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carrie fisher may not be on this earth anymore but she still has the biggest dick energy of them all and that’s a Fact

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Alone

By CJ Dalton

Sometimes we can experience things that can change our world for good. Like when you get that feeling that another lost soul has walked through you, that icy, spine tingling sense that we aren’t alone. Even if it’s only for a second, the loneliness is gone. The emptiness of realizing that sometimes you will go from bed to bed throughout your life. Maybe with the person you trust the most in the world. Maybe with a person you only just met hours beforehand. Maybe with many, various people. But no matter what, we all will end up alone, no one beside us. We all lose someone.

Life is an art form. It’s an expression only you can decide. Every single one of us has a different path, different doors, just different. Every voice unique. Yet, there are billions of stories left untold. Millions of mysteries left unsolved. Thousands of words left unsaid. But yet, we all pray for a day when there is peace, yet people need the pain to get through the day.

I always viewed life as a jar of glitter. Such an beauty to admire, but yet when you open the jar and its spills what is on the inside, so many pieces are lost, some discarded and others just barely scraped back inside. Just enough to refill itself and repeat the same damn process. Like when you thought you met the one, opened your heart and soul to them, even your bed… just for them to upgrade to a better model, and leave you all alone. In a bed they will no longer return too.

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I am a woman...

By CJ Dalton

I am a woman who is independent, fierce, brave and strong. Yet I am afraid and worried about every damn thing. 

I am a woman who has been silenced. However, you better believe that one day I will speak my truth and be heard, even if I die trying.

I am a woman that will go at any lengths to protect the ones I love. Especially when my friends innocence was taken away from her on a walk she did everyday for sixteen years.

I am a woman who will not back down to a man who wants to control every aspect of my existence. Never again.

I am a woman that won’t let anyone have no one to talk too. The imprisonment of loneliness is something I would never want anyone to bare.

I am a woman that has a mental illness. It’s something that should be talked about so we can end the stigma on being a human.

I am a woman who puts kindness out into the world as it will always make it’s way back around.  Even if I am constantly told that I should stop being too nice to others.

I am a woman who tries to feel what it is like to be in the persons place before making any judgments on them. Therefore I must be over emotional and crazy for my own good.

I am a woman who wants to say fuck you to the man who did me wrong. Without you, I wouldn’t have the encouragement to be free.

I am a woman who will say thank you. Especially to those who help mold me into the woman I am today.

I am a woman who wants a better place for the next generation. As if I ever have a daughter, it would tear me into pieces to her the words “me too” come from her mouth.

I am a woman who supports women who give us hope. Even when hope seems to be gone. 

I am a woman who will admires women who are silence breakers and who are joining together to say times up. 

I am a woman who will tell women who are silent. No matter what you are brave for surviving, just keep going your story is far from over.

I am a woman who supports women who fight for a change in this world, for that I salute you. 

I am a woman.

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To My Family...

By  C.J.Dalton

To my family, I love you all so damn dearly but now that I have gotten older I have realized we are so far from the family norm. In school they taught me that being from a broken family meant your parents being separated. Now I realize that’s a lot of bullshit nonsense. Just because my mother and father are no longer together and are with other people it doesn’t mean that my family or home is broken. It means I have two homes with two sets of parents who love me unconditionally and also means I have two extra bonus families. I get twice as much love, support and Christmas presents. From this however, I have found my true meaning of a broken family all due to ones greed, which scares me how much one person can hold so much power other others due to fear.

When I was growing up I didn’t realize that I was being used as a pawn in a game I wasn’t supposed to know I was in. This game had no rules but if anyone else tried to play differently than the self proclaimed supreme of my family intended, there were consequences inflicted to others through an innocent child who was a bystander in a game of power and control. I was used as a pawn designed to destroy the other opponents in the game but also to act like a glue to keep us all together. I was the pinnacle member of the tribe to have on your side as others would follow but also as I was the easiest to discard, Without me they wouldn’t have had a foundation to build on or a weapon of negotiation when things went wrong. In this game the meaning of hope didn’t and still doesn’t exist. The downside of growing up is I now know what a broken heart feels like. And if I didn’t know then I sure do know now that they all tried there damn hardest to try and break one another. 

So here its goes; to my grandmother, a mother who has to live without her child. Who’s only aim is to be as cold as her heart, So others can feel the ice cold burn of the words she wounds with. Like the cunning sea witch Ursula in the Little Mermaid, which is ironic as my grandmother happens to look like her, she will manipulate to get her own way. Lie, twist and bend the truth to benefit her own weird needs. To seem like she can be the martyr of this fucked up game she helped start.

