure I’ll get flack for this.  People will say how mean or cruel I am for saying that depression is a choice.  I can assure you that if NPD’s and Depressed people took a damn good LOOK at themselves, from the inside out, the depression and NPD would be gone.  The thing is, instrospection is HARD…it’s messy… it’s UGLY as hell… it’s the worst thing in the world, I think.   But once you do it, you can learn SO MUCH about yourself and the things you can achieve and my god, the things you’ve overcome!!  You will look at yourself as some kind of hero for yourself.  The real question however, isn’t can you do it?  The real question is “Can I give it up?”

Depression, and I presume NPD, is like a drug addiction.   When people cater to you, when you get people to do your bidding, when they never ask anything of you in return… well… can you really give that up and actually start doing work for yourself?  If you have person slaves…  why would you “return to sender” on them?   It’s very lucrative… it’s enticing… it’s magnificent… wrong… but damn awesome!   I STILL have my moments of wow… I used to get so much more…all I had to do was cry or bitch… now I have to do everything on my own… this sucks!  The world no longer sees me with the “you’re broken” eyes and I sometimes miss the depression.  I miss the attention and the lack of work.  I mean seriously, who likes working?  OK, maybe I’m still depressed…. or maybe now I’m insane… but would I give up all this work and go back to depressed?  I don’t think so…  you know why?  Because now I know better.

I am not completely fixed… I have other issues to work on… depression still comes and says “hi” once in a while but I say hello, I wallow, and then send it away again.  Depression, much like I hear drugs and alcohol and other bad habits, never helped me get better.  It let me stay in one place and also made things worse.  So no, I’m not going back to that.

And maybe someone out there needs my help.  Maybe someone out there needs me to show them how to “get out” of depression.  And many will balk and call me insensitive.  That’s OK. I’m honest and I’m blunt.  I also have thick skin.  I can take the comments.  At least depression left me with that gift and I’m OK with that.  Thick skin is better than thin skin when it comes to comments.

Think you have it rough? Try again, mate. You’re in PARADISE!!

Out and about on my bike when this homeless looking guy falls in front of me.  Like one sec he’s standing, the next he’s flat on the ground.  I ask repeatedly if he’s OK and he doesn’t answer… just has a glazed look in his eyes, his groceries all over the floor.  I stop and help him up… he reeks of god knows how long since he’s had new clothes. (washed?)

He doesn’t have b.o. but smells like pee… hence the clothes comment.   ANYWAY, no one else stops or cares, they just keep on going like this happens all the time.  Buggers!

That’s upsetting… more upsetting is, I think this dude is either mental or he’s drunk, I can’t tell… all I know is he’s not “there” to have a conversation with…so I do my best to help him get his stuff together in a huge black plastic bag and he mumbles…  He thanks me for helping.  His groceries contain pet food…but I see no pets around him… is this what he eats?  He has a large sandwich, water, and chips too… is this his meal for the month? the week? the year? I have no idea… he’s pretty thin and aged…

He speaks English but I guess the question “are you OK?” is something he cannot comprehend… so far gone he is, that it’s a dumb/ridiculous question and I feel badly for him.  But what can I do?  I’m just a girl on a bike and there’s no one around to help… do I call the police? the ambulance?  I don’t know…  but for the moment he’s OK… he stands there, at the corner, blank look in his eyes… can’t go anywhere.

I tell him maybe he should sit and rest a little before going to where ever he was going… but he gives me a yeah right, look… maybe he’s thinking if I get down, I’ll never get up again… 😦  I know I’ve had those days…  I say no more and just do what I can to get him stable.

I look around and he thanks me again so I leave him be, but I can’t forget those eyes… such death in there and such sadness… despair beyond despair and here I’m bitching bc it’s too hot and I’m riding a bike…   Those eyes were vacant and empty but at the same time wanting to be ALIVE…and I couldn’t help him…  I wouldn’t even know how to start…

And I wonder… How did this happen?  Did he start drinking and never knew how to stop?  Did he get kicked out?  Was he part of the military’s forgotten?  How does one get to that point… and yet he keeps going… he’s got more courage than a lot of people I know.

I hope he gets better… I hope there’s help somewhere for him… I hope tonight isn’t so cold… I can’t imagine where he sleeps…

And I feel so ungrateful for bitching.  Slap in the face of reality.  I have nothing to complain about.  Nothing at all.

Like Phil Collins sang,  “It’s just another day for you and me, in paradise.”