To my aunt, who can’t love another person as much as she loves herself. Who will gladly tear up anything that stands in her way to the complete domination of the family name. Who will gladly use a child as a weapon to help her with the complete destruction of a name I carry. She didn’t just use me in this fucked up mess but will gladly use her own child to get her own way. (If you are reading this I suggest you get some psychiatric help with that little issue)

To my rich aunt, who uses money as affection. Who will try and buy love like it can be sold and brought. As if love is an business transaction and not a display of commitment. Don’t worry thought she will then use money to cover her tracks, so it can be her alibi to why she is mainly absent in our lives, because who needs love when you can have a check for a couple of bucks. Who will also getting heavily drunk of liquor courage before digging herself into holes that her own sister caused. She will continue to go even deeper because she can’t talk to her own brother or his children without a bit of wine or whiskey. But sober? I can’t tell you... We don’t have the decency for her to stay sober enough to tell us she loves us and that she was wrong. Sometimes there isn’t a way of getting through to an old drunk.

However, neither of them are the person I want to address these issues to. So, to my father, you are my greatest friend. One who I will cherish until the end. I see how wounded by the war you were unfortunate to be born into. A war in which you do not belong. I will always see you as a strong, loving, caring and great man who’s only weakness is your strongest strength. Although you may not think it Dad but your willingness to love past all what has happened is your most powerful strength. You go through so much but you still come out with the brightest of smiles and a wave like you are the Queen of bloody England. It’s because of your fuck you persona our family tries to break you. Sometimes Dad they succeed but you always rise back up and willing to love them no matter what vicious words they used. Watching this makes me so proud to call you my Dad, from this you have taught me so much about life.

Dad, you taught me to always put good out into the word as it will always find it’s way back to you, even if it’s in the most unexpected way. You taught me to not take any shit from others. Even if they are supposed to love you no matter what. As you can not always be a doormat for the world to wipe all it’s crap off on. You taught me that every human is a human no matter what or who they are. Unless it’s something really bad you taught me not to judge anyone for their past actions and to give them a chance as all what matters is the present and the person they will be in the future. You taught me to always show sympathy and empathy towards others as there is already too much hate in the word. But most of all Dad, you taught me that if I am half the person you are I will be OK in life. I am so happy to have as much as a great mentor to teach me on how to be a decent human being. For this I will forever be grateful or all you do for us. And may we continue the family name the way it should be. 

I love you to the moon and back King Farticus, always your little Princess.

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I Am Not My Diagnosis

By C.J.Dalton

Sometimes, us as humans forget that others are humans too. We will see someone with a broken leg, we will say that we are so sorry and hope they are better soon. But when we hear someone has a mental illness, we will say that they are just attention seeking and that they should get over it. Outcasted. For what? That their minds work in a different way?

When I was a child, I was raised to respect and love every living thing in this world. To not judge but admire the world we live in. That in this world we are all strangers on journeys of our own trying to find a way. However, we have seemed to have lost sight in what we all are. Humans.

There’s no definition for a normal human being but there is on for insane and crazy. Apparently that looks like me,  my best friend, most likely a neighbor, a friend, a parent, a grandparent, a sister, a brother, a daughter or son. When you mention to someone you have a mental illness someone will point out that “you don’t look mentally ill” or “but why would you have friends and go out?” or my personal favorite “just get over it.” Like mental illness has a certain physique.

My depression will keep me locked away from the outside world. Hidden in my own bed. So no one can see my tears. I can just stay there for days and do nothing. My anxiety on the other hand makes sure I can’t leave the house or doing anything that isn’t perfect. Over and over again I will remind myself that I am fat and I need to lose weight. This brings me down, therefore I will stay in bed. But the voices will keep on shouting at me that I need to be skinnier. However, I will always remain in my bed. I always think I am too tall, I need to be smaller. I can’t change my height, so I will always walk with my head down so I can try and look smaller than I am. The one that often gets pointed out to me, mainly back when I was in school is that I am crazy. I have this sort of manic persona that doesn’t always appear. Not to my family or close friends, but in places where I want every single person to like me. I will be this big, overbearing character that will be too much and will take things way too far so people will notice and like me. I want them to notice me, I want them to love me because I can’t find a way to love myself.

Like any other human on the planet, I am daily reminded of my flaws. I am reminded that I need to lose weight, I am tall for a lady and I am definitely am a crazy chick. That I should just say to my mind, “you know what I am evicting you, fuck off.” What happens though when your mind is your only main companion? I may joke that I am a girl with three moods and several personalities, but I am still me? Right?

I came to the conclusion that I am not my diagnosis. I am the girl with the messed up sleeping pattern because I find it extremely difficult to fall asleep some nights and some mornings I find it extremely difficult to wake up. I am the girl who will love people for miles and miles because even though I know I am loved, I still just want to be loved and reminded that I am. I am that random nerdy girl who will quote Carrie Fisher to all her friends because she was afraid but did it anyway, but me? I only can do my best which never seems to be good enough. I will always be that girl who does the random of the craziest shit because to me life has no warning label. I am who I am, not a label, not a diagnosis. Plain old me. A simple human make her own journey into the abyss we call life. Just let me be as I am.

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I like you because you are you.

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Time Is Up

By CJ Dalton

Today, I felt free. Like a bird finally, let out of its cage. Where it can go to have its voice to be heard and listened too. However, it’s too late. The grandfather clock that sits in the in the hallway is on its last chime. Every tick is closer to my final breath. I have run out of time.

It all started when I saw a reflection of myself in a stranger’s face. Another broken soul stuck in a broken world. Like a cruel twist of fate, we were destined to meet and destined to fall apart. Almost as if we were the reasons for each other decent into the darkness of the sea loneliness and self-hatred drowns us in. Yet he had to disappear. Like he was a figment of my imagination. Gone. Just gone. I actually can’t remember a time before him. Was I happy? I can’t remember a time when I was actually happy. He gave me a glimpse of happiness and took it back quicker than I could let it sink in. He took that chance away.

So now I lay here, in the dead of the night wondering why aren’t I ever good enough for anyone to stay. Wishing he would see me for who I am. Wishing he would just try, not just for me but for himself. Hoping that he will start to see life for the potential he has. Not the doubt they put in his mind. My time is up but his time shouldn’t be. He should be the bird that gets let out of its cage. Replacing me to make room for him. As my heart is broken, in order to let him fly.

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The Falling Bridge

By CJ Dalton

To describe my mind is impossible. Even I don’t dare to venture towards my subconscious, yet I know what lies within. It is like being on top of a bridge you know is about to fall, collapse into rubble in the river that flows beneath. Yet my feet stand ground on the stone like an old oak tree’s roots will into the earth. My legs turn into what I can only describe as tall pieces of grass getting caught in a tornado. My heart is as heavy as the anchor that keeps the planet together and earth's existence. My subconscious making an appearance trying to convince the others to jump for the fun of it.

But yet, I am not alone. I will never be alone. You see what lays within the shell of my body harvests multiple people, all trying to find a way to escape the prison that they are kept in. All wanting to be there own individual. Some persevere more than others. Some just occasionally visit the world around them, like a small vacation from my mind. Just to occasionally stir the plot for this never-ending film of what I like to call my life.

One of them is what takes control of my feet when I stand on top of that bridge. He is the reason why my feet are rooted to the cold, hard stone that lays underneath them. Too scared to move an inch, yet fears that something will happen is he keeps them all still. The fear of something bad will happen, slowly suffocating him that he just wants everything to come to an end. Scared enough to let the fear overflow him.

Another is the stability of my legs, she is like a piece of driftwood you want to climb upon when you want to stop yourself from drowning. Only to find out the realization that she will never keep you afloat. She is so indecisive to keep fighting or to surrender and let the water sink her to the bottom of the seabed. She is so sick and tired of the monsters that have created what lays in the subconscious that she almost wants me to fall off the bridge and to stop the reality that hell really exists.

I then have the one who controls my heart. Me. The one who is writing this. It is not afraid of the demons that have taken over the subconscious and who are slowly trying to corrupt my mind. Although I sometimes take over my mind I know that currently, they are winning. I will always try and fight for the freedom I desire. However, the more I try the weaker I become due to the demons that take over my mind, so far they have more control than I ever dreamed off. I am the reason why I haven’t taken that leap from the bridge.

I also have my mind that gets poisoned by the demons. The control center that is stuck on personality shuffle for many years. The stupid one who needs to get ahold of herself. It likes to think that it has the most control, the most power but it can’t be any more false. She is one wild ride that never fails to surprise me. It lets the demons convince her that one more drink will not hurt. Death is an escape from the reality of my life. That no one will ever care and that I cannot trust anyone. She lets them overpower us all and swallows everything surrounding her whole. She lets the icy breath of the demons take control and lets them force themselves in so they can drag their sharpened claws and pierce my skin all the way down my spine until my mind does everything they want. Anything to keep the monsters that they have created at bay away from the world.

People usually get angry, upset or paranoid about all the people inside of me. Each time anything traumatic happens it’s like a little troll climbs up the bridge and stagger into the shell of me adding yet another person into the mix. Yet others around me will try and guilt trip me into trying to change myself for them. They can’t cope with who I will awake as from my slumber, forever changing. Yet they do not know how it is like being the one trapped within the world no one else will ever glimpse at. The many nights I lay there in the dead of night too scared and trying not to drift off into the coldness of the night. Never knowing what person I will be when I wake up. A never-ending cycle I cannot break.

During my time on this slowly falling bridge I really that the days have become months, the months have become years and the years have become a lifetime. Over my many years, I still stand on this bridge I have noticed that shadows appear always trying to attach themselves just to a single person that lays within my captive shell. They will never find a person to attach too. This is due to the shadows tormenting the shell. They penetrate my body just once and just enough to add more demons into the subconscious to add more torture to each and every one of them. All with the same stories just different versions of events. What the shadows do not know is that they can enter my body as many times as they want. They can play games with my mind as much as they want, they can try and scare each and everyone inside of me. No matter how much they try, they will never take control of my heart and never gain full control of my mind.

My subconscious always finds these demons and always take them in and make them one of their own. Therefore, they create these shadows into more demons so that there is more of them to blow their ice-cold breaths down my ear to try and convince one of the people inside of me to take the final jump so I can plummet down into the flowing rivers. To try and take full control of each and every version of myself. One day they may win and I may take the jump to stop all the pain and suffering they cause me every breath I take. But today isn’t that day. I am not a victim. I am not a survivor. I am a fighter. As long as there is a heart beating in my chest they will never win. As there are people around me brave enough to replace crumbling rubble from the bridge and turn them into stone, they will not win. Love will always win.

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Hope

By CJ Dalton

Today I woke up,

Who I am still unknown.

All these feelings inside about to erupt.

From the moment my eyes flicker,

A glimpse of hope appears.

My heart starts to race quicker.

The hope that I am still me,

That part of me hasn't died.

Hoping God will let me be.

A contract I was forced to sign,

Before I was even given life.

A life I call mine.

Hope is such a powerful belief,

That things will always get better,

Even if your life is full of sorrow.

As I shut my eyes a small light appears,

Given a chance to be free.

But all it takes is for the world to disappear.

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Ghost

By CJ Dalton

I like to think of my life sometimes as an empty, abandoned ballroom. Once a room that was full of life and laughter, light, joy, and happiness. Now replaced with darkness, dust and a ghost that time has forgotten. She wanders around the room, sometimes she will press down on the grand piano keys where once her grandfather would play until his fingers would wear away. The sweet melodies that would embrace everyone with a sense of belonging that would fill the whole room up. He now is a figure of her imagination, a small flicker of hope that life will go on after death. Memories, fading away from the sunlight of the day. Once present, a moment that stopped time. Gone and slipped away from her like she was trying to hold onto water. Abandoned all sense of hope that she matters to this cruel vicious world.

Like any abandoned place, the ballroom sometimes gets visitors trying to take selfies so they can hashtag that they were there.  A simple visit so they can check in on social media to prove that they are brave enough to even step foot in the room. Sometimes people come to view the room to see if they can renovate it for repairs, to just find that the mess is far too much for what they have bargained for. A mess that optimists will believe is an organized chaos, a beautiful mess that nothing a little TLC won’t fix. But the ghost will not allow this, just lets the dust gather and cover the surface of the room as feet did once upon a time.

The more darkness that the ghost lets the room consume the more the light inside of her dimmers. The hope one day that someone will be brave enough to swap their flash for a torch. To see the room for as it is, not as it once was. The hope that one day someone will wipe away the dust and open up the curtains to let the light shine through. The glimmering hope that the sun brings each day to shine upon the great room that once was the life and soul of any event. No matter what weather was lurking around that day.

The ghost isn’t all that she seems. She is still that girl. She is just overcome with grief that the world has changed and life has moved on in a way she could never have imagined. She is so much more than they believe. I am so much more than I believe. The ghost still lingers so that the world can be taught a lesson that makes her be in pain the most. All she wanted to do was to end the world of pain and sorrow that she forgot how to be happy herself. Wanting to save the lives of others so eagerly that she forgot to save her own. The day that girl I once was died when someone took away my soul and made me watch the girl I once was die and replaced with a ghost that will haunt the earth in the sorrow that they caused from someone else's own selfish act.